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“I know.”

“You're crying.”

“No I’m not.” She laughed but didn’t contradict me.

Dragan smiled, I glared at his amusement, he stopped. We sat there listening for the two lives, the two fucking miracles that would soon be in our lives. The war disappeared, Ceasar disappeared, Xion disappeared. Everything disappeared except Bryn and those heartbeats.

Later, back in our room, Bryn sat between my legs on the bed while I rubbed her back. Her stomach had been bothering her all day. She said it was not pain but pressure. Apparently carrying twins meant there was no comfortable position left on earth.

I would have traded places with her if I could but she told me that was biologically impossible and I should stop saying stupid things, but I kept saying them. “What about names?” she asked.

I stilled. We'd avoided that, not intentionally but maybe out of fear. Naming them made them more real. They were already real enough to terrify me. “You have any ideas?”

She leaned back against my chest. “One.”

“For which?”

“For our girl.” I waited. “I like the name Oriah.”

The name settled into me, it was soft but strong, beautiful.

“Oriah,” I repeated.

Bryn looked up. “Do you like it?”

I placed my hand over where our daughter had been kicking all afternoon. “Oriah.” She moved beneath my palm, my chest tightened.

“Yes.”

Bryn smiled. “Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Her smile widened. “Our daughter is Oriah.”

“Our daughter.” Fuck, I am so screwed. I kissed her temple seeing the love in her eyes as she looked up at me.

“And the boy?”

She shrugged. “That one is yours.”

“Why?”

“Because I named one.”

“That isn't how this works.”

“It is now.”

I thought. Names mattered, especially in our world because they carried history, expectation and sometimes blood. I didn't want that for him, I wanted something that belonged to us. Not Dragic history but ours.

“Svern.”

Bryn went still, she looked at me for a long moment. “Svern?” I nodded.