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bond, there’s no reason to resist my healing magic.”
“I can help,” Hugh said, possibly to himself, because Finch was in no mood to listen to anyone.
“Here, Finch.” Hugh took Finch’s hand and a cooling wave of magic spread through him. It
wasn’t enough to do away with the pain he was in, but it helped. It was only when Everard
stepped in and laid a hand on Finch as well, adding his magic to Hugh’s, that Finch found any
relief.
Hugh stroked Finch’s sweaty brow and kissed his temple. “There. That’s better, isn’t it?”
“It’s… acceptable,” was as far as Finch was willing to go.
“All right, then,” Everard said, sounding far more cheerful and sure of himself. He placed
himself between Finch’s legs. “Let me have a bit of a rummage around in here.”
“I say,” Hugh began, sounding indignant.
“Hush, brother. I’m working here and this is very delicate. I need to concentrate. Can you be
still for me, fountain pen?”
“I… I can try. What exactly are you doing?” Finch couldn’t help the note of suspicion that crept
into his voice.
“Something important. Now, do not push. Not yet. Even with the pain numbed, you will still
want to bear down, but hold it back.”
“What are you doing, brother?” Hugh asked with trepidation. He gripped Finch’s hand with
equal fervor. “What aren’t you telling us?”
“Your baby is being stubborn. Instead of being head-down, like a proper birth, your child has
decided to turn his back on the proceedings. I need to turn the baby, and if this doesn’t work,
I’ll have to do a caesarean.”
Finch closed his eyes, held tightly to his mate, tried not to push, and prayed that the universe
would keep his baby safe.
The universe, cheeky as ever, responded by sending someone through the bedroom door.
Finch heard it open, then shut.
“What did I miss?” asked Harrison. “Not the birth, I hope.”
Everard looked briefly over his shoulder. “No, pudding cup, you haven’t. In fact, I’m in need of
your assistance. Come here.”
“What do you need me to do, Ev?” Harrison asked as he appeared at the bedside.
