The older woman looked at Isabella's stomach again and spoke with a voice that was calm only because she had forced it to be calm.
"The next pain is coming."
Isabella closed her eyes.
Outside, the battle roared.
Inside, the two newborn boys cried in their warm wraps.
Glimora stood beside the bed with her fur glowing faintly and her worried eyes fixed on Isabella.
Cyrus held Isabella from behind, his blood on her lips, his arms around her body, and his heart beating so hard it felt like it might break.
Isabella took a shaking breath and prayed with what little strength she had left.
This better be a girl this time around.
Because the boys had been hell.
The moment the pain came, Isabella realized that this one truly felt different.
