*Runze's POV*
The engine roars to life before the SUV door even slams fully shut.
The world outside the dark-tinted window is a blurred rush of autumn trees and flashing traffic lights, but inside the back seat, space has shrunk down to white noise, heavy breathing, and blinding, relentless pain.
I am curled on my side, my head wedged into the crook of Bael's neck, my hands clawing blindly at his chest through the fabric of his shirt. Every bump in the road sends a jagged spike straight through my lower spine. Another contraction clamps down over my stomach—harder, tighter, squeezing the air out of my lungs until I can only make a low, animalistic whimpering sound against his collarbone.
"Drive faster," Bael growls toward the front seat, his voice vibrating hard against my temple. His arms are wrapped around me like steel bands, holding my body steady against the violent sway of the car.
"I'm going as fast as I can, Master Bael!" the driver's voice shakes from the front.
