doing their shit, so we made ourselves stay back.
"We can do a paternity test before we decide to have another child," Saint said. "That way we can make sure each of us has a child with our genetics and-"
"You seriously think you're going to convince her to have more babies after this?" Nash hissed and Tatum turned to look at all of us, her eyes narrowing like she knew what we were saying. Shit, she was scary right now.
Saint swallowed thickly and shrugged. "Maybe not," he conceded.
"I'm more concerned about her surviving this one," I growled, wondering why the hell we'd even decided to have a baby. I mean yeah, I was pretty fucking excited about having a little dude or princess to run around with and get into trouble, but if I'd known what would happen to our girl to get it here, I wasn't so sure I’d have gone along with it. "Shit, this baby had better be really fucking cool or I don't think I'll ever forgive the little bastard."
"We are all married to her,” Saint replied. “So it won't be a bast-"
"There we go, it'll kick in shortly," the anaesthetist announced and we stampeded out of our corner to get to Tatum's side first.
She dropped back down onto the bed, some of the pain already seeming to slip from her expression as she looked between the four of us with the hint of a smile on her face.
"I'm never having sex again," she whispered and a laugh spilled from my lips as I leaned down to kiss her forehead.
"You've got this, baby," I growled, knowing in my heart that it was the truest thing I'd ever said to her. "You're a fucking queen. You can do this. And we'll be right here beside you the whole time."
***
The room was strangely silent following the panic of the delivery. This odd kind of calm dropping over all of us beneath the weight of this utterly life changing event.
Something had shifted in me the moment the baby had been born, this sense of purpose that I hadn't had before. I didn't know how to properly put it into words, but I just felt overwhelmed with it all.
Tatum lay in her bed, nursing the healthy baby boy and watching him with this serene look on her face that I just couldn't help but sketch. Nash and Blake had already taken about a million photos of the two of them in the twenty minutes since he'd come into the world screaming like a banshee and ready to take on everything and anything that came his way. But I just needed to capture this feeling. And as the sketches came together, I couldn't help but be proud of my work.
My favourite was the piece I was just finishing, Tatum sitting in bed between the four of us as we looked down at her, the baby cradled in her arms and that freaking smile on her face which I just wanted to devour. It was almost certainly worth all of the agony it had taken to bring him into the world. She certainly seemed to think so anyway and as she was the one who had endured it, I was willing to take her word on it.
"Do you want to hold him, Kyan?" Tatum breathed and I looked up as I finished my sketch, wetting my lips and placing my sketchbook aside.
I was the only one who hadn't yet, but for some reason, I was hesitating. It wasn't that I didn't want to, more that I wasn't sure I was cut out for taking hold of something so precious and fragile without tainting it. I'd already had to accept that I'd corrupted Tatum, but a baby was just so pure and innocent, and I was everything but those things.
I hadn't even been the least bit pissed when it had been clear from his skin tone that I wasn't the bio dad. Because deep down in my gut I couldn't help but feel that my blood was a form of poison and giving it to a child would be akin to cursing them.
In hindsight, I should have known full well this kid would have Saint's genetics. The bastard had planned a romantic weekend away for him and Tatum precisely when he'd figured out that she'd be ovulating, then spent the entirety of it buried inside of her to make sure he’d be the one who impregnated her first. I hadn't even thought about that