I pushed with all I had left, which really wasn’t a lot, then gave up, my head falling back on the healer’s shoulder because I couldn’t hold it up anymore, my eyes losing contact with Lahn’s for the first time since this shit started (except, of course, when I closed them to push).
“Circe, my dear, please, please, push,” Diandra encouraged.
She was wandering the side of the bathing pool with Ghost prowling at her side, watching, wringing her hands and as the minutes passed, visibly moving from excitement, to minor freak out, to major freak out and now she was not hiding out and out panic.
“I can’t,” I whispered, the pain ripping through me, I couldn’t push and fight the pain at the same time. It just wasn’t happening.
“I must cut, my Dax,” the healer said quietly.
“Me,” Lahn growled fiercely.
“He is not coming,” the healer continued quietly, stating the obvious.
“Me!” Lahn barked and her arms tightened around me.
“My queen, please, you must push,” she whispered in my ear.
I nodded weakly, lifted my head and tried again. I had little left, I gave it all I could, squeezing my eyes tight and digging my heels in Lahn’s shoulders but nothing doing.
I collapsed back into the arms supporting me.
“My Dax,” the healer hissed urgently, “I must cut.”
“You cut, I lose my queen,” Lahn growled and I closed my already closed eyes tighter.
“Maybe I can sew her together, like she did the warrior,” the healer suggested.
Oh man. Primitive experimental surgery.
Fucking great.
“You will not cut,” Lahn growled again and I felt his fingers wrap tight around my ankles. “My doe,” he called, his voice soft, “give me your eyes.”
I fought the pain, pulled in breath and with effort lifted my head.
Then I stared at what I saw. It was a hazy stare but I saw it.
Yes, I definitely saw it. Clear and unhidden.
Lahn was scared.
“My tigress does not admit defeat,” he told me, his fingers tightening around my ankles. “My golden warrior never admits defeat.” My eyes closed slowly and his fingers gave me a squeeze so I opened them. “Push, baby,” he whispered.
He held my eyes and just like that day in our cham, something came over me, something I didn’t know I had, it surged through me, taking over and I gritted my teeth, nodded my head, closed my eyes, dug my heels in my husband’s shoulders and I pushed.
Hard.
Then again.
And again.
And a-fucking-gain.
“He crowns,” an assistant whispered.
“Praise the True Mother,” the healer breathed.
Then I pushed again.