Page 85 of Wicked Thirst
“Let’s bring our boy home.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
MOIRA
“See that the bars are reinforced . . . twice.” I stood in the dungeon for the second time in my whole life. It had not improved in two hundred years. It was damp, dark, and ominous. I held the hem of my dress up off the floor just in case the blood and muck here decided to seep into the material. The workers moved diligently about the cell as I directed them. “Remove anything not bolted into the floors or walls.”When they all looked at me nervously, I lifted my chin. “If you don’t want to be here when it arrives, I suggest you make haste.”
They all scurried around the cell as I looked on. I checked every corner, anything that could possibly be used as a weapon. Once they were finished, I let them hurry away. It would come out eventually about Grayson, but I wanted to protect him for just a moment longer before the vampire world found out. I stood there for a moment wondering if I should have some kind of blinds hung outside his cell to block him from view.
I felt him behind me first, then I heard the deep rumble of his voice. “Moira, what are you doing here?”
“They’re bringing Grayson home.” I motioned to the cell. “I’m preparing for his arrival.”
“We could have others attend to this. I’m not sure . . . I’m not sure you want to see this.” Titus placed his arms on my shoulders, and I found myself leaning back into him. I knew I shouldn’t, I knew it was wrong, I knew it crossed a line that should never be crossed, but I needed his support now more than ever, especially when Grayson was coming home. I hadn’t ever been this nervous for him aside from the day he was born.
“I brought him into this world, and while I have a breath to draw, I will remain with him in it.” The cell looked bleak but I’d rather him be here than anywhere else.
“Then I will be here with you every step of the way.”“The kingdom needs you right now and until something can be done about Grayson’s curse, I fear you being here might consume your time and draw unnecessary attention.” I reached up about to place my hand over his, but it’d be too much. Being this close was too much. I dropped my hands and folded them in front of me as a reminder to never touch him.
His grasp slipped from my shoulders, and he took a step back. “I will always be here for him . . . always.”
“As you always have been.” I tried to reassure him, but the truth was I needed him away from this dungeon.
“If you need me, you’ll call for me?” His voice was soft and rumbling as he spoke.
“Of course.” But I wouldn’t call for him. In this moment Titus felt like someone else I needed to protect.
He slipped away, leaving me there. He would always be here for Grayson. And for me it was forever at a perfect distance . . .
200 Years Ago
“No, not again! NOOOOOOOOO.” The pain hit me in waves. It started off slow, just a small ache, then it built, my muscles contracting until the pressure was so intense I thought my bones would break.
“Can you not do something?” Titus snapped to the midwife.
“Your Highness, we are doing all that we can.” She hovered over my body with a wet rag in hand. She dabbed it over my head, trying to stop the sweat from rolling into my eyes.
“Thank you, Sarah.” I let my head fall back into the pillows. The room felt oppressively hot and I wanted the plush blankets gone from my bed.
“Yes, thank you, Sarah, for doing nothing.” Titus paced back and forth beside me.
“Brother, perhaps you should step out of the room for a moment,” Graymont offered as he sat in the chair up by my head. “Find your calm.”
“You find your bloody calm,” he snapped back.
I’d never seen Titus like this before. His hair was wild and untamed, his jacket lay on a chair across the room, and he stood by me with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows like he himself would be catching the child. Just as I was about to tell him to sit down, another contraction hit. The child was going to render me in two. I threw my head back and a scream ripped from my throat. My back arched of its own accord, and I twisted to the side, fighting to keep myself on the bed. The pain only rose—it never peaked, it never dropped off, it never ended.
My breath left me and all I could feel was the pressure racking my whole body.
Graymont jumped to his feet. “She is not supposed to look like that.”
Titus leaned over the bed and wrapped his hands around my upper arms. “Breathe, MOIRA!”
He shook me and I sucked in a gasping breath so hard it hurt my throat. Tears rolled from my eyes and down my cheeks as the contraction subsided. “It was,” I fought to breathe, “too much.”
The two midwives huddled together, whispering on the other side of the room. Sarah and Anne were mirrors of each other, both with mousy brown hair, brown eyes, and pasty skin. In my pain-induced mind, I could hardly tell one from the other. I tried to motion toward them, but my arms were too heavy for the effort.
“Her lips are blue,” Graymont snapped while motioning to me.
