Page 100 of The Stolen Kingdom

“She is in pain,” he fussed. “She is in pain; do something.”

“I am!” Maris snarled as she applied more pressure, fearing the pain would be too much for Melvian to handle. She couldn’t faint when she needed to push to deliver the second child. “Melvian, I need you to push.”

Melvian nodded weakly, her hands finding Isen and holding on for dear life. Maris gave another short countdown, and just as Melvian pushed, a rumbling racket on the outside of the inn caught their attention.

Isen and Maris snapped their eyes at the only window in the room. As much as Maris wanted to know what was going on outside, her focus needed to be on Melvian and the baby’s delivery. As another contraction hit and Melvian spit out the towel Isen had given her, the sound of screams and chaos filtered into the room.

“Something is happening out there!” Isen yelled.

“You are not leaving. You are staying right here,” she ordered. Maris couldn’t do this alone. “Come on, Melvian! Push!”

“I fucking am!” Melvian shrieked, and as she doubled up on her efforts and pushed past the pain, the bedlam noises outside grew.

Minutes passed like an eternity. As the screams outside deafened the ones inside the chamber, a peculiar gasp of wonderment silenced everything around them. A sob, a sigh, and finally, what all three wanted to hear, the second baby’s cries.

Melvian slumped on the bed while Isen stood to get a better view.

Maris wrapped the infant with a towel, cleaning its tiny legs, arms, and head and cutting the umbilical cord as fast as she could while the room was packed with outside noises. A quick inspection made Maris gasp in surprise.

A boy, a dark-haired boy!

“Is everything all right? Please tell me everything’s all right,” Isen begged, falling to the ground on his knees, his hand still clutching Melvian’s.

Maris nodded frantically before lowering to the ground as well and handing the wailing baby to his father. “It’s a boy,” she whispered and couldn’t help but drink up Isen’s expression of shock, bewilderment, and pure unadulterated love.

“A boy?! Just like—”

“Just like you and Eyphah,” Maris said, patting Isen’s beard-covered face and then standing up.

She headed to Melvian’s side, kneeled beside her, and touched her cheek sweetly. The color was coming back to her. That was good. “Melvian?” She called her friend.

Melvian’s eyes fluttered open, giving Maris a weakened grin before signaling with her thumb. She was okay, tired, but okay.Glory be to Asclepius. Maris swallowed hard and pressed her trembling lips to Melvian’s sweaty forehead.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and ready,” Maris said as she moved back between Melvian’s legs and the basin and getting rid of the aftermath of delivery.

As the racket outside grew, the softness and love pouring inside the bedroom were enough to deafen everything. Isen didn’t wait a second to place their two newborns on Melvian’s lap as Maris helped the babies latch onto each of Melvian’s breasts.

Taking a step back, Maris took in the spectacle before her as Isen lay down next to his mate, petting the baby girl’s blue locks and looking over his son’s black tufts. Itwasn’t until Maris heard a loud knock that she was pulled away from the scene. The door slammed open, and an injured Cain moved in, blood covering his left eye.

Maris panicked, and so did Isen, who stood from the bed and got between the young Sealian guard and his mate.

“We need you out there!” Cain yelled.

Maris froze, and Isen moved to touch her shoulder, grounding her.

“They are here.”

22

Maris’s heart was about to beat out of her chest. She gave Isen instructions before she rushed down the stairs. The idea of moving Melvian after giving birth was extreme, but they couldn’t stay there if it put them in danger. Also, Maris would never forgive herself if something ever happened to either the babies or Melvian and Isen. Maris tried to keep her fear and anxiety at bay. If Valda sensed what she was feeling, she would undoubtedly turn back, and Valda needed to reach Cressida and get the rest of the Sealians to leave. Maris had to hold her ground in Titania, move the Sealians to Umbriel, and wait for Valda there.

With her hand over her chest, Maris took deep breaths. Now was not the time, she couldn’t mess up the mission. Closing her eyes, she dissipated her fears until all that remained were slivers of anxiety fluttering through the connection. She hoped that would be enough to keep her mate focused. With the trident in the holster and a large waterskin tied to her waist, she walked out the inn and into the chaos unfolding. Her breath caught in her throat as she witnessed the sky above Cressida ablaze with crimson streaks as arrows rained down upon the city. The streets were engulfed in fire… This wasn’t the work of Skylian soldiers, this was all Vulcanian doing.

Maris stood in the middle of a road, the houses around smoldered with dark smoke rising to the sky. The heat was already unbearable, and her eyes watered as the smoke penetrated her lungs. It was making it hard to breathe! The crackling flames drowned outthe desperate cries of the wounded civilians. The Skylians giving refuge to the Sealians didn’t deserve this, neither did her people!

As she ran to the center of the city, houses crumbled, sending showers of fiery debris in all directions. Maris’s heart sank. Panic-stricken Sealians and Skylians darted through the narrow alleys, seeking shelter as the fire arrows came down upon them. Maris frantically searched through the turmoil, needing to get as many out of there as she could. The very flames consuming the city moved about until a form materialized before Maris. She had seen her before, had been captured by her clothing the first time she saw her at Valda’s birthday back in the castle.

Teeth bared and barking orders, Kenna Hagan, the queen of the Vulcanians, stood tall. Draped in her barbaric attire, Kenna turned just in time to lock her eyes with Maris. The power emanating from the other woman could easily be matched to Valda’s. And Maris couldn’t help but swallow her nervousness down. The dark, charcoal markings painted across her face accentuated the anger coiling in her features. The symbols of her gods, Vulcan and Ares, were emblazoned upon her chest plate. With one hand, she gripped a massive, sharp double-blade ax and for a second, Maris couldn’t believe she could wield such a weapon with only one arm. The blade shined, mirroring the fire around them. Her grip on the weapon tightened, and Maris could see it in the way her forearm muscles moved under her white skin.

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