Page 66 of A Bolt of Magic

Then Kyrie places the tiny boy on Maya’s chest, and the sight of mother and child together makes tears blur my vision.

“You did it,” Kian says from behind me, his hands on my shoulders.

Maya’s hands shake as she touches her son’s dark hair, her face transformed with wonder and exhaustion and pure, overwhelming love.

“Orion, my love,” she whispers, her voice hoarse. “Look at him. Look at our son.”

Orion’s face is wet with tears as he leans down to study the tiny face. “He’s so small.” His voice is thick.

There is another loud wail from the tiny baby.

“And healthy, too.” He chokes out a laugh. He looks at Maya in a way that makes my chest tight. “I love you so much.”

At this point, I am sitting on the floor next to the bed. Kian tries to help me up, but I brush him off. I’m sure I will get my strength back soon.

“You did it, sweetheart. You brought him here,” Orion says.

“Not just me.” Maya barely has a voice left. “You did this, too, McColl. Thank you…thank you so much. You saved our son. You saved me, too.”

“Thank you,” Orion chokes out. He is smiling from ear to ear.

I nod, too depleted to say anything.

“What will you call him?” Kyrie asks softly.

Maya and Orion exchange a look. “His name is Maxwell, after Orion’s grandfather.”

Orion repeats the name tenderly, his hand gentle on his son’s tiny back. “It suits him perfectly.”

The barn door suddenly bursts open, and Xander rushes in with an elderly woman, who I assume must be the healer. Theyall stop short at the sight of the peaceful scene of Maya cradling her newborn, the soft sounds of contentment filling the air.

“The baby is already here?” Xander asks, relief evident in his voice.

“Yes, he is. Meet my son. This is Maxwell,” Orion says proudly, never taking his eyes off his wife and child.

The healer, a wizened woman with kind eyes, approaches the bed. “Let me just check them both over,” she says gently. “You men should leave now.” She starts to shoo them.

But I barely register any of it. The magical and physical toll of what I’ve just done is catching up with me all at once. The barn spins around me, and I feel myself swaying. Thankfully, I am sitting on the floor. I take in big breaths, trying to stop the room from spinning.

“McColl!” Kian’s voice sounds far away. “What’s wrong?”

I try to answer him, but everything goes black.

20

Kian

I sit next to McColl’s bed, watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest, and try not to think about how small and fragile she looks beneath the covers.

Worry eats at me.

Her lips are dry and cracked despite my efforts to keep them moist. I dip a clean cloth in the bowl of water beside me and carefully squeeze a few drops between her parted lips, tilting her head slightly to help her swallow. She does, the reflex still there even in unconsciousness, but it’s weak.

Too weak.

“Come on, McColl,” I murmur, setting the cloth aside. “You need to fight…please.”

She’s so pale that her skin is almost translucent, dark circles shadowing her closed eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was—

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