Page 39 of The Orc's Innocent Plaything

It didn’t work, even with the help of a few of the council members who arrived. Mkaalad paced and worried, and I admitted I completely understood Myra’s concerns.

Midnight came and went, and finally I agreed to return to my cousin’s cottage. I was curious as well, and it became clear Mkaalad couldn’t wait any longer.

But to my surprise, the moment we stepped inside, his entire demeanor shifted. Mayhap ‘twas because ofAvaleen’sactions.

The sweet, kind woman who always had a smile for everyone, who loved the village animals, was hanging from Myra’s arms and screaming like a madwoman. My cousinstepped up, slid his arms around his Mate, and began to pace, whispering soft words until her contraction passed.

Worried, I caught Myra.

“Are ye hurt, lass?” I whispered. “Yer sister looks strong.”

“She is,” she agreed, blowing out a weary breath. “But so am I. Thank God you returned when you did. I need help.”

MyKteersat up and purred, and I nodded firmly.

“Aught, Myra. There’s naught I willnae do for ye.”

And that is how I spent the rest of the evening toting buckets of water, caring for the fire, telling more ribald tales than I expected—they made Avaleen laugh, which was good—and a few times even lending my arm for her to lean on as she paced.

When the labor grew worse, just before dawn, Myra settled her sister onto the birthing stool Mkaalad had made, and bid my cousin to crouch behind her, to keep her upright.

With her hands on her sister’s stomach, Myra nodded sternly. “This is it, Avie. You are about to meet your son.”

“Or daughter,” Mkaalad cut in.

“When your body tells you to push, bear down.”

“He is coming,” Avaleen groaned.“Now.”

“You can do it,” Myra whispered, sliding her hand beneath her sister’s chemise. “I love you.”

“I love ye too,” Mkaalad grunted.

Avaleen merelyscreamed in agony.

And an incrediblyfullfew moments later, she held her squalling purple bairn.

“A girl,” she whispered, gazing in awe down at the kitling who had her dark curls. “A daughter.”

“A lassie,” whooped my cousin, enfolding them both. And as the bairn continued to cry, her parents began to laugh in joy.

And me?

I did my best to pretend the whole experience had been beautiful, and not traumatizing as all the hells. ‘Twas both, I suppose, and I could understand why Mkaalad and Avaleen continued to laugh in relief as Myra bustled about.

In fact, long after Avaleen was settled in bed with a new chemise, and the bairn bathed and nestled at her breast, and Mkaalad holding them both, Myra continued to work. She did arcane things with the afterbirth, she washed linens, she cleaned the cottage. I did what I could to help, but the long night was dragging on me.

How did she have this much energy?

‘Twas only when I caught her hand and she swung to face me that I saw the truth in her eyes. Myra was only minutes from collapsing.

“Slow down, lass. Ye must be exhausted.”

“Avie will sleep soon,” she blurted. “Someone has to sit up with the bairn.”

“’Twill no’ be ye,” I said sternly. “Ye need yer rest too. Ye’ve done what ye do best, now allow Nan and the other women to help.”

She opened her mouth—to protest, I knew—and I allowed the growl myKteerdemanded to slip loose.

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