Then Cyrus nodded.
No hesitation.
No questions.
No disgust.
No doubt.
He nodded as if Isabella had asked for warm water or another fur. As if giving her his blood was the easiest thing in the world. His pink eyes stayed on her face, and the trust there was so complete that Isabella almost wanted to cry for another reason.
"Alright," he said.
The younger woman looked shocked. "Male, this is dangerous. She is already weak. Blood may make her sick."
Cyrus did not look at her. "It will help."
The older woman watched him, then watched Isabella. She could see that both of them knew sothing she did not. Since the glowing bottle had appeared earlier and had clearly changed Isabella’s condition, she had already understood that Lady Isabella was not like other females. There were things around her that could not be explained by ordinary birth knowledge.
So the older woman held the younger one back with one hand. "Let them."
Cyrus shifted carefully so Isabella was still supported against him. He lifted his arm and looked at the bite marks she had already left there. The skin had started to close slightly because his body healed faster than ordinary beastn, but the marks were still fresh.
He did not reach for a blade.
He did not ask the won for one.
Instead, he pressed his thumb against the wounded place and opened the bite again with his nail.
Blood welled up.
Warm and dark.
Isabella’s face twisted imdiately.
"Oh my God," she whispered, almost crying. "This is disgusting."
Cyrus looked at her with such tenderness that it almost made the whole thing worse. "You do not have to take much."
"Easy for you to say. It is your blood."
"It is yours if you need it."
That sentence hit her right in the heart.
Seriously.
Did he have to be so sweet while bleeding?
Her eyes burned.
Then another wave started, and she stopped thinking. Cyrus brought his arm closer to her mouth, but he did it gently, still watching her face as if even now he was waiting for her permission.
Isabella turned her head away at first.
She truly could not.
Bubu’s voice ca in at once.
{Isabella.}
Isabella almost snarled in her mind. "I know!"
Then she turned back, shut her eyes tightly, and pressed her mouth to the wound.
The first taste made her whole body stiffen.
It was warm.
tallic.
Wrong.
Her stomach wanted to reject the idea, but the mont the blood touched her tongue properly, the mating mark on her chest burned so suddenly that she gasped against his arm.
Cyrus felt it too.
His breath caught.
The heat moved through both of them at once, not like pain this ti, but like a line being drawn between his body and hers. The demonic blood inside her stopped twisting wildly and turned toward that line. The babies moved.
All at once.
Isabella’s eyes flew open.
The older woman’s face changed imdiately. "They moved."
Cyrus’s arm tightened around Isabella. "I felt it."
The younger woman quickly moved into position, her earlier confusion swallowed by urgency. "Lady Isabella, when the next pain cos, listen to us. This ti, push with it."
Isabella released Cyrus’s arm with a gasp, and a little of his blood remained on her lips. She looked half horrified, half furious, and completely exhausted.
Bubu chid in her mind.
{Effective. Continue if needed.}
Isabella nearly lost her mind.
"If needed?" she snapped in her mind. "You an I might have to do that again?"
{Most likely.}
"I hate you."
{User is welco.}
She did not have ti to argue.
The next pain ca fast.
Very fast.
It rose from deep inside her like her whole body had finally received a signal and decided to move forward. Isabella scread, and Cyrus held her from behind, his bitten arm still near her shoulder while his other hand supported her stomach as much as he could without pressing.
"Push now," the older woman said firmly. "Do not fight it. Push down with the pain."
"I am trying!" Isabella cried.
"You are doing it. Again. Breathe first. Now push."
Isabella pushed.
Her whole body shook with it. Her face turned red, tears ran down her temples, and her hand clutched Cyrus so tightly that her nails almost broke skin again. Cyrus stayed behind her, murmuring to her constantly, telling her she was doing well, telling her he was there, telling her to lean on him.
The room felt too hot.
The fire burned.
The won moved quickly.
Glimora stood up beside the fur bed, trembling but silent, her eyes locked on Isabella as if she could protect her by watching hard enough.
Another push.
Another scream.
Then the older woman’s eyes widened.
"I see him," she said.
Isabella froze for half a breath. "Him?"
"A baby," the younger woman said, and her voice shook with excitent. "Lady Isabella, a baby is coming."
For a mont, the pain and fear and exhaustion all mixed into sothing Isabella could barely understand.
A baby.
Her baby.
Cyrus’s baby.
The little life that had been moving inside her for so long was finally coming out.
She sobbed once, but the older woman did not let her drift away into the feeling.
"Again," she said. "Push again."
Isabella pushed with everything she had left.
For one terrifying second, the pain beca so strong that she thought she truly might split apart. Then sothing changed. There was pressure, movent, a burning stretch, and then a sudden release that left her body trembling.
A wet, small sound filled the room.
The older woman caught the baby with steady hands.
For one breath, nobody spoke.
Then the baby moved.
A tiny cry ca out.
Weak at first.
Then louder.
A newborn’s cry.
Isabella stared through tears, barely able to understand what she was seeing.
The younger woman laughed and cried at the sa ti. "A boy. Lady Isabella, it is a boy."
Cyrus went completely still behind her.
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