Little Lords (The Dragon Demigods Book 3)

by Charlene Hartnady

  Shannon makes a face. “I feel for you. I’m not sure how you’re coping at this point.”

  “Do I look that bad?” I smile.

  “Not bad, just tired. Here, let me…” She gets up, putting a hand to her back and wincing. “I physically hurt. I have to go to the toilet every five minutes! Well, it feels like every five minutes but more like every hour. I still have at least three weeks to go,” she makes another face, “possibly more. Make that, probably more.”

  “There is no way of knowing for sure, I’m afraid.”

  “I know.” Shannon hands my juice to me.

  “Thanks.” I take a sip and then rest the glass on my belly. “I can’t see my feet anymore. I can’t even put my shoes on myself. Some of them don’t fit on account of the swelling, in any event.”

  Shannon laughs. “I have so much to look forward to! Although…” she raises her brows, “I can’t see my feet anymore, either.”

  We laugh together again.

  My son kicks. I’m pretty sure it’s his knee, but he gets me right under the glass of juice, which wobbles precariously. I manage to prevent an incident by lifting it quickly. “Crap! That was close. I almost wrecked your new sofa.”

  “It’s not the end of the world,” she dismisses. “We had it Scotchgarded. Soon there’ll be sticky fingers all over everything.”

  “That’s true.” I take a sip of my juice. The baby squirms again inside me. This time he leans against my bladder. At least, that’s what it feels like. My eyes widen, and I put a hand to my lower belly.

  “What is it?” Shannon asks, looking a little panicked. “Should I call Night. He and Forge can be back here in ten minutes.”

  My husband is at yet another meeting with the guys. They’re still trying to figure out what happened with Lyre. They’re no closer to the truth. Lyre lost his first patient last week. Apparently, an elderly man who needed a bypass. It was a major procedure with an eighty-twenty chance against survival. He didn’t make it, and Lyre’s rattled. Forge and Night are even worse, although they’re trying to hide it from us. I’m trying not to let it get to me. Just because Lyre doesn’t have the power of healing, doesn’t mean he’s going to need that power for Shannon or me. We’re okay.

  “Oh…” I say, realizing that Shannon is waiting for me. She’s still looking concerned. In fact, her cellphone is in her hand, and she’s getting ready to dial. “I’m fine…the baby is leaning on my bladder or something.” I suck in a breath, and my eyes widen again.

  “And now?” Shannon practically yells.

  “More leaning,” I push out. “I don’t want to pee on your new sofa. I’m too afraid to move in case there’s an accident.”

  She starts laughing. I can’t help joining in. “No…stop!” I gasp. “I swear, I’m going to pee.”

  She giggles some more, and I work hard to stifle the laughter that’s building inside me. I lumber up, one hand on my belly. This kid is still on my bladder. He hasn’t budged. Then, to my shame, it happens.

  Wetness runs down my legs. “Nooo!” I groan.

  Even worse, I lose my balance – which is easy when your center of gravity is no longer where it used to be. I fall back onto the sofa. Shannon’s very beautiful, very new sofa. “I’m so sorry!” I quickly – although the term ‘quickly’ is relative – clamber back to my feet. My sneakers are wet. My socks are wet. “I’ll pay for a professional clean. I can’t believe I did that.”

  Shannon’s eyes are fixed on my wet pants, making me feel even worse. I feel like a child again.

  “I didn’t think I had that much in me.” I put a hand over my mouth. “I can’t believe I peed myself,” I mumble when Shannon doesn’t say anything.

  Her mouth has fallen open for a moment. “I don’t think you did.” She gets up, her cellphone still in her hand.

  “Of course, I did,” I snort out a laugh. “Look at—” I suddenly realize what she’s saying. “You don’t think…?”

  I see her throat work. She nods once.

  “Nah, it can’t—” I start saying. Then the first pain hits. It almost takes my breath away. My belly tightens. It’s undeniable. Inescapable. “Holy crap!” I grip my stomach with both hands. “Oh…oh…crap,” I groan, trying to stay upright. I grit my teeth.

  “Are you having a contraction?” Shannon yells. “You are having a contraction. Oh, my good golly.”

  I’m breathing through the pain like I learned at Lamaze class. I keep breathing. It isn’t helping. They lied! Rhythmic breathing doesn’t help at all.

  Shannon calls Night. “Ava’s in labor!” she yells. There’s a break while she listens.

  I keep breathing. It’s still not freaking helping. My back hurts. My stomach— Oh, god!

  “Yes, right now….yes!” Shannon yells. “Of course I’m sure! Her water just broke, and she’s having what looks like one hell of a contraction. You keep breathing,” she says to me. Then she’s walking, the phone still attached to her ear. “Two seconds,” she mouths to me.

  I nod. The pain has started to subside. The pressure down below is still immense. At least the need to pee has subsided. Maybe I did pee when my water broke. Maybe I peed during that contraction. Then it hits me.

  Oh, my god!

  Oh!

  I’m in labor.

  I’m in honest-to-god labor.

  My legs are shaking. I take shuffling steps to the dining-room table and put both hands on the smooth surface.

  Shannon walks back into the room. She has her car keys in her hand. The phone is still pressed to her ear. “Okay…yes.” She looks like she is panicking. “We’ll meet you there. Love you too…” Her eyes lift. “Of course, I will. Bye.” She ends the call. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine,” I reply, pretty much lying through my teeth.

  Shannon looks like she is about to hyperventilate. “Take nice deep breaths, Shannon,” I say to her, trying to calm her down – it’s almost funny how I’m the one telling her to breathe. “It’s okay. I’m going to be in labor for a while. This is—” Another contraction hits. It hits me hard. I lean over the table. I know I have to breathe through it, but the air is stuck in my lungs for a moment. I finally groan and start breathing. It seems to go on and on forever.

  I can hear Shannon talking to me. She is still panicking. I’m with her this time. The contraction finally subsides. “Scratch everything I just said. You’d better…get me to the hospital…right now.”

  14

  Forge

  Ava is in labor.

  The baby is coming!

  Fuck!

  I’m pacing as Night talks with Shannon. I want to jump in my car and floor it. I need to be at my wife’s side. The need is so acute I can’t stop moving. I’m buzzing from the adrenaline that’s coursing through my body. My mind is racing. I clench and unclench my hands. I want to roar. I want to pound my chest. I feel my scales rub. My beast wants to take over. It wants me to shift. To get to her. Now!

  I can’t do that.

  “Drive safely,” Night says into his cellphone.

  Shannon responds, “Of course, I will.” Then she ends the call.

  Night puts his phone into his pocket. He smiles. “It’s time! Let’s head to the hospital,” he says, sounding relatively calm. “Give me your keys.”

  “I can drive,” I growl.

  “I’m sure you can, but I don’t think you should. We need to get there in one piece.”

  “I agree with Night,” Lyre chimes in. “I’ll follow the two of you. This is a first-time pregnancy, we have plenty of time.”

  “Didn’t you hear?” I shout. “Ava’s water broke!”

  “I heard.” Lyre smiles; he is speaking in a soothing tone, trying to calm me down. “First-time labor generally lasts between twelve and twenty-four hours, with an average of about seventeen hours. I assure you, we have plenty of time. The ladies are leaving as we speak. The hospital is just around the corner from Night’s place. We won’t be too far behind them.” Right n
ow, I have an irrational irritation towards Lyre for living outside of town. I don’t say anything.

  “You should listen to Dr. Lyre,” Trident says, grinning. “You’re going to be a dad. It wouldn’t do to have you involved in an accident.”

  My heart races. Sweat breaks out on my brow.

  “Shannon is driving your wife to the hospital as we speak,” Night reassures me. “Give me your keys, let’s hit the road.”

  I nod once. I’m probably too tense to drive. I would floor it. I doubt I would get into an accident, but I don’t want to risk it. I am lacking focus right now. I give Night the keys.

  “Good luck, bro,” Jarrod says.

  “All the best,” Stephanus adds. “Let us know how it goes.”

  I nod. “I will.”

  “I’ll see you there,” Tri says, still grinning like a madman.

  I frown at him. “You’re coming?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” My best friend pats me on the back. “I have cigars in my car. We are ready for this. I can’t wait to meet my godchild.” He sounds pumped.

  I realize that I’ve calmed down some. Tri’s relaxed demeanor is doing the trick. “I’ll see you there.” I suck in a deep breath.

  “Good luck!” Rage grunts.

  “Keep us informed.” Bolt folds his arms.

  “Let’s go,” I say, and we head out. Lyre and Trident follow on our heels.

  It feels weird jumping into the passenger seat of my ride. Night starts her up, and we pull away. Neither of us says anything. Night is sticking to the speed limit…but only just. He passes where possible. In short, he’s doing a better job than I would have done, although I’m sure we’d probably be at the hospital by now if I was behind the wheel. I shift in my seat. I’m trying not to think too much about what might be happening. Shannon will call if anything changes. No news is good news.

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” Night says, as if reading my mind. “I told Shannon to call when they arrive.”

  I grunt. I’m not feeling much like talking right now. I just want us to get there already.

  A few long minutes later and Night’s phone rings. I jump as another surge of adrenaline hits my bloodstream.

  Night hands the device to me. “It’s Shannon,” he tells me, without answering.

  I swipe to answer. “Hello?” I all but snarl. I can’t help it.

  “Um…Forge?” Shannon stutters, she was obviously expecting Night.

  “Yes, how’s Ava? Where are you?” I hear Ava groaning in the background. “Is my wife okay?” I yell, barely able to control my impatience. I clench my teeth to stop myself from screaming more questions at poor Shannon.

  “She’s fine. She’s fine,” Shannon repeats. “We’re at the hospital.”

  “Already? That was fast.” I push out a sigh of relief.

  “The lights all turned green as we drove towards them. It was amazing,” Shannon gushes. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  I smile. My woman is part demigod. She has the power of luck on her side. “Good. I’m glad to hear it. We’re about ten minutes out. Lyre is behind us.”

  “It’s going quickly.” Shannon sounds unsure. I don’t like it one bit.

  “What do you mean?” I bark.

  “I mean, her contractions are coming one after the other. They’re hectic. She’s on a gurney, we’re on our way to the delivery ward.” I can still hear Ava groaning and breathing in the background.

  “Delivery?” I snarl.

  “Relax. She’s still being admitted. All women who are in labor go to the delivery ward. It doesn’t mean she’s giving birth as we speak. I’m sure they’re waiting for Lyre.”

  “Tell her to hang in there! We’ll be there soon.”

  “I will,” Shannon says.

  “Tell her I love her.”

  “You can tell her yourself.” Shannon sounds like she’s smiling now. “She’s having a baby. Plenty of women have babies. It’s going to be alright.”

  “You’re right. See you shortly.” I swipe to end the call and push out a shuddering breath. Then I pinch the bridge of my nose.

  “Is everything okay?” Night asks.

  I relay the conversation, even though I’m sure he caught it.

  “Ava is tough,” Night says. “Pain during labor is normal.”

  “Wait until it’s your woman who’s in pain,” I grumble, trying to keep calm.

  “You’re right,” Night agrees as he indicates to turn.

  We drive for what feels like forever. Especially the last mile or two. Then we’re finally pulling into the parking lot. I’m out and running almost before the vehicle comes to a complete stop.

  “Ava Smith?” I yell as I arrive at the reception. Smith is the last name I’ve taken on for the sake of humans. I know it isn’t very imaginative, but I couldn’t give a shit. “I’m here for my wife.” I try to tone it down and fail.

  The reception staff is gaping. They look afraid. I guess I can’t blame them, given my size and the gruff delivery of my request. “She’s pregnant.” I do my utmost to stay calm. “In labor,” I add.

  The closest person, a lady, breaks into a smile. “Of course. She arrived about fifteen minutes ago.” She gives me the information I need, as well as directions on how to get to the delivery ward. “Oh, and, all of the best!” she shouts after me as I jog in the direction she pointed.

  I hear Lyre shout behind me, but I don’t wait. I need to see Ava. I need to know that she’s okay. I go up the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, bounding up four at a time. I push through a set of doors and jog down the corridor, taking a left.

  The sign reads ‘Maternity Ward’. The delivery wards are in there. I’m in the right place. There is a security guard posted at the door. I ignore him and try to go in. “You need to sign in, sir,” he says, standing to block my way.

  I admire his bravery. “My wife is in there!” My voice is still a loud growl. I glare down at him, my eyes narrowing. I must appear massive. I’m that pumped.

  “Um…that may be so…um…sir…but you…still need to…um…sign in. It’s for the…safety of the…babies.” He breaks eye contact and looks at his feet.

  I push out a breath. I feel like an ass. “What do you need me to fill in?”

  I can hear Ava inside. She’s in the middle of a contraction. I’m getting ready to break down the door. Shannon is comforting her. She’s not alone, I remind myself.

  Breathe.

  Calm.

  Breathe.

  I fill in my basic information and hand the security guard my driver’s license. He writes something in, taking his sweet time. Then he hands me the card. “Thank you,” he says, then adds something else, but I don’t hear because I’m pushing through the doors and heading inside.

  “Good afternoon, doctor,” I hear behind me, followed by, “Wait up!”

  It’s Lyre. Against every instinct in me, I wait until he reaches me.

  “She’s in room one-twelve in delivery,” he says.

  “I know,” I grunt. I allow him to take the lead. I can hear talking, then Ava is having another contraction. I follow Lyre into yet another room.

  “Ava!” I yell. She’s on a bed. Her legs are open. An older man in a white coat is between them. He pulls his hand away. I notice that the rubber glove he is wearing is covered in blood.

  Ava’s face is pinched. She’s in pain. I can see it in her eyes, which widen as they land on me. I also see relief. “Forge,” she croaks, holding out her hand to me.

  “Dr. Flanagan,” Lyre says.

  I grab her hand. “I’m here now.” I brush some hair from her face, which is flushed and glistening with perspiration.

  “Dr. Jennings. I hope you don’t mind. I was paged. We weren’t sure how long you would take to get here. The nurse was concerned that Ava was already in active labor. Turns out, she’s already eight centimeters dilated.” He lifts his brows. “You’ll be happy to know that her heart sounds normal.”


  “What does all of that mean?” I yell.

  “It means that you’re going to be a father soon,” Lyre says, giving me a reassuring nod. “You’re doing great, Ava,” he adds

  “The fetal heart rate is strong,” the other doctor says; his eyes are bright.

  “That means everything is progressing nicely.” Lyre smiles. “Are you guys ready to be parents?”

  Before we can answer, Ava’s grip tightens on my hand. “Not again!” she grinds out. Then she’s grabbing her belly and groaning deep. I can hear she’s in a world of pain.

  “Breathe, hun…breathe.” I start doing one of the breathing techniques we learned in birthing class.

  It doesn’t take long, and she follows suit. I think it’s helping. I pray to god it’s helping.

  “That’s it, Oreo. You got this!”

  From the corner of my eye, I see Shannon step backward. “I’ll be outside,” she says. “Call me if you need me,” she adds.

  I glance her way. “Thank you.”

  She smiles.

  Ava is still breathing frantically. Her eyes are squeezed tightly shut. “That’s it. You’re doing great.” I’ve never been more afraid in my whole life.

  Night

  I’m pacing, but I can’t help it.

  “You’re making me dizzy,” Trident complains; he’s lounging on one of the chairs in the waiting area.

  “How can you be so calm?”

  “Easy.” He yawns. Then he sits up. “I just realized we don’t have any whiskey. It’s supposed to be cigars and whiskey to celebrate the birth of a baby, isn’t it?”

  I shrug. “No idea.”

  “I’m pretty sure it is. Maybe I should go and get some.”

  “No!” I shake my head. “Forge does not need whiskey. He needs us here…that’s all.” I feel a pang as I think about Bolt. He’s texted me a couple of times over the last couple of weeks. He’s invited me over, but I’ve declined. He still hasn’t found it in himself to get off of his ass to come and see me in person. Things between us are stilted. There’s a tension. Maybe we were never as tight as I thought we were. It’s his loss. I found out afterward that he sent a blanket apology to everyone after he acted like such a dick at that meeting. An apology via text. What is wrong with him?