by R. Scarlett
He was unafraid of it now. If anything, it made him stronger.
Her breathing paused and her eyes widened.
“You cursed a beast,” he whispered and brushed his own lips against her parted ones. “And made him bow.”
Tears ran down her cheeks and she leaned her head back onto his chest.
“You can do this, Molly. You’re doing great,” he said one final time. “You’re doing great, Molly.”
When the doctor finally announced Molly was dilated all the way, and could finally start pushing when the next contraction came, Tensley kissed her sweaty cheek and smiled.
Freely. Happily. Nervously.
He had never, in his life, felt anxious, powerless, yet happy at the same time. It was a strange feeling, but one he wouldn’t want to change for anything else.
His dolcezza was doing great, his son was doing great. And soon, soon he’d get to finally meet him.
His own flesh and blood.
His first born.
When the next contraction came, Molly pushed and pushed, red-faced, in extreme pain, but she kept going.
And did the same during every following contraction.
She was so strong. So, so strong.
He admired her.
Whoever said women were weaker than men because they had been cursed with a womb had clearly never seen a woman give birth.
It wasn’t a curse. It was a blessing. A blessing that only showed how powerful and resilient women were.
Molly didn’t bow to the pain, she didn’t give up. She clenched her teeth and screamed through it.
Just like he knew she would.
She fought for Tensley and she fought for their son.
He continued to kiss her, to soothe her, to take away any pain he could.
She used him, she dug deep into his skin and pressed against his form behind her, but he didn’t want it any other way.
He wanted to be her everything, to never leave her side again, and conquer together.
For what seemed like hours, they worked together, soothing and pushing, building closer to the end.
“She’s crowning,” the doctor announced, looking between her spread legs. “I see the head.”
Tensley’s heart pounded deep inside of him. “We’re almost there, dolcezza. One more push. Just one more, ciccia. You can do it.”
And when the next contraction came, she cried out, but she didn’t stop.
She pushed, hard, deep, and he gave everything she could. Tensley gave her his strength, his power, his wrath, his soul and that iron heart.
At the sound of a baby’s cry, Molly sagged against him and they both gazed up to see a tiny baby, covered in blood, held up above her.
The doctor placed their crying son in Molly’s arms and her shaking hands cradled him against her bare chest.
She sobbed, a wide smile of shock and joy battling on her features.She stroked the dark thick hair on his tiny head.
Tensley brought his hand forward and gently stroked his son’s back. His son.
Their son.
His voice caught in his throat and he blinked back warmth. He tightened his grip on Molly, flushed against her and watched her care for their infant son.
“He’s so beautiful,” she whispered through a quiet cry.
A rush of emotions collided inside of him, but all he could do was watch.
“We just need to take the baby to make sure he’s well,” his mother told them, and carefully picked him up, handing him over to the doctor.
Molly relaxed against him, her head turning to the side and he realized after a few seconds, she was listening to his heartbeat.
He wrapped an arm around her, not caring about the sweat and blood between them as the doctor cleaned her up around her lower regions.
“What if he’s not okay?” Molly asked, tiredly, as she tried to sit up.
Tensley held her to him and brushed her hair off her sweaty neck, kissing her there. “Rest, doclezza. We both need you to rest.”
She hummed back to him, but didn’t protest and snuggled against him.
He watched as the women and the doctor examined their baby, analyzing each expression to see if he could tell what they were thinking.
If his baby wasn’t well…
He kissed Molly’s head again and laid his cheek against the top of her head. “You were incredible, dolcezza. Thank you,” he said, voice full of emotions. “Thank you for giving me a child. Our child. Our little boy.”
Again, she hummed back but he caught the faint smile on her pouty lips.
“It must be because she’s a daemon,” he heard one whisper.
The doctor scratched his cheek and took the baby in his hands. Slowly, he turned and walked the baby back to Molly and Tensley.
Molly stirred from her sleep and took the baby back into her arms.
“He’s healthy, a little tiny, but nothing alarming,” the doctor told them, but Molly wasn’t paying attention. Her eyes were glued to their son. “My assumption is because of the demon and daemon genes he’s strong enough and healthy. I will want to see him regularly to keep an eye on him, but for now, he’s healthy.”
The doctor paused.
“What is it?” Tensley asked, glaring at the man.
The doctor cleared his throat. “He has a full heart. A human heart.”
“What does that mean for the baby?” Molly asked, her eyes widening.
The doctor seemed to think about it, unsure of what the answer should be. “The truth is, we don't really know, Mrs. Knight. We've never encountered a half demon with a human heart. But it doesn't seem like it causes any threat to him, he's still strong, stronger than a human would be. I guess only time will tell. Perhaps, the more he grows up, the more we'll learn.”
Molly breathed out slowly, no doubt nervous at the thought. “Scorpios won't like this. They won't like the thought of the heir to Scorpios having a full, human heart. What can we do?”
“I’ll convince them otherwise. I’ll make sure of it,” Tensley told her and kissed her cheek. “Whether he has a human heart or not, he's still half daemon and half demon, no one will take that away from him. He's our flesh and blood.”
Tensley dropped his gaze back to their son. The baby cried softly now and Molly cooed back to him.
His eyes fluttered open briefly and she gasped, Tensley’s heart freezing. The vividness of blue peeked through his dark lashes.
“He has your eyes,” Tensley whispered stunned. “He has daemon eyes,” he repeated, his mind running a thousand miles an hour.
Molly bit back a sob and smiled through the tears. “He’s a daemon and a demon,” she said between stuttered breaths. “He truly is. He'll have my strength and power, not just the gene. A boy. A daemon boy.”
Tensley smiled back at her outburst, but his own chest was tight with happiness.
“Lance won't believe it,” she said, laughter in her voice. “Incredible...” she whispered to herself.
Slowly, Tensley laid his hand on top of Molly’s and squeezed.
THE LIGHT FROM the window hit Molly’s eyes and she squinted. Exhausted and sore, she wanted to sleep, but she wanted to see her son.
Their son.
She patted beside her on the bed where she had laid the baby, but felt nothing. Her heart seized and she sat up, to find the bed empty.
Just as she was about to get up and search, she saw Tensley standing by the window.
Their son was cradled in his thick arms of muscle and steel.
The baby whined, but didn’t cry. He stretched his tiny, wrinkled new-born arms above his head and Tensley rocked him, holding him against his bare chest.
Skin to skin.
The mere sight of seeing Tensley holding her son was something she feared she’d never see.
It broke and mended her heart all at the same time.
The powerful, deadly beast gently holding their son.
She stayed still, afraid to spook him, afraid to turn away and miss this s
cene of raw tenderness and love from a beast that once didn’t have a heart.
Tensley hushed his son and traced a finger down his tiny spine, calming him.
Molly swallowed.
Tensley’s dark eyes darted to hers and he stilled, pausing for a second, only to continue rocking their son.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” he whispered, moving forward.
She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t look away from the man in front of her.
“I think he needs his mother though,” he added, his voice husky and thick and everything that made her stomach flutter.
She lifted her arms and he walked over, placing the tiny infant in her hands. She cradled him against her chest and sat back against the pillows Tensley must have brought her. After the doctor gave the baby back, the women had helped her breastfeed for the first time and it damn well hurt. Soon, she had fallen asleep against Tensley. She had fought sleep, but it won and Tensley encouraged her to sleep. That he would watch after their son.
“Hi baby,” she whispered, fixing his position so he lay across one of her arms. She unbuttoned her nightgown and brought his mouth to her breast.
She felt Tensley’s eyes watching her closely.
He struggled at first, fussing, but when he found her nipple, he latched on.
She tensed from the uncomfortable pain.
“What is it?” Tensley asked, his brow furrowed in worry as he sat down next to her.
“It’s just a bit uncomfortable,” she told him, leaning back against the pillows. She braved a glance at him.
He was watching her closely, his dark eyes glued to her features.
Her cheeks warmed. This man had the ability to leave her speechless, to stir up emotions she never thought existed, and to make her heart ache.
“What?” she asked, frowning at him. She knew she probably looked like a mess. Her hair was greasy and her skin was sweaty and she definitely smelled. But she felt happy.
She had her baby.
Her son in her arms.
Tensley’s thumb brushed along her cheek, slowly, painfully taking it’s time, like branding his touch into her own flesh, and she blinked back at him, breathless.
“Are you sore?” he asked, scanning her body.
“A little bit,” she whispered back, looking at him through her lashes.
“Come here,” he said and she scooted slowly into his arms. He wrapped one arm around her waist and bent his head, his lips touching hers ever so slowly. “Let me take away the pain.”
Molly fell into his arms, into his words, her baby nestled against her chest. The kisses were tender, so soft they felt like feathers against her mouth, but she felt the wave of endorphins spread up her limbs, helping to ease the tenderness.
For hours, he held her, gently kissing her, out of affection, out of duty to take care of her, their son falling in and out of sleep in the process.
“Is that better?” he asked between a kiss.
She nodded against his forehead.
“Molly,” he whispered, his breath fanning across her hair.
“Hm?”
She felt him swallow thickly. “I found out more about the curse. More than you knew.”
Molly held her breath. “What did you find out?”
He worked his jaw and sighed. “That if my heart is ripped out again…I won’t come back. It’s death.”
Her stomach dropped.
“But you have nothing to worry about,” he told her as he kissed her temple.
He moved back, perhaps to get a better look at her but Molly, her heart freezing, gripped his bicep.
He frowned at her. “What’s wrong, dolcezza?”
She breathed out shakily and let go. “I’m just…afraid.”
His ruthless brows furrowed into a deep line. “Afraid of what? I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Molly couldn’t meet his eyes and shook her head. “It’s not that…” She fixed the hold on her son and he cooed, snuggling closer. With another deep breath, she braved a look up at Tensley. “I’m afraid all of this is going to disappear. It’s all too good to be true. I have you back—but I’m so scared of losing you again.” Wetness filled her eyes and she lowered her head, stroking the baby’s soft cheek.
Damn pregnancy hormones still ruling over her emotions and body, she wanted to say.
She couldn’t wait for those to finally go away…
Tensley’s large hand cupped her own cheek and raised her chin to meet his gaze. His own eyes were dark, holding a vicious storm within them.
“Dolcezza, I’m not going anywhere. Ever again,” he bit out and as a tear slid down her face, his thumb caught it and he smoothed it into her skin. “No court, no gods, no duty will keep me from you. Not even death.”
Molly’s heart trembled inside her ribcage from the mere strength of his words. So powerful, so vicious, and deadly—a god would bow to them.
“This heart,” he hissed, gripping her wrist and placing her palm against his chest to feel the thundering of his own heart. His dark eyes pierced hers and stole her breath away. “This heart is yours. All fucking yours. No one will ever take this away from me again.”
She couldn’t look away from where her pale hand laid, feeling the thump of his iron heart. Her iron heart.
It was back.
It was hers.
She sobbed openly, exhausted and happy and overwhelmed.
“Dolcezza,” Tensley hushed onto her cheek before he pressed another precious kiss there. His tongue licked a few tears from her skin and then he kissed her again. “What are we going to name him?”
She giggled at that and Tensley’s fingers swept across the baby’s forehead.
“He looks like you,” she said, touching his button nose and the baby cooed.
“All I see is you in him,” Tensley whispered back.
When she looked up at him, she saw how tenderly Tensley watched him. So closely, listening, watching for any sound.
“Do you want to hold him?” Molly asked, shifting the baby in her arms.
Tensley looked up at her and he paused. Once he nodded, Molly placed the baby back in his powerful arms and he cradled him against his bare chest, leaning back.
Molly leaned back against his side, resting her hand on his chest.
She watched the two most important people in her life, the sunlight spilling in slowly over them.
“What about Salvatore?” Molly asked, stroking Tensley’s chest in soothing circles. Tensley paused, his brows dropping as he stared down at his son. “After your father. I think you mother would love it,” she said with a soft but sad smile.
Sad for the woman who had clearly lost a man she cared about so dearly.
Perhaps, Salvatore had been Daphne’s Tensley.
Her smile turned amused at the thought.
The baby cooed again and Tensley brought his index finger to their son’s little fist. The baby’s fist opened and wrapped around that one finger.
“Salvatore,” he muttered back and the baby gurgled, a faint smile appearing. Tensley laughed, breathlessly. A corner of his mouth quirked. “My little warrior.”
She kissed his jaw line and he turned, capturing her mouth and in the warmth of darkness, the three of them lived in a fantasy.
Hours passed and Tensley waited on Molly—even when she tried getting something for herself, he would object and bring everything over to her.
Food for her growling stomach.
Pads for her postpartum bleeding.
Cream for her sore nipples.
When she finally announced she had found the courage to take a shower, he brought her a bag full of different kinds of shampoos, conditioners, body washes as well as a ridiculous amount of other products she didn’t need. To which she laughed, saying if he thought she smelled and needed to take a shower, he only had to ask.
That only made him frown. And she laughed some more.
When the baby cried, he got up and brought the baby to her.
It was pure bliss. All of it.
She didn’t want to let Tensley go, but the weight of the High Court sat heavy on her chest. She didn’t want them to be separated. She didn’t want to lose him again.
Each time he touched her, stroked her, kissed her, even just looked at her, she felt the warmth pass through her. The beast was tamed, and the iron heart was hers again, but for how long this time?
At the sound of the door creaking open, she turned to see Daphne tiptoeing in.
“Mother,” Tensley hissed, unaware Molly hadn’t been sleeping but watching him read over papers next to her. “She’s resting.”
He stood from the bed and stepped in front of the door.
“I just wanted to see my grandson,” Daphne whispered back. “You’ve had them locked up for two days.”
“They both needed rest. I needed to heal her,” he told her and Molly’s heart warmed.
“Childbirth is natural, Tensley,” Daphne argued. “A woman’s body was made to be able to give life.”
Tensley sighed and folded his arms. “I didn’t like seeing her in pain.”
Neither of them spoke, but she saw the soft expression on Daphne’s face as she looked up at her son.
“Both of them are healthy. Both of them are safe. You need to sleep, too,” she told him, touching his arm.
“I’ll sleep when it’s safe,” he told her. “I’m not risking either of them.”
Daphne smiled up at him and touched his cheek. “You remind me so much of your father.”
“I am not him, mother,” he told her, softly, but Molly knew the hurt that strung in his voice. “Molly wants to name the baby Salvatore.”
“Oh,” Daphne said and looked over to the bed. The baby lay on Molly’s chest, fast asleep. “Do you want to name him that though? I understand you and he weren’t very close.”
Tensley stayed silent and after a moment, he moved back to the bed. “If she wants to name him that, then I’m fine with it. Whatever she wants.”
“She makes you truly happy, doesn’t she?” Daphne asked from the doorway.
