Chapter 149 Hundred and forty nine

Chapter 149 Hundred and forty nine
Rowan's POV

I was elbow-deep in flour when the first contraction hit, sharp and sudden enough that I dropped the wooden spoon entirely, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter instead.

"Rowan?" Martha was beside me instantly, flour forgotten. "What is it?"

"I don't know," I said, breathing through the tightening pressure low in my stomach. "It's not like the surges. This feels different."

Martha's eyes widened, and she was already moving, calling for a servant to fetch the healer before I'd even finished the sentence. "How far apart, if there's been more than one?"

"This is the first," I said, though even as I spoke, I felt another building, sooner than I expected, tighter than the last.

"Too soon for that pace," Martha muttered, half to herself, guiding me firmly toward a chair. "Sit. Breathe. I'll find Julian and Marcus myself."

I sat, gripping the chair's arms as the second contraction built and crested, genuine fear cutting through the physical discomfort. Nine days, I thought. We had nine more days.

Marcus reached me first, breathless from running, his face draining of color the moment he took in my expression. "Rowan. Is it—"

"I think so," I gasped, another contraction already beginning to build. "Marcus, it's too early."

He was at my side instantly, taking my hand, though I could see the same fear I felt reflected plainly on his face despite his obvious effort to stay steady for my sake. "The healer's coming. You're going to be alright."

Julian arrived moments later, and I watched him take in the scene with the particular controlled panic I'd come to recognize during genuine crisis, his hands finding my shoulders gently. "How close together?"

"Getting closer," I managed, before the pressure built again, sharper this time, stealing my breath entirely.

The healer arrived within minutes, conducting a swift examination even as I gripped Marcus's hand through another contraction. "It's happening," she confirmed, urgency evident beneath her professional calm. "Earlier than anticipated, but the baby's positioned well. We need to move you to the birthing chamber immediately."

They helped me up, and the short journey through the mansion felt endless, each step punctuated by building pressure that left me breathless and increasingly frightened.

"Why now," I gasped, once we'd reached the prepared chamber, the healer already arranging supplies with brisk efficiency. "Why so early?"

"Stress can trigger early labor," the healer said, not unkindly. "The attack last week, everything since. It's not uncommon."
Guilt tangled with fear as I processed this, though another contraction stole the thought before I could fully form it into words.

"I'm frightened," I admitted, gripping Julian's hand on one side, Marcus's on the other, both of them positioned close despite the healer's brisk movement around us. "This feels different than the surges. Bigger."

"Because it is bigger," the healer said honestly. "But your body knows what to do, Rowan. Trust it."

The hours that followed blurred into an exhausting rhythm of pain and brief respite, Julian and Marcus taking turns pressing cool cloths to my forehead, murmuring encouragement I only half-registered through the overwhelming physical demand.

I tried the melody once, humming brokenly between contractions, but found myself too consumed by raw physical sensation to maintain the careful focus it required.

"I can't," I gasped, after another particularly brutal contraction, tears streaming freely now. "I can't do the melody, I can't reach for them properly, I don't have anything left—"

"You don't need to," the healer said firmly, checking my progress again. "This isn't about reaching for them anymore, Rowan. This is simply about bringing them into the world. You're doing beautifully."

"It hurts," I gasped, something raw and desperate entering my voice. "It hurts so much more than I expected."

"I know," Julian said, his own voice thick with emotion, though he kept his composure visibly for my sake. "I know, Rowan. You're so strong. You're doing so well."

Elowen arrived at some point, though I couldn't have said exactly when, taking up position near my head, her hand joining the others gripping mine.

"I'm here," she said softly. "Whatever you need, I'm here."

Something in her presence steadied me, the twin bond flaring faint but real beneath the overwhelming physical chaos, and I gripped her hand fiercely through the next contraction.

"Almost there," the healer said, something urgent entering her voice now. "Rowan, I need you to push, on the next one, with everything you have."

I did, screaming through the effort, every part of me focused entirely on the singular, overwhelming demand, and for a long, terrifying moment, nothing seemed to change at all.

"Again," the healer urged. "You're so close."

I pushed again, and this time, something shifted, a sensation unlike anything I'd experienced before, and then, suddenly, overwhelming silence broken by a single, sharp cry.

"A girl," the healer announced, voice thick with emotion despite her professional composure. "You have a daughter."

The room dissolved into chaos and joy simultaneously, and I caught only fragments — Julian's face, tears streaming freely despite his best effort at composure, Marcus's hand tightening around mine hard enough to hurt, Elowen sobbing openly beside me.

"Is she alright," I gasped, exhaustion crashing over me even as desperate need for reassurance cut through it. "She's early, is she—"

"She's small," the healer said carefully, already working quickly, "but breathing well. Crying strong. That's an excellent sign.”

They placed her against my chest moments later, impossibly small and warm, and I stared down at her, at the tiny, scrunched face already turning instinctively toward me, and felt every ounce of exhaustion and fear dissolve into something too enormous for words.

"Daisy," I whispered, tears streaming freely now. "Hello, little one."

Julian's hand found her tiny fist, wonder evident in every line of his exhausted face. "She's perfect."

"She's early," I said, fear still threading beneath the overwhelming love. "The healer needs to make sure—"

"I'm right here," the healer said gently, already conducting careful assessment even as Daisy remained against my chest. "Give me a moment, and I'll tell you everything."

The moment stretched agonizingly, and I held my daughter close, humming the melody instinctively now, the familiar rhythm settling something in my own racing heart even as I waited for confirmation of her wellbeing.

"She's small," the healer said finally, "but strong. Her lungs are clear, her heartbeat steady. I'd like to monitor her closely over the coming days, simply given how early she arrived. But Rowan, Julian, Marcus—I believe she's going to be just fine."

The relief that crashed through me was almost as overwhelming as the labor itself had been, and I pulled Daisy closer, Julian and Marcus both leaning in, all three of us surrounding her with desperate, overwhelming love.

"Welcome to the world," Marcus whispered, voice breaking entirely now. "We've been waiting so long to meet you."