119 Chapter 119


    Damien’s POV 1


    The medical equipment beeped steadily in the background, a metallic rhythm that matched the pounding of my heart. Dr. Morgan moved around Sera with practiced efficiency, but I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her lips pressed into a thin line whenever she thought I wasn’t watching.


    Six fucking months since Sera had woken up in this same hospital, broken and barely alive. And now she was about to give birth to our child without any of the supernatural healing or strength.


    “Damien.” Sera’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through my spiraling thoughts like a de. Her


    hand reached for mine, fingers trembling. “I’m scared.”


    I moved to her bedside immediately, threading our fingers together with infinite care. Even after all these months, seeing her like this-pale, fragile, purely human-still made my chest feel like it was being crushed in


    a vise.


    “Hey,” I murmured, bringing her hand to my lips and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “I’m right here. I’m


    not going anywhere.”


    Another contraction hit, and Sera’s back arched off the bed with a cry. Her grip on my hand became vice-like,


    her nails digging into my skin hard enough to draw blood.


    “Breathe with me, baby,” I coached, just like we’d practiced in those childbirth sses that feltpletely


    useless now. “In and out. That’s it.”


    Dr. Morgan checked her watch, then moved to examine Sera again. The older woman’s expression was


    carefully neutral, but I’d known her long enough to read the worry lines around her eyes.


    “How’s she doing?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.


    “The contractions are getting stronger,” Dr. Morgan replied, her voice professional but gentle. “We’re still


    several hours away from delivery, but…” She paused, ncing between Sera and me. “Damien, I need to be


    honest with you both. This is going to be more difficult than a normal birth.”


    “Without her wolf’s healing abilities, Sera’s body can’t handle the stress the way it should. The baby is healthy


    -strong heartbeat, good positioning-but carrying a mixed-blood child while purely human…” She shook her


    head. “The physical demands are enormous.”


    *Fuck.*


    、


    I wanted to punch something. Wanted to tear apart whoever had done this to her all over again.


    “We’re going to monitor everything very closely,” Dr. Morgan continued. “I’ve got the best team standing by, and we’re prepared for any scenario.”


    Another contraction rolled through Sera, this onesting nearly a full minute. She bit down on her lip so hard


    I could smell the copper tang of blood.


    “Don’t do that,” I murmured, gently touching her chin. “Don’t hurt yourself. Squeeze my hand as hard as you


    need to. Scream if you want to. Just don’t hold it in.”


    “It’s getting worse,” she gasped when the contraction finally released its grip. Sweat beaded on her forehead


    despite the cool temperature of the room.


    The next few hours passed in a blur of mounting intensity. Each contraction seemed to tear through Sera with increasing violence, and I watched helplessly as the woman I loved fought a battle I couldn’t fight for


    her.


    “I can’t,” she sobbed during a particrly brutal wave of pain. “Damien, I can’t do this. It’s too much.”


    “Yes, you can.” I leaned down so my face was level with hers, my voice fierce with conviction. “You’re the


    strongest person I know, Sera.”


    Dr. Morgan appeared at the foot of the bed, and I could tell from her expression that something had changed.


    “We’re at eight centimeters,” she announced. “It’s time to start thinking about pushing soon.”


    The next contraction hit like a freight train, and this time Dr. Morgan moved into position with renewed


    urgency.


    “Alright, Sera. This is it. On the next contraction, I need you to push with everything you’ve got.”


    “I’m scared,” Sera admitted, her voice breaking.


    “I know.” I positioned myself beside her, one arm supporting her shoulders, the other hand holding hers. “But


    I’m right here. We’re doing this together.”


    15.01


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    y


    mind. Her face turned red with effort, every muscle in her body straining.


    “Good!” Dr. Morgan encouraged. “I can see the head. One more like that.”


    But as the contraction faded, something changed. The monitors started beeping faster, more urgently. Dr.


    Morgan’s expression shifted to one of controlled rm.


    “What’s happening?” I demanded.


    “The baby’s heart rate is dropping,” she said curtly, her hands moving with practiced efficiency. “We need to


    get this baby out now.”


    Terror unlike anything I’d ever experienced crashed over me. Not Sera. Not our baby. I couldn’t lose them.


    Not after everything we’d been through.


    “Sera, honey, I need the biggest push you can give me,” Dr. Morgan ordered. “Right now.”


    The final contraction built like a tsunami, and Sera pushed with every ounce of strength left in her human


    body. The sound she made was part scream, part battle cry, andpletely magnificent.


    “The head’s out!” Dr. Morgan called. “One more, Sera. Just one more.”


    With a sound that was pure triumph, Sera gave one final push, and suddenly the room filled with the most


    beautiful sound I’d ever heard.


    The sharp, angry cry of our newborn baby.


    “It’s a girl,” Dr. Morgan announced, holding up our daughter-tiny, perfect, and furious at being evicted from


    her warm home. “A beautiful, healthy girl.”


    Sera copsed back against the pillows, sobbing with relief and exhaustion. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think,


    could only stare in wonder at the tiny miracle Dr. Morgan was cleaning up.


    “Is she…?” Sera asked weakly.


    “Perfect,” Dr. Morgan assured her. “Ten fingers, ten toes, good color, strong lungs. She’s absolutely perfect.”


    When she ced our daughter on Sera’s chest, I felt something fundamental shift in my world. Living proof


    of the love that had survived everything the world had thrown at us.


    10:01


    “Hello, beautiful,” Sera whispered, her voice thick with tears. “I’m your mama.”


    Our daughter’s crying stopped almost immediately at the sound of Sera’s voice, as if she recognized it from


    all those months in the womb. Tiny fingers stretched out, grasping at nothing.


    “She’s so small,” I breathed, afraid to touch her at first.


    “Seven pounds, two ounces,” Dr. Morgan reported with a smile. “Not small at all for a mixed-blood baby born


    to a human mother. She’s actually quite remarkable.”


    I finally worked up the courage to reach out and touch our daughter’s tiny hand. Her fingers immediately


    wrapped around my index finger with surprising strength, and I waspletely undone.


    “She’s got a strong grip,” I managed to say through the emotion clogging my throat.


    “Alpha blood,” Sera said with exhausted pride. “Just like her daddy.”


    “And determination like her mama,” I added, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Sera’s temple. “You did it,


    baby. You were incredible.”