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“Lorcan, please, we need to stop.” Elide’s voice sounds so small. The power usually present in her gentle but firm speech leeched away by pain. Lorcan should have never let her take a stroll today. Elide had insisted, maintaining it was a crime to spend such a beautiful spring day inside. Yrene had even given her seal of approval to the outing, saying there was no reason that Elide could not take a walk around the castle grounds. Lorcan had grumbled his disapproval, but if there was one thing he had learned about life with Elide, it was that once she set on mind on something, he was powerless to stand in her way. Which is why he had reluctantly allowed her to walk just a little bit further, to leave the safety of the gardens and venture down the path to the distant overlook. Elide had wanted to visit her favorite spot in Perranth, to look out on the land she had promised to serve; that they had both promised to protect. But that walk had also taken then far from the castle. Far from the help Elide now needed.
“The stables are right over there. Just set me down there.” Lorcan was carrying Elide in his arms, moving swiftly back along the path. Perranth Castle loomed over the top of the next rise. He tried his best to move as quickly as possible while also keeping Elide comfortable in his arms.
“Absolutely not,” he growled in response to her request. Lorcan was going to bear his wife all the way back to the castle and bring her straight to their chambers. Yrene could come attend to her there. To make sure all was well with his wife. “I’m not bringing you to a dirty stable and that’s–“
Lorcan never finished his statement; the words dying in his throat as she cried out in pain. Looking down at Elide, her face contorted in agony, sweat beading along her brow, Lorcan’s resolve to reach the castle crumbled. She needed rest more than she needed to reach the castle. If she thought the stables would serve, then to the stables he would bear her. As stubborn as fae males could be, they also knew when it was best to bow to the will of their mate.
They burst into the stables moments later. The force Lorcan used to kick the doors wide open startling the young stable boy. He fell back against a stall with a frightened squeak.
“You! Boy!” Lorcan bellowed. “Run to the castle. Fetch Lady Westfall and bring her back here.” Gently, he set Elide down on a bale of hay.
“L-L-Lady Westfall?” The lad stuttered. He was clutching a feedbag to his chest, as though it could protect him from over seven feet of demi-fae male. Farasha nickered in her stall. The proud warhorse undisturbed but Lorcan’s aggressive entry. Hellas’s horse through and through; with a soft spot for Elide.
“Yes. Go get her now!” He knew he was snarling, but he couldn’t stop himself. His concern for Elide’s well-bring overriding his basic manners. Lorcan hastily untied his cloak and spread it over the clean straw in the nearest unoccupied stall. He took a moment to arrange it into a bed for Elide. Carefully, he lifted his mate and laid her down on top of the nest he built for her. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. Farasha looked at her lady from across the hall. She inclined her elegant head, as though approving of Lorcan’s efforts.
“Lorcan,” Elide said softly, wiping a hand across her sweaty brow. “Be gentle with the boy. I think you’re scaring him.”
“Elide, love, the only person I care for right now, is you.” Lorcan brushed her hair from her face, saving his gentleness all for her.
“Is Lady Lochan alright?” The boy had recovered his wits enough to remove himself from the wall and peer into the stall over Lorcan’s broad shoulders. He had to stand on his tiptoes to do so. His eyes were a wide as dinner plates.
“Is there a problem with your feet as well as your ears?”
“Lorcan,” Elide chided her mate gently. “You should really –“ The rest of her admonishment was cut off when she cried out in pain again.
“Go!” Lorcan roared at the lad, never removing his gaze from Elide. The boy threw the feedbag to the ground. Oats scattered as he raced for the castle.
“What can I do for you?” Gone was the terrible roar. Only tenderness remained in his voice as he addresses his mate.
“Hold my hand?” Elide phrases it like a question, but they both know that Lorcan would do anything she asked.
“Of course.” He laced his fingers with hers. Elide smiles at him before grimacing in pain. “Yrene will be here soon. You are so strong, my love. So strong.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
~*~*~*~
“I found her! I brought Lady Westfall!” The stable boy skittered to a stop, sliding on the flagstone floor. He held his sides; breathing heavily, as though he had run to Dornaelle and back rather than just up the hill to the castle. Chaol entered the stables next, with Yrene close behind.
“We came as soon as we heard. Is everyone alright?”
Lorcan sat next to Elide on the bed of straw, one arm around her. She was leaning back into him, head lolled against his shoulder. He was shirtless; his garment repurposed.
“Yrene. Chaol,” Elide said softly. “Meet Cal Gavriel Lochan.” Nestled in her arms, wrapped in his shirt, is the most amazing sight Lorcan had ever beheld. A perfect baby boy. Their child. His son. Lorcan gently reached out to tuck his shirt, the babe’s makeshift swaddle, closer around his small body. Cal stirred in Elide’s arms, burrowing his head closer to his mother’s chest.
“Elide, he’s perfect,” Yrene breathed, dropping to her knees to check on mother and son. “Congratulations to you both.”
Lorcan puffed up with typical male pride at the sight of his mate beaming down at their child. He placed a kiss to Elide’s temple. He now had two people to protect and provide for. Two people to love. Two people he would do anything for. His heart had never felt so full.