Chapter 772: Chapter 773: Come take me then
Every time he reached for that power, the brand burned and dragged him back down. It felt as if something had hooked into his bones and was pulling him toward the voice he had heard before.
Come home.
Complete the sacrifice.
Osiris laughed through gritted teeth, and the laugh sounded more like a snarl. "Come take me then."
He threw fire across the snow.
The flames swallowed the first row of attackers, and the smell of burnt fur rose in the air. Another enemy came from the side, and Osiris kicked him down before pressing a burning hand to his chest. He did not even wait for the scream to finish before turning to the next one.
But even he could hear the cries from the palace whenever the wind shifted.
A baby had cried once.
Then the sound had faded under battle.
Isabella was still inside.
Still giving birth.
Still not safe.
That thought made his fire burn brighter. It also made the brand on his back burn hotter. He almost fell to one knee, then forced himself up again.
"If you want me to break," he muttered to the burning mark, "you picked the wrong night."
Inside the birth room, Glimora was changing.
It began when Isabella screamed again.
The little white beast had been staying close to the side of the bed, careful and quiet, but each cry from Isabella made something under Glimora’s fur tremble. The bond mark between them had always been strange. Isabella had saved her, raised her, spoiled her, and somehow the little beast had tied herself to Isabella in a way even Cyrus had not fully understood.
Now, because Isabella was in pain, Glimora felt it too.
Not the full pain.
Something deeper.
A pull.
A fear.
A desperate need to protect.
Her small claws dug into the fur. Her ears flattened. Her eyes began to glow faintly, not with ordinary fire, but with something pale and fierce. The soft white fur along her spine lifted. A faint heat moved through her body, then a low sound came from her throat.
The younger woman looked at her quickly. "The little beast..."
Cyrus saw it too, but he could not move away from Isabella.
"Glimora," Isabella panted weakly, noticing the change through the blur of pain. "Baby, don’t be scared."
Glimora looked at her.
The glow in her eyes flickered.
For a moment, she looked like a baby beast again, frightened and confused because her mama was hurting and she did not know how to make it stop. Then another scream tore from Isabella, and Glimora’s whole body shook.
A faint mark glowed under her fur.
The bond mark.
Cyrus felt the energy brush against the room. His eyes narrowed, but he did not stop it because it did not feel dangerous to Isabella. If anything, it felt protective. Young, messy, emotional, but protective.
The older woman had no time to ask about it.
"The baby is coming," she said firmly. "Lady Isabella, push again. I know you are tired, but he is almost out."
"I am tired because I have been doing this forever," Isabella cried. "Tell him to come out by himself."
The older woman wiped sweat from Isabella’s thigh and said, "He needs you."
Those words struck Isabella through the pain.
He needs you.
Her son.
Her second child.
Her baby needed her.
So Isabella pushed again.
She screamed while pushing. She cried while pushing. She cursed Cyrus, Bubu, this world, the children, and whoever invented birth. Cyrus let her say anything she wanted. He did not argue. He only held her and let her bite down on his arm when the pain became too much.
Blood touched her tongue again.
The mating mark burned.
The second baby moved.
"Good," the older woman said quickly. "Again. Do not stop now."
Isabella pushed again.
There was that terrible stretch again, that burning pressure that made her feel like her body was going to split apart. Her vision blurred. Her ears rang. She heard Cyrus saying her name. She heard Glimora whining. She heard the older woman telling her to keep going.
Then suddenly, the pressure released.
A small wet body slipped into the older woman’s waiting hands.
For one breath, the room stopped.
Then a cry rang out.
Loud.
Angry.
Alive.
The younger woman let out a breath that sounded almost like a sob. "Another boy."
Isabella collapsed back against Cyrus, trembling so badly that he had to support her with both arms.
Another boy.
The second baby had come out.
He had also come out in beast form.
This one was small and dark red too, his tiny body twisting under the warm cloth as the older woman cleaned him. He cried even louder than the first, as if he had been deeply offended by the whole process and wanted the room to know it. Two soft little horns sat on his head too, small and tender-looking, and when he opened his tiny mouth, Isabella thought she saw the faintest flash of something sharp before he wailed again.
The younger woman looked at the horns again, then at Cyrus.
Cyrus did not even wait this time. "Normal."
His voice was hoarse, but firm.
The woman nodded quickly. She had no wish to argue with the exhausted snake male who looked as if he would fight the heavens and the ground in the same breath if either one moved wrong near Isabella.
Isabella opened her eyes weakly and looked toward the sound.
When she saw the second baby, her face changed.
Even through pain, even through exhaustion, even through the battle raging outside, something soft and bright crossed her expression.
"He’s loud," she whispered.
Cyrus pressed his lips to her damp temple. "He is strong."
The second baby cried again.
Then the first baby, who had been wrapped nearby in a warm fur-lined cradle, answered with his own cry.
For a moment, both newborn cries filled the room.
Two babies.
Two boys.
Two living, crying little creatures who had been inside Isabella’s body only moments ago.
The sound traveled beyond the room.
Outside the door, Zyran heard it and went completely still.
Two cries.
