You closed your eyes, lying on the bed with your legs spread apart, every fiber of your being focused on the effort of giving birth. The pain was overwhelming, and in the quiet depths of your mind, you knew that the babe’s anatomy would be your and his undoing.

To your right, Rhysand wept silently as he worked desperately to heal you, to take your pain away. Nesta and Elain stood beside you on your left, their hands gripping yours with unwavering support.

Then Majda’s voice cut through the room. “The only way to deliver the babe is through a surgical incision,” she said, her gaze meeting yours. “But it will certainly cost both of your lives, Your Highness, and I fear there is no other way.”

Rhysand’s voice trembled as he whispered, his face pale and etched with anguish. “Darling.”