Miguel props your head up with his muscular arm, planting a cold washcloth on your forehead.

"Come on, mija. Push, he's almost out." He gave you a soft smile, his fangs glistening due to the light.

Miguel couldn't wait for you to push out his son so he could see his little spiderling. Miguel's head on top of your own.

"Siempre te protegeré hasta el día de hoy." He nuzzled your hair.