Then, it happened.

Claire froze mid-motion, her face paling as a sharp pain shot through her abdomen. Her breath hitched. She pressed a hand instinctively to her belly. The rush of warm fluid confirmed what she already feared—her waters had broken. Faith was coming, and far sooner than she had expected.

"Christ, Sassenach..." His voice cracked with fear.

Murtagh and Dougal exchanged alarmed glances from across the room, the gravity of the situation dawning upon them.

"She can’t birth the bairn here," Dougal hissed, his voice low but laced with urgency. "We need to move before the English find us!"

"And risk her life? Or the bairn’s?" Murtagh growled, his voice rising. "She’ll die if we move her now, Dougal. Ye ken that as well as I!"

"Two of ‘em are down already!" Dougal snapped, gesturing to both Rupert and Claire. "We’ll all be corpses if we stay here much longer!"

Claire clenched her teeth, suppressing a grunt as another contraction tore through her. Her grip on Rupert’s bed tightened, her other hand clutching Jamie’s sleeve. Even through the pain, her voice was steady, almost a growl of its own.

"Stop arguing... and make yerselves useful. I’ll not have my bairn born in a bloody battlefield because ye' two can't decide where to stand!" Jamie shot a furious glance at both men before refocusing on Claire. "We stay," he declared, his tone brooking no argument. "We stay and bring her into this world safely."

Dougal scoffed but turned away, muttering under his breath. Murtagh moved closer to Claire, his usual gruff demeanor softening as he knelt beside her.