Oh man.

I looked at Diandra and finished. “I’m okay; it’s just that I’m having a baby.”

She smiled into my face.

Karrim rushed to the steps and shouted down, “Call the Dax immediately! His child comes!”

Great.

Karrim had a big mouth.

Diandra pulled me carefully out of the lounge chair, murmuring,

“Let’s get you down those stairs while we still can.”

This, I thought, was a good idea. So I followed her after I got to my feet and Karrim rushed back to us. They walked me to the stairs, one on each side holding my arms tightly like I was an invalid, not just pregnant.

I ignored this and turned to Diandra. “We must talk.”

“Yes, my dear,” she nodded, “but perhaps not now.”

We made it to the top of the stairs. “I need to explain.”

“I’m sure you do,” she let me go, took a step down then turned and grabbed my hand, starting to lead me down as Karrim spotted me from behind, “but later.”

“There was a reason I was –” I started, she stopped halfway down the stairs and gripped my hand tight.

“Circe, can you please concentrate on getting down the stairs, successfully delivering the warrior who will succeed the Dax and then we’ll chat about why you locked yourself away to lick your wounds, grieve your lost world, consider your future… all of which I, and all your friends, already understand. Does that sound good to you?”

I grinned. “Yeah, sweetheart, that sounds good to me.”

She nodded smartly, muttered, “Dohno,” and she and Karrim finished leading me down the stairs were all my girls, save Twinka, were waiting, bouncing on their toes with ill-concealed excitement.

Shit.

Chapter Thirty-Two

The God and Goddess

“Push, my golden queen,” the healer, standing behind me in the bathing pool supporting my torso with her arms wrapped under my armpits, hands curled around my shoulders, urged in my ear.

My eyes stayed locked to Lahn’s as I breathed, “Right.”

It was official. I was never having another child. And I wasn’t because this shit hurt like a mother.

And I wasn’t all fired up about how the Korwahk delivered babies. That was, me in a Korwahk-style nightgown in the pool, the healer holding me up at my back, one of her (three! like I needed that much fucking company!) assistants holding me on one side, another on the other, the third outside the pool for some reason I did not ask and, best of all (not!), my ankles resting on Lahn’s broad shoulders. This was, by the way, a Lahn who was in his hides, kneeling in the pool ready to catch the kid should he ever deign to make an appearance.

Apparently I was wrong. Kah teenkah tunakan wasn’t peeved he didn’t have enough room to move. He liked it in there and he was staying.

My body just was done with him being there.

The problem was, as hard as I tried, as deep as I pushed, I couldn’t get the kid out.

And this had been going on a long time. Too long. I was worn right the fuck out.

I pushed with all I had left, which really wasn’t a lot, then gave up, my head falling back on the healer’s shoulder because I couldn’t hold it up anymore, my eyes losing contact with Lahn’s for the first time since this shit started (except, of course, when I closed them to push).

“Circe, my dear, please, please, push, ” Diandra encouraged.

She was wandering the side of the bathing pool with Ghost prowling at her side, watching, wringing her hands and as the minutes passed, visibly moving from excitement, to minor freak out, to major freak out and now she was not hiding out and out panic.

“I can’t,” I whispered, the pain ripping through me, I couldn’t push and fight the pain at the same time. It just wasn’t happening.

“I must cut, my Dax,” the healer said quietly.

“Me,” Lahn growled fiercely.

“He is not coming,” the healer continued quietly, stating the obvious.

“Me! ” Lahn barked and her arms tightened around me.

“My queen, please, you must push, ” she whispered in my ear.

I nodded weakly, lifted my head and tried again. I had little left, I gave it all I could, squeezing my eyes tight and digging my heels in Lahn’s shoulders but nothing doing.

I collapsed back into the arms supporting me.

“My Dax,” the healer hissed urgently, “I must cut.”

“You cut, I lose my queen,” Lahn growled and I closed my already closed eyes tighter.

“Maybe I can sew her together, like she did the warrior,” the healer suggested.

Oh man. Primitive experimental surgery.

Fucking great.

“You will not cut, ” Lahn growled again and I felt his fingers wrap tight around my ankles. “My doe,” he called, his voice soft, “give me your eyes.”

I fought the pain, pulled in breath and with effort lifted my head.

Then I stared at what I saw. It was a hazy stare but I saw it.

Yes, I definitely saw it. Clear and unhidden.

Lahn was scared.

“My tigress does not admit defeat,” he told me, his fingers tightening around my ankles. “My golden warrior never admits