The birth - ACOSF Feysand POV

You Would Have Been

Feyre

In the last moments Rhys and I were left alone, he moved to lay down on the bed next to me. He was as quiet as the night he ruled over.

"You told me once," I began to speak in a hushed tone. "During the war. You told me that even if you knew the outcome, you still would have waited five hundred years or more for me. You told me that if this was all the time we had left, it would be enough."

This time, the twinkle in his eyes wasn't due to the stars I found in them, but by the tears he was holding back.

"That's how I feel too. I didn't have to wait as long as you did, but if this, if this was all we had, I'd still be grateful. My life would have been worth it."

My mate let out a small sob. He buried his face in the crook of my neck while his arms wrapped around me with gentle strength.

"You would have been a wonderful mother, Feyre." His shaky breath made my skin tingle.

"You would have been the best father," I whispered while running my fingers through his hair. " I'd have to stop you from spoiling him too much."

"You'd spoil them with love and affection."

"You'd buy them more toys than we can fit inside our house."

"Is it wrong that I like to spend our money on the people I love?"

"Not at all. I'd like nothing more than to see our son have everything he needs."

"I would buy you the whole world if I could, Feyre."

"I know, Rhys. I know."

He kissed me the same way he had years ago. The first kiss we shared after I accepted the mating bond. The difference was that back then it was full of hope. It was filled with the possibility of our future. Now it was a farewell kiss, knowing it might be the last time.

The sky was my only indicator as to how much time had passed. When the sun swallowed the darkness, I knew it had been hours. Both Elain and Amren were in the room now as if preparing their goodbyes.

To distract me, my sister told me of the new flowers she had planted and how she hoped they would bloom by the end of summer.

Even Amren didn't have the heart to scold us at that moment. I don't think anybody had the heart to say anything to Rhysand. All they did was place their hand on his shoulder and squeeze.

Rhys.

My mate looked white as a sheet, staring down at me with those violet eyes. A color I'd remember even in death.

Mor had left again, this time with Azriel. Sunrise was just around the corner and she wanted to be there when the blood rite ended to bring Nesta back home.

If she survived.

I didn't have much time to worry about it, as I was distracted enough wondering if I'd survive.

The bed sheets beneath me were damp from my sweat. I was beginning to drift in and out of consciousness as I had been bleeding for a few hours.

Blood.

There was so much blood.

With worry laced in her voice, Majda had told us, "The babe is descending... But... It's stuck."

Majda pulled away and looked between my mate and I.

"I need to turn the babe," The healer told us. "It's the only possible way." The fact that she was warning us was enough to let me know that it came with its own risks.

"Just do it," I whimpered, squeezing Rhysand's hand, bracing myself for the pain.

Rhysand

There was no other scent, but one of my mate's blood.

My hands were trembling.

It was unbearable. Having to watch Feyre literally on her deathbed.

I kissed her forehead, my lips lingering there, and let her squeeze my hand while she screamed. What I really wanted to do was cover my ears and shut my eyes. I wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

No longer did I feel like a High Lord. Instead, I felt like the weak boy I was years ago, unable to save my mother and my sister. Helpless to do anything.

Anger was eating me alive, except I didn't know who to be angry at.

Was I angry at the cauldron for giving me this kind of happiness only to rip it away from me? Was I angry at myself for not knowing any better and preventing my mate from shifting into her Illyrian body when we conceived our son?

I barely heeded any attention to the latest arrivals in the room. Nesta and Cassian seemed to be in one piece.

Good. They'll need each other  once we're gone.

Though, I noticed the bloody attire on them both and the dried tears on Nesta's tired face. Whatever they had gone through must have been an ordeal. A story I'd possibly never know.

My focus returned to my mate and my stomach twisted when I saw her blood covering Majda's hands.

"I turned the babe, but he's not descending. He's wedged in the birth canal," Majda said without looking at us.

I heard Amren breathing in from the corner of the room she was standing in, her nails digging into her palms.

"She's losing too much blood, and I can feel the babe's heart in distress," Majda spoke again, shattering my world.

I nearly jumped back when my brothers walked over and put their hands on my shoulder.

"What do we do?" The question came from Mor.

"There is nothing we can do. Cutting the babe out of her will kill her."

"Cutting it out?" I heard Nesta ask in a demanding tone. Maybe it was my anger towards the world, but I gave her an undeserved glare.

"An incision along her abdomen, even one carefully made, is an enormous risk. It's never been successful. And even with Feyre's healing abilities, the blood loss has weakened her-"

"Do it," My brave and foolish mate managed to say. Every single one of her words was filled with pain.

"Feyre," I began to object.

Wake up, wake up, wake up. This is a dream. This isn't happening.

I was losing control of my powers as the room darkened despite the sun's rays.

"The babe likely won't survive."

Shut up.

"It's too small. We risk both of you."

Stop it.

It was Cassian who pulled me out of my thoughts by saying, "All of you."

He was watching me carefully, ready to catch me when I fell to pieces.

"Do it," Feyre repeated her words. This time there was no hesitation in her voice. Her voice was as steady as a rock. With the strength she upheld as a High Lady, she looked up at me. "We have to."

Regretfully, I nodded, tears pricking my eyes once more. I sat by her side once more and held her hand so tight as if it would save her.

I couldn't watch as Majda prepared her material and I was left with the small whispers of Elain's prayers.