A Shade Darker ✔️

{Chapter Fifty One}

It's A New Year (,) Baby

January 1st, 2018

Ashley

"More water!" Lucile called out through the open door of the spare bedroom where I lay fine, but slightly nervous on the bed in my camisole.

Looking back down at my notebook, I began writing again:

Contraction one: Kicking, dull pain, one-two minutes

Contraction two: Kicking has subsided, waves of nausea, 3-4 minutes

Contraction three: frequent pain, mild-harsh, 6 minutes

With a sigh I stopped writing and laid the notebook at my side.

"No pain medication? Not even a small sedative? Or I could possibly take a hit to the head" Lucile raises an eyebrow in good humor.

"And miss the birth of yer own bairn? Tempting, but no" I sighed, looked about the room and noticed the one important person who seemed to be missing.

"Where's Mike? I mean, er, the King?" Lucile business herself with dipping a washcloth into water and ringing it out, waiting patiently beside me I had gathered, until the next contraction would come.

"More than likely he's waiting in the living space until the wee 'Little Seed' is born" Waiting? I raise an eyebrow at her, the pain in my abdomen increasing again with harsh movements inside of me.

"Why is he waiting out there? Shouldn't he be in here?...With me?" Lucile notices the small alarm of worry on my face and touches my chin lightly, pretending to check my face for other signs of discomfort.

"Well with all the blood..." She pats my thigh reassuringly. "We'd not want any accidents, especially with your blood, lass. Didn't you know that a witch's blood is more desirable than a human's?" I scoff out a reply.

"I didn't until now. But since you mention it, I see now that it makes a lot of sense. But wouldn't you think he'd have the sense to control it? Do you think he could come in? To witness the birth?" Lucile laughs sympathetically.

"Aye, maybe if we put a clothes pin on his nose" I didn't have time to argue anymore, or ask for his company once the pain increased into another long, drawn out contraction.

A lash whips through me, causing a scream to erupt and a wetness spread through the bedsheets.

Lucile bounces as my head falls back against the pillow.

She clasps her hands over her mouth:

"The water's broken!"

Mike

Muffled screams and other noises echo out of the secluded bedroom where my wife lay, in agony and alone without me there to protect her. It was like standing by and watching someone beat her. Her screams were trying desperately to draw me closer, but I stayed away, fearing that the intensity of her blood would cause problems to arise.

Like most husband's of the colony, I would wait pacing back and forth until I was called in to see the arrival of my own child.

Maids are rushing in and out of the room, carrying buckets of water, clean and soiled sheets in their arms. None of them stop quick enough to speak to me, to fill me in on the progress, or even to glance my way.

Had I suddenly turned invisible?

The screams are growing louder and I clutch my hands over my ears to keep from rushing in to the room and regretting it.