IRIS
“Oh, fuck,” I hiss as another wave of pain flows across my stomach, tightening my abdominal muscles.
“That’s it, Iris, breathe through it. Just like all the others,” Andrei encourages, timing my contractions and trying to distract me from the fight that is happening just outside the doors of the security centre we’re currently hiding in.
Hunter and Roman are out there, having pushed the guards back enough for Bubby to shut and lock the door. At their fucking request, I might add. I got no say in the matter, just a glare from Daddy over his shoulder as he fought off two guards.
Andrei made the point that they needed to concentrate, and so did I, as this baby seems to be making up for lost time and coming sooner than any of us expected.
“Jesus,” I pant after the pain subsides, slumping down in the chair for a minute to take a break. Andrei has me walking the small space, Bubby monitoring things via the security cameras.
I glance up at the screen showing the office where Nik and Roo were facing off against Sergi moments before. That all changed when Alexei snuck into the room, and now Sergi seems to be impaled on his desk with knives in his shoulders, his shirt torn off. Nik is carving something into his chest. It looks like Russian words, and Sergi is thrashing around as Rowan stands to one side, arms folded and smiling like a loon. Crazy fucker.
“Oh god,” I moan, rocking as another pain zaps over me, stronger than the last one. “They’re getting worse.”
“That’s good, Iris. Shows your son is on his way,” Andrei assures me, rubbing my back as I breathe through the pain, which is a lot fucking easier said than done.
The agony lasts longer than last time too, and tears fill my eyes once it’s over. I just want my guys here, and I want to be somewhere they can make sure my son is okay, because Andrei doesn’t have any monitors with him, so we only have his basic kit.
“I’m scared,” I whisper, sweat dotting my brows as I get up with Andrei’s help, needing to move. “I’m scared that something will happen and we won’t be able to do anything.”
Andrei’s eyes look pained, the skin of his face tight, but he gives me a reassuring smile, his arm around my waist as we walk back and forth again.
“I know it’s scary, Iris, but we will get through this, and your son is strong.”
The sounds from outside get louder, like more people are there, and I look at Andrei with wide eyes. Bubby gets up from his seat, rushing over to the door, which has a safety glass window.
“Shit! There are more guards.” My heart thrashes inside my chest. “But it looks like there are other guys fighting from the other end.”
“Alexei,” I murmur, remembering hearing his words before I took my comms out because it was distracting and made the pain worse. “He said his men were clearing the mansion.”
Lightning flashes across my abdomen and I scream. This pain is terrible, much stronger than the ones before, and it’s all I can do to breathe as Andrei coaches me through it.
“You’re doing so well, Peaches.” Hunt’s voice filters in through the pain, and I glance up, teary-eyed, to find him next to me, covered in blood, but he’s here. “So is Roman, and we’re staying.” I must have said that last bit out loud, but honestly, my knees almost buckle as relief fills me with a wash of lightness.
I stutter a pain-filled sob as two sets of hands rub my back in soothing, firm circles.
“It hurts,” I whimper, the sharp pain ebbing, only to build again. I reach out, Hunt’s hand finding mine, and I squeeze as I scream again, the pain overwhelming.
“That’s it, baby, breathe for us,” Roman’s voice encourages from my other side, and I feel someone kneel in front of me.
“Iris, I think your son is making his final descent. I need to take your leggings off.” Andrei’s voice is calm, and I nod with a sob, the pain unbearable and never-ending.
As soon as the material is off my feet, I move towards the desk, the men following me as I bend over it, a force between my thighs taking over and telling me this is the position I need to be in.
“Shit, is that his head?” I hear Roman question, but there’s a burning at the entrance of my vagina that leaves me screaming and needing to push.
“Okay, Iris, breathe in and out, and don’t force anything,” Andrei says from behind me. I glance between my legs to see his hands there, and know that he’s kneeling down in preparation.
Roman and Hunt are on either side of me, my hand still clasping Hunt’s in a death grip. It’s like my body is not my own, like something else has taken over completely, and although I’m aware of my surroundings and the encouraging words of my men, I’m not entirely present.
Agony and pressure explode through me, and I give an almighty roar.
“That’s the head. Well done, Iris,” Andrei states. “Now breathe and let his body come slowly to avoid tearing.”
It’s almost impossible to do because everything inside me screams to push my baby out right the fuck now, but I do as Andrei says, breathing and not holding back, but not forcing things either. With a last scream, my baby slides from between my legs, and I slump my upper body onto the desk, panting and shaking.
Seconds later, a newborn’s scream fills the room, and I lift my head, my heart seemingly freezing before it starts to pound again.
“Here’s your son, Iris,” Andrei says, and he carefully, if a little awkwardly, hands me my son through my legs, the cord still attached and the placenta still inside me.
But I barely register any of that as my baby is suddenly in my arms. He’s slick, covered in bloody mucus, mouth wide, and protesting loudly at this rude awakening. My knees tremble, so I carefully lower myself down before I fall, Hunt and Roman helping me.
There’s a small contraction, and the afterbirth comes away, landing with a gross splat on the floor between my legs. I only spare it a quick glance because my gaze is too focused on my son. Our son.
“He’s beautiful, Peaches,” Hunt states, his hand reaching out, then pausing before he touches him. It’s covered in blood and fuck knows what, but frankly, I don’t think at this point it matters much.
“You can touch him, Daddy,” I encourage softly, briefly flicking my gaze up to his. Earlier, I took off my shirt because I was too hot, so my skin is pressed against my baby’s, and both of us are a mess of blood and other fluids. “I don’t think it’ll do any harm.”
His fingers brush our son’s cheek, and I watch as Hunt’s throat bobs, his eyes getting misty.
“Isn’t he perfect?” I ask, looking back down at him. Our baby. Our boy.
“He absolutely is,” Roman answers, his fingers brushing over his tiny hand that unfurls, then latches on. Ro laughs. “Has a good grip too.”
“I’m just waiting for the cord to stop pulsing, then we can cut it and maybe find you both a blanket,” Andrei says, pausing and looking at us with a soft look. “You did amazing, Iris. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Andrei, for everything,” I utter, my throat tight and the back of my eyes burning. I’m not sure we’d have made it without his help.
“You’re most welcome. Though maybe next time let’s make it less dangerous, Da?”
I laugh, turning my gaze back down to look at my son. My breath stills as I note the colour of his hair. Pitch-black. Like Nik’s.
“You have the best family in the world, little one,” I tell our son, lifting one hand from around him to brush his soft hair. “The best dads a boy could ask for.”
NIKOLAI
I gaze down at the mess on my Papa’s desk, at the mess that used to be Sergi Petrov. I gave in to my inner demon, who demanded blood to be paid for all of this man’s crimes, and now he lies there, blind with no tongue, covered in his own blood, and just barely clinging to life.
“You taught me well, father,” I say, bringing my knife up one last time. Rowan, the crazy bastard, has his gift for Iris. I shook my head as he carved it from Sergi, but who am I to tell him no? “But now it’s time to rid the world of your evil.”
“Your son is waiting to meet you.” Andrei’s voice comes over the comms, which went silent a while back. Or maybe I was too lost in the haze of violence to hear them.
My hand pauses, a range of emotions warring inside me.
“He’s beautiful, Sweetheart. Absolutely perfect, like his mother,” Hunt’s voice states, soft, and it has my heart skipping a beat inside my chest, a lump forming in my throat.
Rowan crows like a bird in celebration.
“You hear that, you cunt?” he sneers at Sergi, getting down so he is right by the man’s ear. “Our son has been born, and he will never know you. You can’t hurt him, will never see his face or speak to him.” Sergi makes an agony-filled mumble sound, though who the fuck knows what he’s trying to say.
“We will be his fathers,” I add, my voice firm, unyielding. “And you will be nothing.”
With that, I bring the knife down to his throat, slicing deep, and my hand doesn’t shake at all. A sigh leaves my lips when his blood spills around the wound, his gurgles quickly becoming quiet, his body going still.
“Let’s go meet our son, Niky boy,” Rowan says, throwing an arm over my shoulder as I stare down at the man who destroyed my life. An eye for an eye, because I’ve now taken his life, destroyed it with my bare hands.
Blinking, I look up to find Alexei gone, only Dima waiting.
“Were’s Volkov?” I ask, and Rowan shrugs.
“Left while you were going all butcher, which was masterful, by the way,” he replies as he turns me away from the dead body. Dima dispatched any of Sergi’s men who were alive in the safe room. This is now a mansion of dead men, which is fitting really.
He leads me out of the room, and we pause at all the dead bodies littering the corridor outside.
“Remind me not to piss Alexei off,” I say, not shrugging Rowan’s arm off. His touch is grounding me, as I feel a little adrift. It’s like I’ve been waiting so long for this day, and now that it’s here, I’m not sure what to do anymore.
Silently, we make our way through the quiet mansion, towards the security centre. We don’t come across any more alive guards, telling me that Alexei’s men really took care of them.
My heart beats harder as we approach the corridor where the security room is, but Rowan doesn’t give me time to stop. He just tugs me past yet more dead bodies and into the room, where our family, with its recent addition, waits.
I stop when I spot Iris, Roman and Hunter on either side of her, sitting on the floor with a blanket draped over her. Her hazel eyes look up, and her tired face splits into a wide grin.
“Nik, Roo, come meet him.”
My body moves before I give it permission, and I crash onto my knees in front of her, my gaze fixed on the bundle in her arms. She moves the blanket aside and I swear my heart stops beating.
Our son’s lips are wrapped around one of her nipples, his jaw working as he sucks, and it’s a sight that burns itself into my retinas. It’s so…right. And I reach out a trembling hand to brush my blood-soaked fingers over his hair.
It doesn’t matter that he’s biologically my brother. Or that I just killed our father. Or even that the man’s blood runs through both our veins. Because I know that neither of us is stained by Sergi’s evil. We do not carry his sins on our shoulders.
“He’s breathtaking, Moye Solntse,” I breathe out, my gaze darting up to hers. The back of my eyes burn, and I lean down, letting the first tear fall as I kiss my brother’s, my son’s, head.
A strong hand lands on my shoulder, another on the other one, and one on my back. They hold me as I cry over the head of this perfect baby. I could no more hold it back than I could not kill my father, and I don’t want to ignore how I feel, not anymore. I’m safe with my family, and that means I no longer have to deny how I feel, because they will accept me for who I am.
