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"Mother Night, that hurts," Surreal gritted out between clenched teeth. Women did not do this every day. It was impossible to think that anyone went through this much pain for something that was supposed to be a joyous event.
Of course, said joyous event was weeks early, which had to mean it wasn't even the actual pain she would have later. She squeezed her eyes shut, fingernails biting into her palm until she drew blood, trying to deflect the pain from her abdomen and the tightening there. She had held off her moontime before, and knew how horrid it would be the month she let it come, and somehow she had expected it to be like that, not this.
She had fought. She had been beaten. She had been raped. And, possibly, if she really cast her memory back to the latter she would admit that pain was far worse than this, but that wasn't somewhere she liked for her memory to go, and so right now she clung tightly to the thought that this was possibly the worst pain she had ever felt. Making it worse was that laced over the pain was fear, cold and clutching at her in a way nothing had since possibly that night at Briarwood.
It was too soon. She didn't know nearly enough about babies and how they were supposed to come, but Morghann had said not until the beginning of March, at least, possibly the middle of the month, and it was not anywhere near that yet.
Another contraction clutched at her, and she felt tears seep out from under her squeezed tight eyelids.
Scared, and hoping he could somehow stop this betrayal of her body of her and the baby it carried, she sent for Samael, and then she did something else she never thought she would do.
She prayed.
Of course, said joyous event was weeks early, which had to mean it wasn't even the actual pain she would have later. She squeezed her eyes shut, fingernails biting into her palm until she drew blood, trying to deflect the pain from her abdomen and the tightening there. She had held off her moontime before, and knew how horrid it would be the month she let it come, and somehow she had expected it to be like that, not this.
She had fought. She had been beaten. She had been raped. And, possibly, if she really cast her memory back to the latter she would admit that pain was far worse than this, but that wasn't somewhere she liked for her memory to go, and so right now she clung tightly to the thought that this was possibly the worst pain she had ever felt. Making it worse was that laced over the pain was fear, cold and clutching at her in a way nothing had since possibly that night at Briarwood.
It was too soon. She didn't know nearly enough about babies and how they were supposed to come, but Morghann had said not until the beginning of March, at least, possibly the middle of the month, and it was not anywhere near that yet.
Another contraction clutched at her, and she felt tears seep out from under her squeezed tight eyelids.
Scared, and hoping he could somehow stop this betrayal of her body of her and the baby it carried, she sent for Samael, and then she did something else she never thought she would do.
She prayed.
