The pain became a bright white thing.
Then pressure.
Then burning.
Then release.
A third newborn cry filled the room.
It was smaller at first.
Then it rose higher.
Clear.
Sharp.
Alive.
The older woman's face broke into relief. "A girl."
For one second, Isabella did not understand.
Then the words reached her.
A girl.
Her whole face crumpled.
"She's a girl?" Isabella whispered.
The younger woman was already cleaning the baby with warm cloth, hands shaking from joy and exhaustion. "Yes. Lady Isabella, it is a girl."
The baby was tiny, curled in beast form like her brothers, her little snake body dark red but with a softer shine beneath the firelight. She also had two tiny soft horns on her head. They were small and delicate, almost hidden at first until the cloth moved. She cried again, her little body twisting with surprising strength.
Cyrus stared at her.
His daughter.
His sons.
All three children were here.
All alive.
And Isabella was still alive.
