The World Still Turns

Bowen woke in the dead of night, a pang of intense pain radiating from her swollen belly. It pulled a gasp from the small fae and one paw instinctively moved to settle upon her stomach. It was a good thing that she was back in her own rooms, because a moment later, the furs were wet beneath her. Gods... it was happening now!

With a gasp, Bowen told Bishop to go for help. Prose woke from her perch beside him and sat vigil while they waited. Help definitely wouldn't be coming in time. Teeth clenched as a hard contraction hit. Instincts told Bowen to push and she did so four times over. Before her sisters even arrived, she had completed the birth.

"We did it, Haiku," the exhausted woman panted, tears streaming down her cheeks. Blood coated the furs beneath her and she was a right mess, but the pups were whole and healthy. The first she named Ballad. The second, Titus. Third came Kolt and finally, Spriggan, the only little girl. She was so much tinier than the others.

Bowen didn't realize, but she had lost a lot of blood and was still doing so. Three large boys had done a number on her. She was tired. So very, very tired. Heavy lids closed over green eyes and Bowen drifted off into sleep while Haiku's pups fed at her belly.

"Bowen"