“I CAN’T DO THIS,” I bit out as my mates hurried me into the hospital.

My water hadn’t broken at all like they showed in the movies. It’d been more of a trickle. I’d honestly thought I’d lost control of my bladder, which had been embarrassing. But nope. It turned out that was the start of labor.

“You can,” Cyrus assured me with a kiss as he guided me into a wheelchair. My mate still looked pale from misting in from wherever he’d been. I wanted to smack him and Exos for leaving, even if it was unexpected that I would go into labor early. What could have been so important to take that chance?

And on Christmas Eve?

The latest contraction eased off, and I released the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Without the wave of pain overtaking my brain, I was able to think clearly.

Oh, right.

“Was today the vote?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

Cyrus and Exos shared a grin. “Not quite, little queen. But close.”

“Well, tell me,” I said, eager to know what had happened. They’d been out of the realm for a reason.

“Shouldn’t we concentrate on the faeling?” Vox asked.

I narrowed my gaze at him. “I’m having a difficult time concentrating on anything else.”

He flinched. “Sorry.”

Titus pushed me into the elevator and stared at the buttons. “Which fucking floor was it again?”

“Third,” Vox said, always efficient, as he shoved an arm through and stabbed the number. “That’s triage, where they’ll evaluate her.”

“She’s clearly in labor,” Exos said, irritated. “What kind of evaluation do they need to do?”

“Exos,” I said. “Tell me what happened.”

“Pregnant and giving demands,” Cyrus mused, leaning down to brush his lips over mine. “We were in the underworld, little queen. Lucifer has agreed to support your initiative, and I have his signed vote in my pocket.”

My eyes widened. “You got the Hell Fae to—” I cut off on a gasp as pain crashed through me again, knocking the air from my lungs and causing all my muscles to tighten in agony.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to cut the pain off from seeping into my mate-bonds.

“I told you not to do that,” Cyrus chastised as he took my hand. “If you can handle it, then we can, too.”

When I opened my eyes again, all my mates had their hands on me, demanding that I share my burden.

This was something I knew no human birth could compare to. How many women could share their pain with those who genuinely wanted to help?

I hated to do it, but I knew none of them would forgive me if I tried to shoulder the responsibility all by myself.

We were a mate-circle for a reason.

Forever and always.

And this was exactly why our links existed—to help and support each other.

I relaxed my constraints, allowing the mate-bond to flow through me as the pain dispersed through the circle.

All of my mates buckled, Sol in particular making the elevator jolt as he slammed into the side. “Holy fae,” he bit out. “That’s like getting hit by a mountain.”

Vox groaned and rubbed his neck. “Fuck, Claire. You’ve been holding that in all by yourself? I’m with Cyrus. Don’t take that on alone.”

I grinned weakly, relieved as the pain lessened, much more manageable now that it was shared across the bonds.