Nova Peak my arms are open

lorcan presses closer, his nose buried against elowen’s brow. her pain is his own, a fire in his chest he cannot put out.
breathe, little dove. his voice is low. his heart hammers like a war drum. too soon. too soon.
ayovi works quickly, hands deft, words calm. he clings to them, even as fear gnaws at his ribs.
i’m here. he whispers, pressing a kiss to her temple. her body trembles beneath him, fragile yet fierce.
the babies are coming.
he swallows hard, golden eyes flicking to ayovi. they’ll survive? a demand. a plea. then, panic: should i go? he does not want to cramp their space.