CHAPTER 147: BIRTH

Hailee’s POV

I pushed down with everything left in me, a scream tearing from my throat. And then—relief. A soft cry filled the chamber.

The midwife lifted the first pup into the lantern light. "A son," she breathed, wrapping him gently before placing him against my chest. My arms shook as I held him close, staring through tears. His hair was red like mine, his eyes blinking open—green, bright and fierce, like embers in the dark. Those were Nathan’s eyes.

"My boy," I whispered, pressing a trembling kiss to his damp forehead.

But the next labour came fast, pulling another scream out of me. I clutched Frederick’s hand, his cool grip comforting me as I pushed again. The room blurred with heat and pain until another cry split the air.

The second son. His tiny body was placed into the midwife’s arms, then lowered into mine. His hair was the same deep red as mine, soft and warm. When his eyes blinked open, they were a clear, shining sea-blue. My breath caught. Those were Callum’s eyes.

Tears slid down my cheeks as I kissed him too, my lips shaking. "Perfect... so perfect."

And then—the third. My body convulsed, weak but determined, Frederick whispering in my ear, "One more, Hailee. Just one more."

I screamed, pushed, until my chest felt like it would break. And then—the smallest, sharpest cry of all filled the room.

The midwife gasped, holding him up. His hair glistened red like fire, catching the lantern’s glow. His eyes, when they opened, were deep brown, steady and solemn even in their newborn haze.

Those were Dane’s eyes.

The healer’s hands trembled as she stepped closer, staring. "They are so unique."

I gathered all three of them into my arms, my body trembling, my tears spilling freely. Frederick leaned over, his cold hand steady on my shoulder, his eyes never leaving the faces of the babes.

Red hair, like mine.

Green eyes, like Nathan.

Sea-blue eyes, like Callum.

Brown eyes, like Dane.

Each son carried the striking resemblance of the men I loved. It was as if I was holding the young versions of them.

Frederick hovered close, silent, his hand steady on my shoulder. His eyes burned with something I couldn’t name—something softer than I’d ever seen in him.

"Frederick..." My voice was hoarse, broken from the hours of screaming, but steady enough. "Name them."

He stiffened, his gaze snapping to mine. "No." His tone was sharp, shocked. "They are not mine to name."

I shook my head, cradling the boys closer. "You are the reason they’re alive. You are the reason I am alive. If not for you..." My throat tightened, my voice breaking. "We wouldn’t be here. That’s more than enough."

His lips pressed into a hard line, his eyes narrowing like he was fighting something deep inside. "Hailee..."

"You’re their godfather," I whispered, my voice firmer now. "That’s what you are, whether you want it or not. You stood for me when no one else could. You protected me when even death came close. Please... name them."

Silence stretched between us. His chest rose and fell slowly, as if he were weighing the weight of my words. Finally, his hand brushed the crown of the first babe’s tiny red head.

"The first," he said quietly, his voice low and careful. "Oscar."

I smiled through my tears, kissing my son’s forehead. "Oscar," I repeated softly, the name fitting like it had been waiting for him all along.

Frederick’s cool fingers drifted to the second boy, whose sea-blue eyes blinked drowsily up at him. "The second," Frederick murmured, his smile widening. "Oliver."

"Oliver," I whispered, pressing my lips to his soft cheek. His tiny fingers curled against me as if claiming the name.

Frederick hesitated with the last, his hand lingering just above the babe’s chest. His voice came quieter, almost reverent. "And the third... Ozzy."

A sob caught in my throat. I gathered them tighter to me, repeating the names like a prayer. "Oscar... Oliver... Ozzy."

My sons. My heart. My everything.

Frederick stepped back then, his eyes full of pure love for them. "They are my godsons. They carry my vow... and no harm will ever touch them while I draw breath."

I smiled and mouthed. "Thank you."

Mother stepped closer, her hands trembling as she reached for the boys. "Let me take them, Hailee," she whispered, "They need to be cleaned and wrapped."

Frederick moved beside her, his tall frame careful, his cool hands steady as he helped lift each tiny body from my arms. I kissed them all once more, reluctant to let go, my heart aching even as I watched them carried across the room.

The midwives worked quickly, washing their small limbs, wrapping them in soft cloths, their cries turning into little whimpers. Frederick never left their side, his eyes sharp, protective, like a sentinel daring anyone to harm them.

Meanwhile, Mother helped me. She wiped my skin, changed the sheets beneath me, and pressed a warm cloth to my forehead. "Rest now, my child," she murmured, brushing the damp hair from my face.

The exhaustion hit me like a wave, heavier than anything I had ever felt. My eyelids fell, and before I knew it, the world went dark.

When I woke, the room was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. My body felt weak but lighter, the pain dulled. My gaze shifted, and there they were—my three sons, bundled safely in a small bed beside mine, their tiny chests rising and falling in peaceful sleep.

And then my eyes found Frederick. He sat in the chair beside me, his tall frame leaned forward, his hands folded, his eyes fixed on me. He looked tired, but when our gazes met, he gave me a genuine smile.

"You’re awake," he said quietly.

I swallowed, my throat still raw. "Yes."

He leaned back, studying me, his eyes shadowed but intent. "So... what next, Hailee?"

My heart skipped. "What do you mean?"

His gaze flicked briefly toward the babies before returning to me. "Do you intend to tell them?" His voice was calm, but firm. "Nathan. Callum. Dane. Do you intend to tell them? Do you want them to know? I can reach out to them and then we can do a DNA test to know the father."

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My gaze drifted to the small bed where my boys slept, their tiny chests rising and falling, their red hair shining faintly under the moonlight. They looked so peaceful, so untouched by the weight of the world. My throat closed.

Slowly, I shook my head. "No."

Frederick’s brows furrowed, his calm mask cracking with surprise. "No?"

Tears pricked my eyes, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. "I can’t, Frederick. Not now. Maybe not ever."

He leaned forward in the chair, his dark eyes narrowing, searching my face. "Why? You know they have the right to know."

My chest tightened painfully. "And what would that truth bring them? More chains. More pain. If they knew... if they saw these boys, they wouldn’t see children. They’d see duty. Obligation. Another reason for war."

Frederick’s jaw flexed. "Or they would see family, and besides, the children belong to only one of them."

I shook my head harder, biting down on the sob that rose in my chest. "You don’t know them the way I do. They already hate me. They think I betrayed them, that I chose someone else over them."

My voice cracked, and I pressed a hand over my mouth, trying to hold myself together. "I can’t bear it, Frederick. I can’t face that look in their eyes. The disgust. The hatred."

He was silent for a long moment. His gaze shifted briefly to the boys, then back to me. "And what about them?" His voice was low, sounding worried. "When they grow older, when they start to ask questions... what will you tell them? That they have no father? That they were born from shadows?"

The tears finally spilled down my cheeks. "I’ll tell them they were born from love," I whispered. "That’s what matters. That’s what I’ll cling to. I’ll tell them they are mine—and that’s enough. Because if the truth comes out too soon, it will destroy them before they ever get the chance to live."

Frederick leaned back, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. His face was unreadable. He was quiet for so long I thought maybe I’d silenced him. Finally, he drew a slow breath and spoke.

"Then marry me."

The words dropped into the silence like a stone. My heart lurched painfully, my whole body tensing.

"What?" My voice came out hoarse, almost a whisper.

He still has this in mind?

He leaned forward in the chair, his hands still folded, his expression unflinching. "Marry me, Hailee. Give them a father. A name. Protection." His gaze flicked briefly toward the boys before settling back on me. "They deserve that much."