A Royal Rebellion (19 page)

Edward stared at him, shocked. Even Lord Lucius was startled. Percy ignored the noble in favor of his prince. “Don’t you dare think you could have stopped this, or prevented it! This is all on King Henry’s shoulders, and none of this is your fault!”

Percy was panting, and he struggled to sit up more, and he ignored the sharp twinge in his hips and back. Edward hurried to his side, hands outstretched to help him. Percy got to his feet, swaying, and Edward gathered him close.

“Don’t you dare take any more guilt or grief on that isn’t yours to begin with,” Percy hissed at his prince, who gave him a thorough, searching glance, and nodded once. Edward appeared sheepish, and he gave Percy a small smile, the vulnerability in that tiny moment enough to cool his annoyance. Percy frowned, but he nodded back, pleased. “Good. Now help me to the bathroom, I need to pee.”

Edward chuckled, “Yes, my love.”

Edward made Percy’s heart hurt in the most delicious way when he swept him up into his arms, Percy’s greater weight nothing to the strength of his mate. Percy hugged him around his neck and kissed his cheek, and Edward carried him to the bathroom to pee for what felt like the millionth time.

***

Edward

Edward waited patiently outside the bathroom in the hall, watching as the sun set behind the forest he could see through the ceiling high windows lining the hallway. The lamps scattered about the gardens came on in seconds, and Edward could see Lord Lucius’ black-clad guards patrolling in the lights. Percy was in the bathroom, and he could hear his little mate muttering as he went about his business.

Pregnancy may not make Percy comfortable, but it was doing something for his personality. Percy still wasn’t the most talkative of people, preferring silence and a watchful attitude to in depth conversation, but he was coming out of his shell by leaps and bounds. If his new-found courage and the lessening in his crippling shyness was a result of his pregnancy and evaporated after the babe’s birth Edward would be fine with it, but part of him wished for his mate’s sake that some of it would remain. Percy spent too much of his life before Edward afraid and nervous; Edward would see his mate embrace his courage and enjoy life to the fullest.

Edward frowned when he heard nothing from the bathroom. Usually Percy would call him back when he was done so he could help him from the bathroom. Edward walked to the door and knocked, “Little one? Percy?”

Silence. “Percy!”

“Edward…” at that tentative call, Edward slammed through the door, and went to the stall. He opened it, and saw Percy standing, leaning against the inner wall.

“What’s wrong, little one?” Edward asked, reaching for Percy, his robe askew and falling from a shoulder, revealing Percy’s gravid and naked body underneath.

Edward grabbed the robe, and his hand came away wet. The robe was soaked in a clear, viscous fluid, and he was about to ask what it was when realization hit. He stopped, staring, and a heavy, musky aroma filled his senses. Percy whimpered, and Edward watched in awe and terror as his mate’s abdomen rippled.

A contraction. Percy was in labor.

Chapter Twelve

Percy

The pain wasn’t too bad. It forced its way across his abdomen and hips, and his lower back ached horribly, but it wasn’t too much to bear.

The shock on Edward’s face was scary, though. “Edward!”

Edward jerked, and came back to himself. One arm went around Percy under his arms, and Edward picked him up and lifted him from the stall, and the unfortunate puddle he left when his body decided to flush his rectum in preparation for birth. It had been startling, and uncomfortable, but the rapid displacement of waste from his rectum and the clear, clean fluid that followed in the second wave told Percy that these were no false contractions—he was in labor.

Edward let him lean against the sink, arm still holding him upright, and with his free hand his prince pulled out his cell and dialed.

“Answer, c’mon, answer dammit…” Edward muttered, and Percy could hear it ring and ring. It clicked over to voicemail, and Edward growled in frustration but left a message. “Percy is in labor. Get back here, and now!”

Pain made Percy gasp, grasping at Edward. He felt lightheaded, and his wavered on his feet. “Percy!”

Edward picked him up in his arms, and Percy moaned, feeling nauseous. “I don’t like this so much, Edward.”

“Me neither. Let’s get you in bed, okay?” Edward said, walking them out of the bathroom and down the hall.

Edward’s long strides carried them past the room they were just in, and Lord Lucius saw them as they passed. “Prince Edward!”

“No time, Lucius!” Edward called over his shoulder. The noble appeared in the door behind them, and followed at a fast walk.

Another contraction was coming. It built, tightening, moving his insides around, and the baby woke in a flurry of movement. “Oh! She doesn’t like it much either.”

Edward took the stairs, the stone steps echoing as Edward climbed, sure-footed despite the panic Percy could see hovering in his eyes. “She, huh? So you agree with Mason?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Percy said, gasping as his body tried to twist itself out of Edward’s arms. Edward tightened his grip, making the second floor and walking them down the hall to their room. Lord Lucius had caught up, and was on his cell, presumably talking to his few, actual servants. Lord Lucius had a housekeeper, a small army of maids, a single stable master after the unfortunate removal of the first one, and a dozen trained and lethal guards, and not counting the small harem of pleasure slaves he kept.

“I like the idea of a little girl,” Percy said, one hand on his abdomen. The muscles under his hand were rippling, in a wholly unconscious manner that left him disturbed and excited. His body was moving ahead with the birth regardless of whether or not Percy was ready. That thought scared him and reassured him simultaneously.

“A healthy baby and a healthy consort are all I want right now,” Edward said, sweeping into their room and heading for the king-sized bed.

A burst of activity behind them made Percy look up, and a handful of maids came in the room, carrying fresh linens and blankets. Edward stepped back as they remade the bed, pulling back the blankets and piling pillows high. Edward laid him down, sitting up, and removed the soaked robe from his shoulders. Percy grimaced, and he realized another small flood of fluid had dampened the fabric. Edward saw his problem, and sat on the side of the bed, a clean washcloth in his hand. Percy suffered through his mate cleaning him, and his face burned.

Edward pulled a sheet high over his belly, and Percy clutched it, glad to be hidden from the curious eyes of the maids. Edward waved a hand, and they fled just as fast as they appeared.

“How are you feeling?” Edward asked him, rubbing a hand over his belly.

“The contractions are far apart, and don’t hurt too badly,” Percy said, even as he could feel his belly tighten for another round. “I need a towel under me, Edward, please.”

Edward was quick to comply, slipping a thick, fluffy towel under his ass. Percy shifted, and he found himself wishing he could stand. This was too stifling, laying back. “What do you need, Percy?”

“I want to…help me up,” Percy sobbed, sweating, a contraction tackling him. He cried out, gasping for air, the immense tightening of muscles in his core startling and inescapable. “Edward, this is going to be fast and I don’t know what I’m doing!”

Percy rolled to his side, and Edward was there, helping him to his knees. Percy knelt on the bed, knees wide, the towel under him. Fluid dripped in an increasing stream from his ass, and he could feel himself opening, stretching. “Edward!”

A contraction made him arch his back, screaming. He had no strength in his legs, and Edward tried to pull him flat to his back. Percy fought him, and Edward relented, helping Percy stay up on his knees on the bed. For some reason his body wanted to be upright. He wasn’t going to be birthing this babe flat on his back like a female breeder. The sheet pooled on the bed, and Percy was left naked and bare, but his body’s single-minded determination to give birth made him forget about being embarrassed.

“Percy? Dear God, Mason and Reynard need to hurry up!”

“I need you to…Edward, you’re going to be delivering our baby.” Percy was breathing through the waves of pain, slumping as the contraction eased its grip on his body. “They aren’t going to make it.”

“I tried calling them as well,” Lord Lucius said, standing politely in the doorway, the usually reserved and sarcastic noble appearing hesitant, nervous. “I got no reply. Should I call for my doctor, Prince Edward?”

“Percy? Up to you. I’ve delivered horses before, but I have no idea how to deliver a human baby. I’m sure the mechanics are similar…” Edward asked him, as Percy held on to Edward, his prince holding him upright.

Another wave was coming. Hot fluid poured from his ass. It was thick, so it wasn’t blood, and Percy’s eyes went wide as he felt his insides opening, dilating. It was extremely disturbing and enlightening. His body was moving ahead with the birth, and Percy’s nerves be damned. Percy clawed at Edward’s arms, lifting himself up higher on his knees, the inside of his thighs soaking wet.

Edward was saying something to Lord Lucius, but Percy was past hearing anything but his body’s demands. Soon. So very soon, he would be holding his babe.

Percy’s eyes shut against a strong wave of pain, and he cried out, jaw aching from clenching his teeth. The wave came and crested, holding for heartbeats, then eased. Percy tried pushing with it, but nothing happened. Too soon to push yet, and he relaxed.

He opened his eyes, just in time for the lights to go out.

Glass shattered nearby, and Edward went still beside him.

“What the devil is going on…?” Lord Lucius said at the doorway, and Percy watched as the noble turned to the hall. There was still enough light in the deepening twilight to see, the moon rising, its glow dim but filling the hall.

A shadow coalesced in the deeper darkness of the hall, solid black and tall. Percy cried out in alarm as the shadow moved, and Lord Lucius fell to the floor. “Edward!”

***

Edward

His heart stopped when the lights went out. Before he even heard the glass shatter down the hall, he knew.

His father had found them, and they were out of time.

Lucius fell, crumpled to the floor. Edward threw himself in front of Percy as the shadow at the door raised an arm, the gun firing. Flashes from the muzzle illuminated a man covered in black from head to toes, a semi-automatic weapon aimed right for him.

The nanosecond it took him to understand the gun was aimed at him, and not Percy, was all it took for Percy to see the same. His mate screamed, and lurched to the side, pushing Edward back. The gun fired, three shots, the whole of the world slowed in a horrible tableau. The bullets ripped through the air between them, and Edward’s heart stopped when he saw Percy jerk.

A swath of red bloomed in his side, and Percy stared up at him, ice-blue eyes wide in fear and pain. Edward caught Percy as he toppled to the bed, laying him on his side. Movement in the doorway made him look, and the gunman walked in the room, stepping over Lucius where he lay on the floor.

Rage unlike anything he’d ever felt swept over him. Edward screamed, and sprang to his feet. He charged the armed man, who wasn’t expecting it at all by the way he fumbled to aim at Edward. Edward poured his fear and horror into his rush, and he tackled the gunman, crashing them back out into the hall.

They smashed into the far wall, glass breaking, the window behind the gunman shattering, great showering lengths of razor-sharp shards cascading down on top of them. Edward wrapped his hands around the weapon, even as it fired wildly, shooting into the ceiling. Pain exploded along his shoulders and back, and Edward rolled away from the still falling glass.

Screams and shouting filled the hall. The gunman, clothing ripped by glass and covered in blood, roared in anger and towered above Edward, the gun missing but a long shard of glass in his hand. Edward kicked out, and hit the man square in the chest, arm raised to stab him where he lay on the floor. The man flew backward, and Edward scrambled to his feet.

They faced each other in the darkness, the shifting clouds in the sky hiding the rising moon, taking and giving away light as they circled. Edward fell into a defensive crouch, so very glad he had asked Reynard for lessons. He was no expert, and still lost to the captain every time, but by the Saints, he was going to save Percy and their babe if it was the last thing he did.

The man lunged, stabbing ahead with the blade of glass. Edward stepped forward, dodging the blow, and caught the man’s wrist, and brought his other hand down and smacked his opponent’s elbow. A pop, and the glass fell to the floor. The man screamed, but swung again with his other arm. Edward stepped forward again, and sent his knee up, slamming it into the other man’s groin. The man’s blow landed, but Edward was all instinct and thought was gone—he attacked with total purpose, to protect his mate.

Edward kept moving, pushing ahead, fist smashing into the cloth covered face, and he kicked the man backwards with a blow to his stomach. The man stumbled back, arms flailing, and Edward was about to follow when another shadow moved behind his opponent.