Neither one of them answered.
Cyrus looked at her face and hated himself a little more, because she was looking at him with confusion and trust at the same time. She did not know the full reason for his fear. She only knew she felt weak and strange and now had two males hovering over her like she might crack apart if she breathed the wrong way.
So he reached for her hand and held it tightly.
Too tightly at first.
Then he eased his grip when he realized it.
"Nothing is wrong," he said.
Zyran's eyes flicked toward him at once.
That was clearly a lie.
Cyrus knew it too.
But how was he supposed to explain anything now? How was he supposed to tell her that the blood inside the babies had become too strong to keep hidden? How was he supposed to look her in the eyes and speak of demon blood, old fear, and the possibility of her giving birth much sooner than she should?
No.
Not yet.
So he bent closer and said more softly, "You're just closer than we thought."
