Mori’s mate was in her den. She was struggling to get around; the pregnancy had taken a lot out of her even though she estimated it was only two or three pups. She was gaunt and sickly, even though she had been drinking and eating for the sake of the children. Rayne’s eyes were often hollow. She didn’t tell anyone, but she suspected that these were her last few months of life.
She was also way overdue on delivery. She was able to eat a little bit more than before, however. She ate as much as she dared; her appetite was horrible these days. She remembered Beartooth’s advice, but if she ate too much she would feel absolutely horrific. Water was no problem. She was well-hydrated; the problem lay with her inability to eat a healthy amount. She sometimes wondered if it was her broken wing. But that couldn’t be.
When her water broke, she screamed, “Mori!” At this point she was tired and wanted to sleep.

fade in, fade out

Whether or not Mori was there, Rayne was exhausted, and whispered, “Nikolai. Baladan . . .” She felt her blood pooling around her, knew that it was too much. “Take care of them. Don’t let them die, protect them,” she wheezed, eyes filling. She was faint, tired . . . and she let the light wash her away.

“I’M DONE RUNNING FROM YOU”