“Where'd you get that? Kinks-R-Us?” Uriah guffawed snidely, gently helping Ivy sit down at her vanity so he could brush and braid her hair.
Kerrigan slanted Uriah a dirty look. “I ordered it from a very well-known sex shop. Thank you very much. Where's Mr. Holy Rollin’ Terror?”
“With Ilex and the rest of the boys.” Ivy sighed, her lashes lowering as relaxation stole over her. The soothing strokes of the brush pulled the tension out of her head and neck, leaving her swaying a little in her seat. “Apparently, Uriel was promised cake and ice cream, Rowena?”
Rowena didn't even pause in laying out all the items in her bag on the folding table she'd brought up with her, examining each one as though she hadn't already washed and sterilized everything twice.
“I told him only very good boys get cake and ice cream on birthdays, and today is a birthday, so of course, we must have cake and ice cream. I made your favorite.”
“Lemon raspberry?” Uriah asked hopefully, his shifter metabolism ensuring he never gained an ounce of fat no matter what he ate. He didn't even get sympathy pounds, which just wasn't fair at all.
Rowena shot him a playful wink then. “Only if you're a very good boy.”
Uriah grunted, his fingers deft as he twisted Ivy's hair into a long braid, not too tight, not too loose, but just right to keep it out of her face and off her neck. When he was done, he crouched down to hold her steady through her next contraction. In the middle of it, Ivy gritted her teeth, nearly snapping at him when his fingers moved to firmly rub at her cheeks.
“Don't clench your jaw, honey. It's okay to make noise.”
Ivy hissed out a laugh. “I'm sorry.”
“What for?”
“For later. When I threaten to cut your dick off with a dull spoon and tell you how much I hate you.”
Uriah flat out laughed, lowering his hands to her belly to feel her muscles contracting and clenching to get their baby pushed in the right direction. “You say whatever you need to say. I know you don't mean it.”
*****
“You know, I really didn't believe it when Rowena made me read all that stuff about second births going so much faster than the first,” Uriah murmured, his chin on her shoulder, acting as her pillow to recline on while they sat together in their bed, their baby girl with her head of strawberry blonde curls nestled on Ivy's bare chest.
She was smaller than Uriel had been, practically delicate compared to what had seemed like a monstrously large baby boy. Ivy hadn't believed it would be any easier the second time around either, and despite the hours where she was sure she wouldn't survive the pain, looking back, it hadn't been nearly as bad.
There was a crinkle of paper that momentarily drew Uriah's attention away from her, but not even his groan of disgust could pull Ivy's gaze away from staring at the new face cuddled against her breast.
“Aw... come on, seriously? Again with the stuff?”
“A placenta is not stuff!” Rowena insisted hotly. “It's gorgeous, and I'm framing this, just like I did with Uriel's.”
Ivy laughed softly, remembering Uriah's horror when Rowena pressed Uriel's placenta to a piece of butcher paper like a stamp to preserve the pattern of veins. He'd been convinced Rowena was saving it for later to make him eat it or something, and Ivy had too much fun messing with him about it.
“It's nasty!” Uriah insisted now, which only served to piss Rowena off.
Ivy's coven leader stood up with a cool sniff, showing them the lovely print she'd managed to get and pointing to it like a school teacher with an important diagram.
“Your mate's body created this, one cell at a time to feed, house, and protect your baby. It's special and deserves to be recognized as such. Shame on you.” Uriah mumbled something under his breath even Ivy couldn't catch, which made Rowena glare at him over the tops of her glasses like an irate librarian. “What was that?”
“I said, you're right. I'm an asshole.”
Rowena gave a little harrumph, carefully laying the print out to dry, and gathered up the last of the soiled towels, sailing from the room with her nose in the air.
Ivy sighed sleepily, ready for a nice long nap. Uriah kissed her cheek, reaching out to let his fingertips play in the baby's hair with a deep, satisfying rumble.
“I have a confession to make,” he said.
“About being an asshole?”
He chuckled thickly, settling lower against the headboard so Ivy had more room to recline, and held both her and their baby girl in the circle of his arms. “No. Well, maybe you'll think that in a minute when I tell you, this little one doesn't look like an Uma.”
Ivy hummed in agreement, tracing the elegant arch of the baby's red-gold eyebrows, following the upturned tip of her tiny nose. “She doesn't, does she?”
“Hu-uh. Got a backup?”
“No. You?”
“Unless you're dead set on her name starting with a U, how do you feel about, Iona?” Uriah said the name in his deep, husky voice, and up popped the baby's spiky red lashes.
She blinked and frowned, her little rosebud lips pursing, her fingers wrapping around her daddy's finger, and as soon as she got a good grip, her frown eased into what looked like a smile.
“Yep. That's the one,” Ivy agreed, fascinated by Iona's hazel eyes. “Hello, Iona.”
“Mama! You done makin’ me a sisser yet? I want cake!” Uriel's bellow was loud enough to rattle the windows, and Iona looked put out by the rude interruption of examining her parents.
Ivy's shoulders shook with restrained laughter. “That's your big brother. You probably recognize the shouting, huh?”
Iona smacked her lips together in answer.
“Uriel, what did I say?” Ilex's strong, much quieter voice could still be heard through the half-open door.
As could Uriel's deeply aggrieved sigh. “That I should be quiet in case Mommy's seepin’. Like I'm stalkin’ bunnies for dinner with Papa. Papa says you don't eat bunnies or anything wiv a face. Why not, unka?”
“Because I don't particularly care for the taste of blood. Where are your aunts?”
“Playin’ with somethin’ bloody out in the yard.”
“Blessed Mab,” Ilex swore. “Again?”
Ivy lost the battle with keeping her laughter to herself, and once she let loose, so did Uriah. Uriel's pounding footsteps thundered up the stairs, followed by more cursing on Ilex's part, but he didn't make it in time to catch Uriel before he came busting through the bedroom door.
Covered in some kind of berry juice, Uriel stood at the foot of the bed with an expression that could only be one of horrified shock. He drilled a chubby finger their way. “What the truck is that?”
Ivy turned her head far enough to glare at Uriah, knowing he and his work crew were responsible for teaching their son substitute curse words. Uriah didn't so much as flinch, urging his clone forward with a wave of his big hand. “C'mere, you.”
Uriel immediately clambered up on the bed, crawling hand and foot up to snuggle into the open arm waiting for him. He stared at his sister with a deeply curious frown. “Is that a sisser?”