Ethan felt the air change before the words even reached him.
A muffled voice, Harley's voice, rolled through the barrier again. Not strained. Not desperate.
Focused.
Steady.
Like she was gripping the reins of reality and pulling.
Inside the room, there was a sudden chorus of movement: Clara directing, Asteria chanting a calming spell, Elaine's gentle encouragement, Pisces humming something melodic that set the whole corridor thrumming.
The guys all straightened at once, spines snapping upright like they'd been yanked by invisible hooks.
Ethan's pulse tripled.
The doors slammed open.
This time, no one yelled at him.
"Ethan!" Clara called, hair a little messy, eyes sharp. "It's time!"
Every vein in Ethan's body immediately decided to reroute into full panic mode. He dashed forward, almost tripped again, but psychic-stabilized mid–air... then stumbled into the room with all the grace of a baby giraffe learning to walk.
The maternity room had transformed.
Warm lights.
