"Syd, look at me."
Nope, no looking, just breathing. I couldn't breathe, though, that was the problem, wasn't it? Air refused to go in and out of my lungs in a normal manner, my diaphragm contracting and squeezing so hard I could barely pull in air.
Which left me gasping, writhing.
"Syd." Power, usually so kind and soft, sharpened into a jab. My eyes flew open, sweat stinging instantly as I stared up at Lula. She smiled at me, gently, but her magic held me in a grip almost as tight as the pain. "You're doing fine." No panic in her voice. Good, okay then. That was good, wasn't it? So why did I feel panicked and freaked out and like I was going to explode all at the same time? "You have to relax or the baby will fight you."
Eep. Ack. Groan.
No, nugget. No fighting, please, no fighting. Just come out, okay?
Out. His little mind knew that one concept, clearly. Out. Out. Out. Out.
Hell, yeah. Prior concerns about the consequences long gone, I was with him there.