Death's POV
From the moment the vines start to dust away, I know exactly what is happening
I never stray too far from Afra, and I'm already in my room where her body has contorted inward, her eyes wide with pain. She's clutching the edges of the mattress, and I can hear tears as it rips in her grasp.
Afra stares at me with so much anger and life brewing in there, that for a moment, her gray tinted skin goes back to being green, and she is once the wood nymph that unintentionally captured my dead yet still beating heart.
And then she goes back to normal, and her body twitches one final time as I hold her hand, and the baby is delivered, swaddled in a thick blanket, blood, and other goop being scrubbed off of his skin.
The baby wails, finding a new home in Afra's arms, and she soothes the angry little guy, pressing tiny kisses on his small head.
