Ready or Not
Series: Ours to Claim
Pairing: Raven × Elias “Stack” × Elijah “Smoke”
Summary: Raven’s due date is getting closer, the nursery is almost ready, and the house is overflowing with pillows, baby books, snacks, and nervous excitement. Between overprotective rules, name debates, and last-minute nesting chaos, Raven, Stack, and Elijah try to enjoy one more quiet day before everything changes.
Warnings: pregnancy, polyamorous relationship, domestic fluff, nervous new dads, mild panic, strong language, family intimacy, soft chaos, and overwhelming parenthood emotions.
The morning arrived quietly, easing into the house through the thin slivers of sunlight peeking around the heavy curtains. The morning light stretched lazily across the dark hardwood floors, climbing the polished legs of the coffee table before settling over what had once been their living room. Now, it belonged almost entirely to Raven.
The couch had long since become decoration. Somewhere over the last few weeks, Elias and Elijah had quietly surrendered the room to her without ever saying the words aloud. It had happened one extra pillow at a time. Another blanket, another body pillow, another snack basket, another charger stretched across the floor until there was barely any evidence the room had once been arranged differently. The transformation had been so gradual that Raven hadn't fully realized how completely they'd given her the space until she woke up one morning surrounded by her things and realized their belongings had migrated to other rooms.
Right in the middle of it all sat what Stack proudly called Raven's Nest.
It wasn't really a nest anymore.
It was a fortress.
A queen-sized pallet covered nearly the entire center of the room, layered with thick comforters and soft quilts, making it look more like a luxury cloud than a place where a person should reasonably sleep. Seven oversized pillows surrounded her in a loose circle, each serving a different purpose that only Raven seemed capable of remembering. One supported her back, another rested beneath her knees, two more cradled either side of her stomach whenever she rolled over, and the remaining pillows existed simply because Stack insisted she "might need 'em."
Three blankets were scattered across the pallet despite it being warm inside the house. Raven had insisted on keeping them nearby even in July, explaining that her body temperature ran hotter than ever now, but she still got chilled easily. The twins had stopped questioning her peculiar pregnancy requests weeks ago, simply nodding and fulfilling whatever strange craving or comfort measure she requested.
A woven basket overflowed with pregnancy snacks. Granola bars, fruit gummies, dried mango slices, peanut butter crackers, applesauce pouches, and the family-sized bag of spicy chips she'd been obsessed with for the last month were all within arm's reach. The chips were a particular obsession – something about the combination of heat and crunch seemed to satisfy some deep primal craving that had emerged around month six.
Several bottles of water stood like little soldiers beside the pallet, each one opened to a different level because, according to Elijah, hydration was now everyone's full-time job. He'd read somewhere that dehydration could trigger early labor, and now he monitored her water intake with the intensity of a scientist conducting a critical experiment.
Baby name books lay open across the blankets, pages marked with colorful sticky notes sticking out in every direction. Raven had been methodically going through name options for weeks, crossing out possibilities, adding new ones, and occasionally waking up in the middle of the night with a sudden inspiration that had to be written down immediately.
A tablet rested face down beside her, its screen dark but ready to provide distraction during the sleepless nights when pregnancy insomnia kept her awake while the rest of the house slept.
Three phone chargers somehow managed to tangle themselves together despite never moving, a mystery of physics that Raven had given up trying to solve.
Raven lay comfortably in the middle of the organized chaos, one hand resting beneath her head while the other absently rubbed slow circles over the enormous curve of her stomach. Her dark skin seemed to glow in the morning light, stretched tight over the life growing within. At thirty-seven weeks, she was enormous – carrying quadruplets would do that to anyone – but somehow she still found herself beautiful when she caught her reflection in the mirror. Her face was fuller, her breasts heavy and dark, and there was a certain power in knowing she was creating life, four lives, all at once.
Thirty-seven weeks.
She could still hardly believe it.
The babies shifted beneath her skin with sleepy little movements that rippled visibly beneath her oversized T-shirt – one of Stack's that barely covered her stomach now. One tiny foot—or maybe a knee—pressed firmly against her side before disappearing again, earning a quiet smile. The movements had become more deliberate lately, less random fluttering and more purposeful shifting, as if they were getting ready for their grand entrance.
"Good morning to y'all too," she murmured, rubbing the spot affectionately. "No karate practice today, please. Mommy's got enough going on."
Across the room, tucked neatly into the corner nearest the fireplace, sat a large unopened cardboard box with "Birth Pool in a Box" printed across the side in bold blue letters. It had been delivered almost two weeks earlier, and Stack had wanted to inflate it the same day. Elijah had talked him out of it after reminding him they still needed somewhere to walk through the living room. Even so, the unopened box had become a quiet reminder that everything was getting very real.
Every time Raven looked at it, she found herself imagining what the room would look like soon. The birth pool inflated near the windows, soft music playing, the lights turned low, the nursery upstairs waiting, four newborn cries filling the house for the first time. The thought made her chest tighten in the best possible way – equal parts excitement and terror, but mostly excitement.
From somewhere upstairs came the muffled sound of a drill, followed by Stack's voice shouting, "Babe!"
Raven smiled before he even finished the sentence. She knew this routine by heart.
"What?" she called back, her voice carrying easily in the quiet morning.
"Don't move!"
She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, a gesture she knew he couldn't see but felt necessary anyway. "I'm literally laying down."
"Good!"
Another burst of drilling echoed overhead, followed by what sounded like something heavy being dropped.
The nursery had become the twins' latest obsession. For the last week, they'd practically moved upstairs, refusing to let Raven help with anything heavier than folding tiny socks. Every morning started exactly the same – Stack found another project, Elijah quietly fixed whatever Stack accidentally measured wrong, then they both came downstairs every twenty minutes to check on Raven as if she'd somehow forgotten how to exist without supervision.
As if summoned by her thoughts, heavy footsteps thundered down the staircase. Elias rounded the corner carrying an empty cardboard box under one arm, his fresh fade still perfectly crisp despite already working all morning. His T-shirt clung lightly across his broad shoulders, a few flecks of sawdust dusting the front. He stopped the moment he saw Raven beginning to shift against the mountain of pillows, his expression immediately shifting to one of concern.
She planted both hands beside herself, preparing to push up. At this point in her pregnancy, even simple movements required strategic planning and execution.
Pushed once.
Then again.
The second her hips lifted off the pallet—
"Sit down."
She looked up slowly, her eyes meeting his. "Elias."
"What?"
"I'm literally getting water."
"Water can wait."
She stared at him, not breaking eye contact. "No, it can't."
"It absolutely can."
"I'm thirsty."
"I'll survive."
"I'm not talking about you."
Before Stack could answer, Elijah appeared behind him, carrying a small toolbox tucked beneath one arm. His shirt sleeves were rolled to his forearms, revealing muscular arms dusted with sawdust, and a pencil was tucked behind one ear. His expression was calmer than Stack's, but no less concerned.
"I'll get it," he said simply, already moving toward the kitchen.
Raven threw both hands into the air in frustration. "I have two perfectly good legs."
"And four babies," Elijah reminded her, disappearing into the kitchen.
"They're still inside!"
"Exactly!"
She huffed dramatically before easing herself back against the mountain of pillows, the movement requiring more effort than she wanted to admit. "Y'all are treating me like glass."
Stack shook his head immediately, setting down the box and moving closer to her pallet. "No."
He paused just long enough for Raven to narrow her eyes.
"...Like expensive china."
The pillow left Raven's hands before she consciously decided to throw it. It flew through the air with surprising accuracy for someone her size.
Stack caught it cleanly against his chest with a grin that spread from ear to ear, showing off his perfect white teeth against his dark skin. "There she is," he laughed. "Aim's still good."
"Oh, you're hilarious."
"I know."
Elijah returned a moment later with one of the already-opened water bottles, unscrewed the cap for her without saying a word, and placed it gently into her hand. His fingers brushed against hers, warm and calloused from his work.
She accepted it with exaggerated annoyance. "I could've done that."
"I know," Elijah said, smiling as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. His lips were warm against her skin.
Raven looked from Elijah to Stack, then around the living room that no longer looked anything like it had months ago. To the birth pool box waiting patiently in the corner. To the baby books scattered across the blankets. To the tiny pair of newborn socks someone had accidentally left on the coffee table. To the two men who had turned the house upside down, making sure she never had to lift more than a bottle of water.
The nursery upstairs was almost finished. Only a few finishing touches remained. Downstairs, though, surrounded by pillows, laughter, and the quiet certainty that she was deeply loved, Raven realized something that made her smile to herself.
The house wasn't waiting for the babies anymore.
It was already becoming their home.
"Are you hungry?" Stack asked, already moving toward the kitchen without waiting for an answer. "I can make those pancakes you like."
"The ones with blueberries?" Raven called after him.
"And chocolate chips," he confirmed from the kitchen. "And whipped cream. And that maple syrup you like."
Elijah sat down on the edge of her pallet, careful not to disturb her arrangement of pillows. He reached out and placed his hand against her stomach, feeling the babies shift beneath his touch. "How are they today?"
"Active," she said, covering his hand with hers. "They had a party around 3 AM. I don't think I slept more than an hour straight."
"Did you try the music?" Elijah asked, his thumb stroking circles over her skin.
"Yeah, it helped for a little while," she said. "Then they decided the lullabies were boring and started doing gymnastics again."
Stack returned from the kitchen with a plate of pancakes that smelled heavenly, topped with exactly what he'd promised. He set it down on the low table beside her pallet along with a fork and napkin.
"You didn't make any for yourself?" Raven asked, already reaching for a piece.
"I'll eat after you," Stack said, sitting on her other side. "Make sure it's good first."
Raven took a bite and closed her eyes in pleasure. "It's perfect," she said around a mouthful of pancake. "As always."
The three of them sat there for a while, Raven eating while the twins watched her with identical expressions of contentment. Sometimes it still amazed her how two people could be so different in personality yet so similar in their devotion to her. Stack was loud and expressive, his love showing in grand gestures and constant attention. Elijah was quieter, his love manifesting in thoughtful gestures and unwavering support. Together, they created a balance that had become her foundation.
When she finished eating, Stack took the plate without being asked and disappeared into the kitchen again. Elijah stayed, his hand still resting on her stomach.
They continued like that for a while, the three of them laughing and talking about the future, occasionally stopping when one of the babies made a particularly strong movement that could be felt by all of them. Outside, the sun climbed higher in the sky, filling the room with warmth and light. The birth pool box seemed to glow in the corner, a silent promise of the changes to come.
Later that afternoon, when the twins went back upstairs to finish the nursery, Raven lay in her nest, surrounded by the evidence of their love. She closed her eyes and placed both hands on her stomach, feeling the four lives moving within her. The house was quiet now, except for the distant sounds of construction overhead and the soft beating of her own heart.
In a few weeks – maybe less – the living room would be transformed again. The birth pool would be inflated, the pillows rearranged to accommodate not just her but the midwives and doulas who would help her through labor. The snacks would be replaced with healing foods for the postpartum period. The baby name books would be put away, their purpose served.
But for now, Raven rested in the center of her fortress, surrounded by love, and felt gratitude so profound it brought tears to her eyes. She had never expected this life, never imagined she could be so happy, so fulfilled, so completely at peace. The babies shifted inside her, a gentle reminder that everything was about to change again.
And she couldn't wait.
The smell of fresh sawdust lingered throughout the upstairs hallway, a scent that had become the unofficial perfume of their home for the past month. It clung to the walls, mixing with the faint, clean scent of baby detergent drifting from the nursery where freshly washed blankets, swaddles, and impossibly tiny onesies had already found their place inside neatly organized drawers. The rhythmic scrape of wooden drawers opening and closing echoed softly through the room as Elijah checked each one for what felt like the hundredth time that morning.
"Top drawer is diapers," he murmured mostly to himself, his dark fingers tracing the neat stacks. "Second is sleepers. Third is swaddles. Fourth is socks, sorted by color and size."
Stack leaned against one of the finished cribs with his arms folded across his chest, watching Elijah reorganize a drawer that already looked perfect. The crib creaked slightly under his weight, a sound that made them both smile. These cribs, solid as oaks, would hopefully withstand four babies over the next couple of years.
"You've folded them three times," Stack said, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room. "They're not getting any more folded than they already are."
"They weren't right," Elijah replied without looking up, adjusting the sleeve of a tiny blue sleeper. "The seams weren't facing outward."
"They looked right."
"They looked acceptable," Elijah corrected, finally sliding the drawer shut with quiet satisfaction before looking around the nursery one more time.
Stack snorted. "See… this is why I don't let you organize the pantry. We'd have cans facing north-south by the time you were done."
"You don't let me?" Elijah raised an eyebrow, turning to face his twin brother.
"You heard what I said," Stack grinned.
Elijah simply smiled, a gesture that always seemed to soften his features. The nursery was almost finished. The walls, painted a warm cream weeks earlier, glowed beneath the morning sunlight spilling through the large window. Four matching cribs stood proudly along opposite walls, each one already dressed with fitted sheets and waiting for the tiny people they'd soon hold. Above them, wooden shelves displayed children's books, stuffed animals, and framed ultrasound pictures that seemed almost unreal now—four tiny beings floating in black and white space, already so real to them.
The rocking chair sat beside the window with a folded knit blanket draped over one arm, a gift from Raven's mother. A small basket of diapers rested beside it, fully stocked. The changing table was organized with military precision—everything within arm's reach but nothing cluttered. The nightlight had already been tested three separate times because Stack insisted every brightness setting felt "different" and wanted to make sure they had options for late-night diaper changes.
Now only the smallest details remained. A few decorative baskets. The mobiles that would hang above each crib. A picture frame waiting for four newborn footprints. And four names.
The twins looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them as it so often did. After all these years, they could communicate volumes with just a glance.
Almost simultaneously, they spoke.
"…Let's go ask Mama."
Downstairs, Raven had abandoned the couch entirely. She now sat in the middle of her pallet, surrounded by what looked less like a collection of baby books and more like the aftermath of an academic research project. Her dark hair was pulled back in a loose bun. The oversized T-shirt she wore—one of Stack's—was stretched over her enormous belly, the fabric thinning in places as if threatening to give up the ghost entirely.
Name books lay open in every direction, pages marked with colorful sticky notes. Loose notebook paper covered in crossed-out names was scattered around her like autumn leaves. Colored pens, highlighters, and more sticky notes formed a chaotic rainbow around her. At the center of it all sat a yellow legal pad with columns labeled Boy One, Boy Two, Boy Three, and Baby Girl. Half the pages had little hearts beside names she'd liked yesterday and aggressively crossed out sometime during the night when pregnancy insomnia had struck with a vengeance.
Pregnancy had made naming four children feel like negotiating an international peace treaty, with Raven as the exhausted mediator between two very opinionated superpowers.
She looked up just as the twins appeared at the bottom of the stairs, their faces hopeful and expectant. "There y'all are," she said, attempting to shift to a more comfortable position and failing miserably.
Stack looked down at the explosion of paper surrounding her. "…Looks like the IRS came and did an audit on your imagination."
Raven picked up the nearest baby book, brandishing it like a weapon. "I'll throw this."
"You probably should," he nodded seriously. "Might improve your aim."
"I definitely will," she grumbled, though they all knew she wouldn't.
Elijah laughed quietly before lowering himself beside her on the pallet, taking care not to disturb her carefully arranged chaos. "You ready?"
She sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her stomach where one of the babies was currently practicing what felt like martial arts. "As ready as I'll ever be. Which is to say, not ready at all, but we're doing it anyway."
Stack plopped down on the opposite side, immediately grabbing one of the books and flipping through pages with purpose. "Alright," he rubbed his hands together. "Today…" He paused for effect. "…we finish this."
Raven laughed, the sound warm and familiar in their living room. "You've been saying that for three weeks."
"This time I mean it," he insisted, his expression earnest.
"You said that last Tuesday."
"I was emotionally unprepared," Stack explained. "Naming is a sacred responsibility. It requires proper mental preparation."
Elijah reached for the legal pad, reading over the current list. "So…" He uncapped a pen. "What do we have?"
Raven pointed toward the top of the page. "Blaze." She smiled, her fingers tracing the letters. "I still love Blaze."
Stack grinned proudly. "Knew you would. Strong name. Fire element. Can't go wrong with fire."
Elijah nodded. "Blaze stays." He drew a perfect circle around the name, his handwriting neat and precise. "Onyx."
Raven's smile softened. "That one's always felt right."
"It has," Elijah agreed, circling it as well. "Deep. Solid. Beautiful."
Two names.
Two tiny people already had identities waiting for them.
The room fell comfortably quiet for a moment, the weight of their decisions settling around them like a warm blanket.
Then Stack cleared his throat dramatically. "I'd like to formally nominate…"
Raven groaned before he even finished. "No."
"…Storm."
"No."
"…Thunder."
"No."
"…Rain."
"No."
"…Hurricane."
Raven stared.
Elijah blinked once. "…Hurricane?"
"What?" Stack looked between them, confused by their reactions. "You serious?"
"You're brainstorming," Elijah said slowly. "You need to stop."
"They're strong names," Stack insisted. "Powerful. Memorable."
"They're natural disasters," Elijah corrected. "We're naming children, not weather patterns."
"They're memorable," Stack repeated.
"They're evacuation orders," Elijah replied flatly.
Raven laughed so hard she had to hold her stomach, the movement causing the babies to shift inside her. "Oh, my God."
"They're gonna love it," Stack continued, warming to his theme. "Imagine the roll call on the first day of school. 'Blaze, Onyx, Khalil, and Hurricane!' No one's gonna forget them."
"They're gonna resent you," Elijah replied. "And possibly us by association."
Stack pointed toward Blaze. "Tell me Blaze and Storm don't sound hard."
"They sound like an energy drink," Elijah said without missing a beat.
"Blaze and Thunder?"
"A monster truck rally."
"Onyx and Rain?"
"A luxury candle collection."
Raven buried her face in one of the pillows, laughing until tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.
Once the laughter finally settled, Elijah reached for another notebook. "Let's actually do this." He drew four neat columns. "No interruptions."
Stack raised one finger. "I object."
"Denied."
"We're voting now?"
"We've always been voting."
"I thought I had executive authority." Stack looked genuinely confused.
"You've never had executive authority," Elijah explained patiently.
Raven watched them bicker back and forth, smiling to herself. This had become their rhythm over the past months. Stack throwing ideas into the air just to see what stuck. Elijah quietly grounding every conversation before it spiraled too far. And her… somewhere in the middle, exactly where she belonged.
For the next hour, names filled the page. Amari. Micah. Noah. Sage. Ezra. Zion. Raine. Kairo. Miles. Julian. One by one they were discussed, circled, questioned, crossed out, rewritten. Every name came with a story. Someone they'd known. Someone they'd admired. A meaning they liked. A sound they didn't. Stack vetoed anything that sounded "too soft," while Elijah rejected names that were "too trendy." Raven served as the tie-breaker, her intuition guiding them toward names that felt right.
Eventually, only one boy's name remained untouched. Khalil.
Raven looked at it, her finger tracing the letters. "So…" She glanced between both men. "I think that's him."
Stack nodded before Elijah even answered. "It feels like him."
Without another word, Raven drew one slow circle around Khalil. Three names. Blaze. Onyx. Khalil. Only one space remained on the page. Baby Girl.
Silence settled over the living room, heavier this time. Naming their daughter felt different—more final somehow.
Stack looked at Raven. "So…" He smiled hopefully. "…Rain?"
Raven threw a sticky note at him. He caught it with reflexes that still surprised her sometimes. "I had to try."
Elijah shook his head, laughing. "You are nothing if not committed."
"I've been committed for months," Stack replied. "Emotionally, mentally, and now financially to these tiny humans."
"You've been delusional for months."
"That's rude."
"It's accurate."
The laughter slowly faded again. Raven lowered her eyes to the blank space beneath Baby Girl. She didn't speak. She simply picked up her pen. The room grew unexpectedly still. Neither twin interrupted. Neither asked what she was thinking. The only sound was the quiet scratch of ink against paper.
Slowly…
Carefully…
She wrote one name.
Shiloh.
She stared at it for several seconds, testing the sound of it in her mind. Then quietly slid the notebook toward them.
Neither man spoke immediately.
Elias looked at the name. Then at Elijah. Elijah looked back at him. Both of them smiled at exactly the same time. Not because they had finally settled the debate. Because something about it felt unmistakable. It didn't need explaining. It didn't need defending. It simply belonged.
Stack reached over and rested his hand on top of Raven's. "I think…" His voice was quieter than it had been all morning. "…that's our little girl."
Elijah nodded, his eyes lingering on the name one last time before drawing a careful circle around it. No arguments. No debate. No vote. Just certainty.
For the first time in months, every space on the page was filled.
Blaze.
Onyx.
Khalil.
Shiloh.
Raven rested both hands over her stomach, smiling as four tiny kicks answered from within, almost as if the babies had been listening all along and approved of their choices.
Stack's eyes widened. "You think they approve?"
Raven laughed softly. "I think they were tired of waiting on us to make up our minds."
Elijah leaned over and kissed her forehead before looking back down at the page. Four names. Four babies. For the first time, they weren't talking about the babies anymore. They were talking about Blaze, Onyx, Khalil, and Shiloh.
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the living room, bathing Raven's fortress in a warm, golden light that made everything seem softer, more dreamlike. The smell of pancakes still lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of the wood polish Stack had used on the nursery furniture that morning. Three empty plates sat on the coffee table, along with three glasses, each bearing different lip prints from where they'd all been sharing Stack's experimental mango smoothie.
Raven lay propped against her mountain of pillows, her feet elevated on a smaller cushion Stack had insisted she needed for "proper blood circulation." The television played some mindless reality show none of them were actually watching, its colorful characters moving silently across the screen while the three of them talked about nothing and everything at once.
"You know," Stack said, stretching his long legs out on the floor beside her pallet, "if we're having four kids, we're gonna need a bigger car."
"We have an SUV," Elijah replied from his spot on the couch, where he was meticulously folding one of the baby blankets for what had to be the tenth time that day.
"An SUV that's gonna smell like spit-up and have crushed goldfish crackers in every crevice within the first month," Stack countered. "We need like… a van. One of those big ones with the TV screens and the individual climate zones."
Raven laughed, shifting slightly to relieve the pressure on her lower back. "So we went from 'expensive china' to 'a minivan'?"
"You're upgrading from china to crystal, baby," Stack grinned, reaching over to rub her stomach. "Only the best for my queen."
The babies shifted under his touch, a ripple of movement visible through the thin fabric of her T-shirt. "They agree," Stack announced seriously. "I can feel their approval. Especially Blaze. He's already planning his road trip playlist."
"Blaze is going to be two weeks old," Elijah reminded him, setting the perfectly folded blanket aside. "He doesn't need a road trip playlist."
"Never too early to start them on good music," Stack argued. "None of that baby shark nonsense. We're starting them on real hip-hop. Old school. Biggie, Tupac, maybe a little Nas for the more sophisticated moments."
Raven smiled, watching them bicker back and forth. The nursery upstairs was ready. The birth pool still sat waiting in its corner. Their lives were about to change in ways they couldn't fully comprehend, and yet here they were, arguing about whether it was appropriate to play explicit rap music around infants.
As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, one of the babies—Khalil, maybe—pressed firmly against her ribs, a steady pressure that made her catch her breath. She shifted again, trying to find a comfortable position, but it was getting harder these days. At thirty-seven weeks with quadruplets, comfort had become a theoretical concept rather than an achievable reality.
"You okay?" Elijah asked immediately, his attention shifting from the blanket to her face.
"Fine," she reassured him. "Just someone practicing their ninja moves in there."
Stack's hand returned to her stomach, his expression softening as he felt the movements. "They're getting restless," he said quietly. "Getting ready to come out and meet us."
The thought sent a strange mixture of excitement and terror through Raven. For months, she had been counting down to this moment—reading every book, watching every documentary, preparing herself mentally and physically for bringing four children into the world. But now that it was actually getting close, the reality of it was settling in. Four babies. Four tiny humans who would depend on her for everything. Four lives she was responsible for nurturing and protecting.
"Hey," Stack said softly, noticing the shift in her expression. "We've got this. All of us."
Elijah nodded in agreement, moving from the couch to sit beside her pallet. "We're a team. Always have been."
Raven looked between them, at the identical expressions of determination on their faces. They had been her rock throughout this pregnancy—through the morning sickness that had lasted well into the second trimester, through the doctor's appointments where they'd learned they were having not just twins or triplets but quadruplets, through the moments when she'd looked at her expanding body and wondered how she would possibly survive the next few months, let alone the next few years.
And they had been there through it all—Stack with his boundless optimism and constant reassurance that everything would be fine, Elijah with his quiet strength and practical solutions to every problem that arose. They had transformed their entire lives to accommodate her and the babies, rearranging their home, their schedules, their priorities without a single complaint.
"I know," she said, reaching out to take both of their hands. "I just... sometimes it feels so big, you know? Four babies. How are we going to do this?"
"One day at a time," Stack answered immediately. "And with a lot of coffee. And possibly a minivan."
"And help," Elijah added. "Your mom and dad already offered to come stay for the first month. We're not doing this alone."
"Never alone," Stack agreed, squeezing her hand. "You've got us. Always."
The television continued to play in the background, its bright colors flickering across their faces as they sat there in the quiet afternoon, hands joined, hearts connected. Outside, the world went on—cars passing by, neighbors returning home from work, life continuing its steady rhythm. But here in their living room, time seemed to slow, stretching into something precious and fragile.
Raven felt a sudden surge of love for these two men who had become her everything. They hadn't planned this, hadn't expected to become fathers so soon, hadn't anticipated the chaos that was about to descend upon their lives. And yet, here they were, ready and willing to embrace it all because of her, because of the four tiny lives growing inside her.
"Thank you," she said softly, her voice thick with emotion.
"For what?" Stack asked, confused.
"For everything," she replied, her gaze moving between them. "For being you. For being here. For..."
She paused as another sensation rippled through her body—different this time, deeper and more purposeful than the usual movements. It wasn't painful, not exactly, but it demanded her attention in a way that nothing had before.
"What?" Elijah asked immediately, his expression shifting to concern. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she started to say, but then it happened again—a strange internal pop followed by a sudden warmth that spread quickly through her lower body.
She froze.
The television continued to play, the reality show's dramatic music swelling as if on cue. Stack and Elijah watched her, waiting for an explanation she wasn't sure she could provide.
"Raven?" Elijah prompted gently.
She looked down at herself, at the dark fabric of her T-shirt where it stretched over her stomach, then back up at them. Her mind raced, trying to process what had just happened, to connect the sensation with the reality she'd been reading about for months.
"I think…" she began, her voice barely above a whisper.
Beat.
"My water broke."
Silence.
The television seemed to grow louder, the reality show's contestants arguing about something that suddenly seemed utterly trivial. The late afternoon sunlight continued to stream through the windows, casting everything in that same golden glow as if nothing had changed.
But everything had changed.
Then—
Absolute chaos.
Stack shot up from the floor so quickly he nearly tripped over his own feet. "Now? Like right now? Are you sure?"
Elijah was already moving, his expression calm but his movements purposeful. "When did it happen? Are you having contractions? How far apart are they?"
"I don't know!" Raven answered, her voice rising with panic. "It just happened! Like five seconds ago!"
"The bag!" Stack shouted, already running toward the kitchen. "Where's the go bag? We packed the go bag, right? Elijah, we packed the go bag?"
"We have four go bags," Elijah replied calmly, already pulling out his phone. "One for each baby, one for Raven, and one for us. They're all in the hall closet."
"The birth pool!" Stack continued, his voice echoing through the house. "We need to inflate the birth pool! Where's the pump? Did we buy a pump?"
"It's in the box with the pool," Elijah said, dialing the midwife. "I'll get it after I call Sarah."
"Sarah!" Stack repeated, running back into the living room. "We need to call Sarah! And your mom! And my mom! And your dad! And—"
"Stack," Elijah said, his voice cutting through the panic. "Breathe."
But Stack couldn't breathe. He was already pacing the length of the living room, his long legs eating up the space as he muttered to himself about towels and heating pads and whether they had enough snacks for the midwives.
Raven watched him, a strange mixture of amusement and terror warring within her. This was it—the moment they'd been preparing for, the moment that would change everything. And somehow, it was both exactly as she'd imagined and completely different.
"Hey," she said, her voice cutting through Stack's frantic pacing. He stopped immediately, turning to face her.
"It's okay," she said, holding out a hand to him. "We're okay."
He crossed the room in three long strides, dropping to his knees beside her pallet and taking her hand. "Are you sure? Are you really sure your water broke? Like, are you positive positive?"
"Pretty positive positive," she replied with a small smile. "I don't usually experience spontaneous warming sensations in that particular area."
Elijah ended his call and rejoined them, his expression calm and reassuring. "Sarah's on her way. She said to try to stay calm, that it could still be a while before things really get going. She wants us to start timing the contractions if they start."
"Contractions," Stack repeated, his eyes widening. "Right. Contractions. We need to time them. Does anyone have a watch? Or a timer? Or—"
"I've got it," Elijah said, already pulling up an app on his phone. "Just breathe, 'Lias. We've got this."
Raven looked between them—at Stack's panicked energy and Elijah's calm determination—and felt a surge of confidence wash over her. They were ready. They had been ready for months, even if it didn't always feel like it. The nursery was finished, the birth pool was waiting, and most importantly, they had each other.
"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "Let's do this."
Stack's expression shifted from panic to determination in an instant. "Yeah," he nodded. "Let's do this. Let's inflate that pool. Let's get this show on the road. Blaze, Onyx, Khalil, and Shiloh are about to meet the world."
As if on cue, another sensation rippled through Raven's body—this one stronger, more insistent, undeniably a contraction. She gasped slightly, her fingers tightening around Stack's hand.
"Was that one?" Stack asked, his eyes wide with excitement and fear.
"Timer started," Elijah replied, his gaze fixed on his phone.
Raven nodded, breathing through the sensation as she'd practiced in the birthing classes they'd all attended together. "Yeah," she said, her voice steady despite the intensity building within her. "That was definitely one."
The television continued to play in the background, its colorful characters moving silently across the screen. But the three of them were no longer watching. Their world had narrowed to this room, to this moment, to the journey that was just beginning.
The birth pool waited in the corner, a silent promise of the work ahead. The nursery upstairs stood ready, four empty cribs waiting to be filled. And in the center of it all, Raven lay surrounded by the two men who had become her family, her lovers, her everything, ready to bring four new lives into the world.
It wasn't how she'd imagined it would happen—not this sudden, this chaotic, this real. But as another contraction rippled through her body, she knew with certainty that it was exactly how it was supposed to be.
Their babies were coming.
The moment the word "contractions" left Elijah's mouth, Stack's brain short-circuited.
It wasn't a gradual decline into panic. It was a sudden, catastrophic system failure, like a power line snapping in a storm. One minute he was kneeling beside Raven, holding her hand with the confident swagger of a man who had read all the books and attended all the classes. The next, he was on his feet, his eyes wide with the kind of terror usually reserved for horror movie protagonists.
"Shoes," he announced to the room at large, his voice cracking slightly. "I need shoes. Where are my shoes?"
Raven, who was breathing through another wave of tightening in her belly, managed to crack a smile. "Babe, you're wearing shoes."
Stack looked down at his bare feet, then back up at her, his expression utterly bewildered. "No, not these shoes. My hospital shoes. The comfortable ones. Where are they?"
"They're in the closet," Elijah said calmly, not looking up from his phone where he was already opening the contraction timer app. "With the rest of your shoes."
"The closet!" Stack snapped his fingers, already moving. "Right. Okay. Phone. I need my phone."
Raven watched him pat his pockets frantically, a genuine laugh bubbling up between contractions. "Stack, honey."
"I can't find it," he muttered, already tearing apart the couch cushions. "I had it like five seconds ago. I think I lost it."
"Stack," she tried again, her voice strained as another contraction built. "Look at your hand."
He glanced down, where his phone was clutched in a white-knuckled grip. "Oh. Right. Okay. Good. Phone's accounted for." His eyes darted around the room. "The go bags! We need the go bags! Elijah, did you grab the go bags?"
"I'm on it," Elijah replied, already heading for the hall closet. "You need to stay calm, 'Lias. Panicking isn't going to help."
"I'm not panicking!" Stack shouted, his voice echoing through the house. "I'm being proactive! I'm preparing! Where's the birth playlist? I spent three weeks curating that playlist! It's got the perfect mix of hip-hop and R&B for delivery and some softer stuff for after!"
"It's on your phone," Raven managed, squeezing her eyes shut as the contraction peaked. "The one you're holding."
"Right!" He tapped frantically at the screen. "Okay. Birth playlist... located. Keys! We need the car keys! Where are the keys?"
"On the hook by the door," Elijah called out, emerging with two of the go bags. "Where they always are."
"The hook!" Stack nodded, already moving toward the door. "Right. Okay. Keys, shoes, phone, playlist, bags... what else? What am I forgetting?"
Raven opened her mouth to answer but was cut off by another contraction, this one stronger than the last. "Oh, shit," she breathed, her fingers digging into the pillow beneath her.
That was all it took for Elijah's focus to sharpen. His calm demeanor shifted into something else—laser-focused, precise, the controlled force they all knew him for. "Okay," he said, his voice dropping into that low, steady register that always made everyone listen. "New plan. Stack, breathe. Raven, breathe with me. In through the nose, out through the mouth."
He was already moving, pulling out his phone again. "I'm calling Sarah again," he said, already dialing. "Then I'll call the birth assistant. Stack, I need you to get the towels from the linen closet. The dark blue ones. And then start filling the birth pool."
"On it," Stack nodded, his movements jerky and frantic as he headed for the linen closet.
Raven watched them, a strange mixture of pain and amusement warring within her. Here she was, in active labor, and her life had become a comedy routine.
"Sarah's on her way," Elijah said, ending the call. "She said to try to relax as much as possible between contractions. She wants us to keep timing them and let her know if they get closer than five minutes." He was already moving again, checking the supplies they had laid out weeks ago—gloves, gauze, scissors, bulb syringes, all arranged neatly on a tray beside the birth pool box.
"Pool's filling!" Stack called from the corner, where he was wrestling with the pump hose. "This thing is more complicated than it looks! Why does it have so many attachments?"
"Read the instructions," Elijah replied without missing a beat, already pulling out the diffuser and adding lavender oil. "Raven, do you want some water? You need to stay hydrated."
She nodded, unable to speak as another contraction washed over her. Elijah was there immediately, holding the bottle to her lips, his free hand rubbing her back in slow, steady circles.
"That's it," he murmured. "Just breathe through it. You're doing great."
By the time the contraction subsided, Stack had managed to get the pool partially inflated and was now checking the water temperature with a thermometer he'd found God knows where. "Ninety-eight degrees," he announced proudly. "Perfect for birthing."
"Good," Elijah nodded, already on his next task. "I'm calling the birth assistant. Stack, once the pool is filled, I need you to bring Raven some snacks. Nothing too heavy, maybe some of those dried mango slices she likes."
"On it," Stack saluted in a cringy nervous way, his movements still frantic but somehow more purposeful now. "Mango slices. Got it."
Raven watched them move around the room, a machine of panic and precision. Stack was all nervous energy, his movements sharp and jerky as he bounced between tasks, while Elijah was the calm center of the storm, his actions controlled and on point. Together, they were somehow keeping everything from falling apart.
The doorbell rang twenty minutes later, and both men froze.
"That's Sarah," Elijah said, already moving toward the door. "Stack, stay with Raven. I'll let her in."
Raven looked up as the door opened, revealing a tall, imposing woman with kind eyes and a no-nonsense expression. Sarah took in the scene with a single sweeping glance—Raven on the pallet, Stack hovering beside her with a look of pure terror, Elijah moving to greet her with an air of calm efficiency.
"Alright," Sarah said, her voice warm but firm. "Let's see what we've got here." She stepped inside, setting her bag down beside the door. "Who's panicking?"
Stack's hand shot up before he even thought about it.
Sarah's lips twitched with a smile. "Alright, Stack. You're on official panic duty. That means you get to be my special helper. Your first job is to take deep breaths whenever you feel yourself starting to spiral. Can you do that for me?"
He nodded, looking slightly ashamed. "Yeah. I can do that."
"Good," she nodded, already moving toward Raven. "Now let's see how our mama is doing."
Raven smiled up at her, grateful for the steady presence. "I'm okay," she said, just as another contraction began to build. "Or I will be. Eventually."
Sarah knelt beside her, placing a cool hand on her forehead. "That's it," she said softly. "Just breathe through it. You're doing amazing." She glanced over at Elijah, who was already taking notes on his phone. "How far apart are they?"
"About six minutes now," Elijah replied. "They started around fifteen minutes apart, but they've been getting closer."
"Good," Sarah nodded. "That's exactly what we want to see. Stack, how's that pool coming?"
"Almost ready!" he called from the corner, where he was struggling with the final inflation. "Just need to top it off and check the temperature again!"
"Perfect," Sarah smiled. "Elijah, I need you to bring me the birth stool and the kneeling pad. And then I want you to make Raven some tea—raspberry leaf, if we have it. It'll help with uterine tone."
"On it," Elijah nodded, already moving toward the kitchen.
Raven watched them all, her heart swelling with a love so intense it almost hurt.
"You're all crazy," she said, her voice thick with emotion as the contraction subsided.
"We're your crazy," Sarah replied, smoothing back her hair. "And we wouldn't have it any other way."
The doorbell rang again, and Elijah went to let in the birth assistant—a cheerful woman named Maria who immediately took over the task of finishing the pool setup while Sarah continued to assess Raven's progress.
By the time the sun began to set, casting the room in a warm, orange glow, the birth pool was ready, the diffuser was filling the air with calming lavender, and Raven was surrounded by her team—her chaotic, loving, perfectly imperfect team.
Stack had somehow managed to pull himself together, his panic replaced by a fierce determination as he held her hand through each contraction, his voice steady as he coached her breathing. Elijah moved between tasks with quiet efficiency, always seeming to know what was needed before anyone even asked. Sarah and Maria worked together seamlessly, their presence both reassuring and empowering.
"Okay," she said, her voice firm as the contraction peaked. "I think it's time to get in the water."
Sarah nodded, already moving to help her up. "I think you're right."
And as they helped her into the warm, welcoming water of the pool, Raven felt a sense of peace wash over her. The chaos had settled into a rhythm, the panic had transformed into purpose, and the love that had brought them all to this moment was stronger than ever.
The babies were coming.
The water was exactly the temperature Raven had imagined—warm enough to soothe but not so hot as to be uncomfortable. It enveloped her body, supporting her weight in a way that nothing else had for months. Behind her, Elijah's chest was a solid wall of muscle, his arms wrapped securely around her middle, his hands resting on the swell of her belly. In front of her, Stack knelt by the edge of the pool, his fingers laced through hers, his dark eyes never leaving her face.
No rushing. That's what Sarah had said. This was their baby's journey, and they would let it unfold at its own pace.
Hours passed.
The first hour was almost peaceful, the contractions still manageable enough that Raven could talk through them. Stack kept up a steady stream of commentary, pointing out which songs from his carefully curated playlist were coming on, making jokes about how the babies were definitely going to have excellent taste in music thanks to his influence.
"They're gonna come out rapping Biggie," he declared, squeezing her hand as a contraction built. "I can feel it. Blaze is already practicing his flow in there."
Raven laughed, the sound breathless but genuine. "Blaze is going to be a newborn, Stack. He's not going to be rapping anything."
"Never too early to start," he insisted. "We'll have him freestyling by kindergarten. Onyx can be his hype man."
Elijah's chuckle vibrated against her back. "Let's focus on getting them out first before we start planning their entertainment careers."
The second hour brought stronger contractions, waves of intensity that stole Raven's breath and left her clinging to Stack's hand. The music shifted from Stack's hip-hop playlist to something softer, more ambient, the change so natural that Raven didn't even notice until she found herself swaying to the gentle rhythm between contractions.
"Look at you," Elijah murmured against her ear, his hands rubbing slow circles over her lower back. "You're amazing. Just feeling what your body needs to do and letting it happen."
"I'm trying," she gasped as another contraction peaked, her body arching against his chest. "Oh, God, this is intense."
"You're doing great, mama," Stack reassured her, his voice steady as he pressed her hand to his lips. "Just breathe with me. In... and out. That's it. You're so strong, baby. So fucking strong."
The lighting in the room changed as the afternoon sun began to set, Sarah adjusting the lamps until the living room was bathed in a soft, golden glow that made everything feel dreamlike and intimate. The birth pool had become the center of their world, the focal point around which everything else revolved. The nursery waited upstairs, four empty cribs standing ready, but here in the living room, life was being made.
By the third hour, Raven was in another world entirely. The contractions came like tidal waves, building slowly, cresting with an intensity that bordered on pain, then receding just enough for her to catch her breath before the next one began. She was no longer laughing. She was crying sometimes, tears of exhaustion and emotion streaming down her face as she rode out each wave.
"Fuck," she sobbed against Stack's shoulder as a particularly strong contraction gripped her. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
"I deserve that," Stack said immediately, his voice gentle as he wiped her tears with his thumb. "I deserve every curse word you've got. Keep 'em coming if it helps."
"So do I," Elijah added from behind her, his hands never ceasing their steady massage. "We put you in this position. You can blame us all you want."
The fourth hour brought darkness outside, the moon rising in the sky as their intimate world inside continued to unfold. The twins never left Raven's side. Ever. One always behind her, supporting her weight, massaging her back, whispering encouragement in her ear. One always in front, holding her hand, helping her breathe, reminding her how strong she was, how loved she was.
Sometimes she was laughing, especially when Stack started making ridiculous faces to distract her during the peaks of contractions. Sometimes she was crying, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations and the emotions coursing through her. Sometimes she was cursing both of them, her vocabulary expanding in ways she didn't know was possible as she rode out each wave.
"I hate you," she snarled at Elijah during one particularly intense contraction, her fingers digging into his arm where it wrapped around her middle. "I hate both of you so much right now."
"I know," he replied, his voice calm and steady. "And we love you more than you can imagine. Just a little longer, baby. You're doing so well."
The doula coached everyone from her position by the side of the pool, her voice a quiet presence that guided them through the process. "That's it, Raven. Let your body do what it knows how to do. Don't fight it. Just breathe with it."
Sarah moved around them, checking Raven's progress, adjusting the water temperature, making sure everyone had what they needed. Maria, the birth assistant, was a constant reassuring presence, offering cool cloths, sips of water, quiet words of encouragement.
"You're almost there, baby," Elijah murmured against her ear as another contraction gripped her. "I can feel you changing. Our babies are getting ready to meet us."
Raven nodded, too exhausted to speak, her head resting against his chest as she focused on breathing through the intensity. Stack kissed her hand, his eyes never leaving her face.
"We're right here," he said softly. "We're not going anywhere. We've got you, always."
It was during the fifth hour that Elijah pulled out his phone, his expression thoughtful as he looked at Raven. "I want to call your parents," he said quietly. "I think they should be here for this."
Raven's eyes widened. "Here? As in... here here?"
"Just on FaceTime," he reassured her. "They don't have to see everything if you don't want them to. But I think they should be able to see you bringing their grandchildren into the world."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Okay," she breathed, just as another contraction began to build. "But don't tell them... you know."
"They're in for a surprise either way," Stack grinned, already adjusting his position to give her more support. "Let's make it a big one."
Elijah dialed, his expression calm as he waited for them to pick up. Raven took a deep breath, trying to prepare herself for this conversation while riding out another wave of intensity.
"Hello?" Her mother's face appeared on the screen, her expression curious. "Elijah? Is everything okay?"
"Everything's more than okay," Elijah replied, turning the phone so Raven's face was visible. "Raven's in labor."
"What?" Her father's face appeared beside her mother's, his eyes wide. "Now? Like right now?"
"Like right now," Raven managed, her voice strained as the contraction peaked. "Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad."
"Oh, baby," her mother breathed, her hands covering her mouth. "Are you okay? How far along are you?"
"Pretty far along," Stack answered for her, his voice gentle. "She's doing amazing. Really strong."
"Can we... can we see?" her father asked, his voice thick with emotion.
Elijah looked at Raven, who nodded slowly. He adjusted the camera, giving them a view of her face and upper body, careful to keep the water level and anything too private out of frame.
"There," Elijah said softly. "Can you see her?"
"Oh, honey," her mother whispered, tears already streaming down her face. "You look so beautiful."
"We're so proud of you," her father added, his voice thick with emotion. "Just breathe, baby. You're doing great."
The next contraction hit hard, and Raven cried out, her body arching against Elijah's chest. "I can't," she sobbed. "I can't do this anymore."
"Yes, you can," Stack said immediately, his voice firm but gentle. "You're doing it right now. Look at you. You're the strongest person I've ever known."
"You're almost there, baby," Elijah murmured against her ear. "Our babies are getting ready to meet us. And their grandparents."
Raven looked at the phone, at her parents' tear-streaked faces watching her with expressions of love and pride. She took a deep breath, letting their strength flow through her, giving her the resolve to keep going.
"Okay," she breathed, as the contraction began to subside. "Okay. I can do this."
The next hour was a blur of intensity and emotion. Raven moved from her side to her hands and knees, leaning against Elijah as Stack rubbed her back, his hands steady and sure. The contractions came one after another now, barely giving her time to catch her breath between them.
"I feel like I need to push," she panted, her body bearing down instinctively. "Oh, God, I need to push."
Sarah was immediately beside her, her voice calm and reassuring. "Listen to your body, Raven. If you need to push, push. But let's do it gently. Let our babies come down in their own time."
Raven nodded, her eyes closing as the next contraction gripped her. She bore down, her body working with a wisdom all its own, opening and releasing in ancient rhythm.
"That's it," Elijah encouraged, his hands supporting her weight. "Just like that. You're doing it. You're bringing our babies into the world."
Stack kissed her shoulder, his lips warm against her skin. On the phone, her parents watched in silence, their faces a mixture of awe and emotion as they witnessed their daughter bringing new life into the world.
"I can see the head!" Sarah announced excitedly. "Raven, you're doing it! Our first baby is almost here!"
Raven cried out, a sound of effort and emotion as she pushed with everything she had. And then, suddenly, there was a release, a moment of emptiness followed by the first cry.
"It's a boy!" Sarah announced, lifting a tiny, wriggling body from the water. "Blaze is here!"
Raven turned, her eyes wide as she saw their first child for the first time—a dark, perfect little being, already crying his indignation at being born into the world.
"Oh, God," she breathed, tears streaming down her face. "He's beautiful. He's so beautiful."
Elijah kissed her forehead, his own eyes wet with emotion. "He's perfect. Just like his mother."
Stack was already reaching for the baby, his hands gentle as he took him from Sarah. "Hey there, little man," he murmured, holding the tiny body close. "Welcome to the world. We've been waiting for you."
On the phone, Raven's parents were crying openly, their faces alight with joy and wonder. "Oh, honey," her mother sobbed. "He's beautiful. Absolutely beautiful."
But there was no time to rest. Already, another contraction was building, Raven's body already working to bring their next child into the world.
"Here we go again," she breathed, leaning back against Elijah's chest. "Okay. I'm ready."
The second baby came more quickly than the first, Raven's body already knowing what to do, opening and releasing with practiced efficiency.
"And another boy!" Sarah announced as the second baby emerged into the water. "Onyx is here!"
Raven laughed through her tears as Stack passed Blaze to Elijah so he could hold their second son. "Two boys," she breathed, her heart overflowing with love and wonder. "We have two boys."
"We have two sons," Elijah corrected, his voice thick with emotion as he held both babies, his expression one of pure awe. "Our sons."
But still, Raven's body wasn't finished. Another contraction gripped her, and she bore down again, her strength already waning but her determination stronger than ever.
"Come on, baby," Stack encouraged, his hand rubbing her back in steady circles. "You've got this. Just one more push."
"One more," she panted, her body working with a will of its own. "One more."
The third baby emerged with a rush of water, another cry joining the chorus as Sarah announced, "Another boy! Khalil is here!"
"Three boys," Raven breathed, her body trembling with exhaustion and emotion. "Oh, God, three boys."
Stack was already reaching for their third son, his hands gentle as he took him from Sarah. "Hey there, little man," he murmured, kissing the tiny forehead. "Welcome to the family. You've got a lot of brothers to keep up with."
On the phone, her parents were speechless, their faces a mixture of shock and joy as they tried to process what they were witnessing. "Three?" her father managed, his voice thick with disbelief. "You're having three?"
Raven started to laugh, but it was cut short by another contraction, stronger than all the others.
"There's another one," she gasped, her eyes wide with surprise. "Oh, God, there's another one."
"What?" her mother shrieked on the phone. "Another one? Raven, what's going on?"
"Surprise," Stack grinned, even as his expression turned serious. "You might want to sit down for this one."
Raven bore down with everything she had left, her body screaming in protest but her spirit pushing forward, determined to meet their final child.
"And a girl!" Sarah announced triumphantly as the fourth baby emerged into the water. "Shiloh is here! You have a daughter!"
Raven cried out, a sound of pure joy and relief as their final child joined their family. "A girl," she breathed, tears streaming down her face. "We have a girl."
Stack was already reaching for their daughter, his hands gentle as he took her from Sarah. "Hey there, princess," he murmured, holding her close. "Welcome to the world. Your brothers have been waiting for you."
On the phone, her parents were completely speechless, their faces a mixture of shock, joy, and disbelief as they tried to process what they were witnessing.
"Four?" her father finally managed, his voice thick with awe. "You're having four babies?"
"Four," Raven confirmed, her body trembling with exhaustion but her heart overflowing with love. "We have four babies."
Elijah carefully passed Blaze and Onyx to Maria, then reached for Khalil and Shiloh, his arms full as he held their two newest children. "We have a family," he breathed, his eyes wet with emotion as he looked at Raven. "We have everything."
Raven leaned over the side of the pool, her body exhausted but her spirit soaring as she looked at the four tiny beings who had changed everything. Four perfect, beautiful babies who had made their family complete.
"We have everything," she agreed, her voice thick with emotion as Stack kissed her, his lips gentle against hers. "We have everything."
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