Ravyn
The sound of approaching helicopters grew louder as Ravyn struggled to calm the chaos in the medical wing. Hope’s cries had triggered a supernatural chain reaction—all four pregnant women were experiencing painful contractions as their babies responded to whatever threat the newborn was sensing.
“Everyone needs to get to the safe rooms,” Dr. Martinez said urgently, checking her patients while medical alarms blared throughout the facility. “These stress levels aren’t safe for any of the pregnancies.”
“The babies won’t calm down until the threat passes,” Ravyn said, the Celtic pendant burning against her skin as it responded to the collective distress. “They’re all connected now. Whatever Hope is feeling, they’re all feeling.”
Through the nursery windows, she could see the unmarked
