A/N I'm only going to post one or two more Shringaar chapters here. As many of you are aware I'm taking my toys and going home. Just kidding. I'm moving all of my stories to my own bulletin board just because it's easier and I'm not posting twice. All readers are more than welcome to join me. We're a little bit Phantom, a lot orginal work (see my profile), and a whole lotta nonsense. It's a positive community—no badmouthing others. Writers and readers are welcome as long as you respect others. You mostly moderate yourself because I'm not going through every thread to modify snarkiness. We prefer membership to be 18 and over due to some mature content—I do write erotica, after all.

Thanks to all of you for reviewing. I miss writing Levesque. Sorry it's taken so long.

Gabrina

Shringaar11

Erik watched over Darika and her companion as they stood over Corinna. He held Sori in his arms, grateful for her slight but noticeable weight in his arms. If Corinna died, Sori would be all he had left of his wife, and even if he preferred not to think of it, the possibility remained heavy and black in his heart.

"What are you doing to her?" Erik asked as Darika wrung out a cloth and placed it under Corinna's arm.

"Cooling her," the girl answered. "I dampened her face and allowed it to dry and now I'm doing it again in other places."

"I tried and I almost killed her." He could hear the misery in his own voice, the fear that he'd be responsible for murdering the mother of his child. He'd almost killed her. Almost had been too close and he wouldn't risk her life again. "I didn't think the water was too cold."

"Sometimes it's hard to tell these things, especially when the moment is urgent." Darika pulled a blanket up to Corinna's stomach and smoothed it. She glanced up and smiled at him. "Because you realized the danger and wanted to help her at once. It's understandable. We'll take good care of her."

"Is she comfortable?" he asked, unsure of what to do or what to say. He wanted to watch closely but he didn't want to hover. Over and over he told himself not to trust Darika. Her sudden appearance had been too calculated, too orchestrated. He wouldn't put it past anyone in her family to approach with ill intentions.

And yet, she had the perfect opportunity to kill them all—mother, father, and child—and she hadn't acted. No assassin wasted time gaining trust when an open door presented itself.

"I think she's too warm and thirsty to be comfortable, but I don't know if she's in pain, which is what I think you're asking."

He nodded, all too familiar with the existence of pain. Every day they'd spent together he'd wanted nothing more than for her to be happy. Even when she'd come to him with her face painted and her body sheathed in gaudy colors he'd wanted to please her, to live up to her precise expectations.

"Come sit with her," Darika offered. She scooted aside and patted the bed for him to sit while Alin stood watch, his face strained.

Erik studied him a moment, wondered what the big man was thinking. He appeared wary of something, though Erik couldn't imagine anyone posing a threat to the giant of a man. No one would be foolish enough to challenge him—or at least Erik wasn't fool enough to instigate a fight. As long as he remained impassive toward Corinna he didn't much care if Alin stood watch.

"Erik," Corinna sighed.

His grip on Sori tightened, lips parted in astonishment. He took two steps and found himself at her side, kneeling with his daughter in his arms.

"I'm here," he said, his voice low as to not upset her or the baby.

"Don't leave me," she murmured. "Don't leave me again."

Darika took the opportunity to lift Corinna's head and bring water to her lips. She allowed her to drink slowly, and together Darika and Erik watched as Corinna struggled to take liquid.

"It has garlic in it," Darika said. "It will make you feel better very soon."

Erik took Corinna's hand in his and kissed her knuckles. "You needn't speak, my love. You must rest."

"Sori," she said, her voice louder than before.

Erik guided her hand to the perfect, tiny head covered with silky, dark hair. "I have her right here, Corinna. She's asleep. You rest as well and I'll bring her to you when she needs her mother." His voice cracked with emotion and the overwhelming surge of love and fear he'd felt since the moment fever had taken her.

Darika brought the cup of water to Corinna's lips for a second time and encouraged her to drink. "This is plain water. It will rinse the taste from your mouth. Isn't that good, Mrs. Levesque? Very cool and refreshing, isn't it?"

"Doctor," Corinna said.

Darika ran her fingers through Corinna's hair like a good, caring nurse. Erik watched her expression, saw the utmost respect and affection in her jade eyes. He'd never seen that look in her mother's gaze. They were different people with different purposes in life. At last he eased in her presence, almost certain Darika was incapable of doing Corinna harm.

"Sleep. We'll be nearby."

Corinna began to settle, her warm, clammy hand limp in Erik's grasp. He kissed her again, this time on the wrist. Such fine bones and delicate structure deserved the gentlest attention.

"You've saved her life," Erik said as he finally pulled his gaze away and looked Darika in the eye.

"She wanted you," she replied. "I think you saved her." Darika stood and smoothed her dress. "If you'd like I could take the baby from you for a moment and you could rest as well."

"I have her," he blurted out.

Darika smiled, not offended in the least. "Then Alin will make tea."

Alin's eyes widened. "Of course," he answered, glaring at her.

"We'll be downstairs. I'll return in an hour to see how Mrs. Levesque is doing and to give you something to wash her."

"Wash her?" he asked.

The girl nodded. "The birth area. It must be cleaned to keep further infection from starting."

He felt his cheeks begin to burn. "Of course," he said, his skin prickling with discomfort.

"Rest yourself. I'm sure it's been a long night for you as well."

-o-

Darika collapsed into a chair in the dining room and gave a sigh of relief. She loved the whole family from mother to daughter to father.

"We did it, Alin," she said.

"I don't think you did much of anything," he argued.

"Oh, you're the devil's advocate," she groaned.

"I beg your pardon, but you placed a damp rag in her armpit and she woke. I don't believe you did anything miraculous."

"No, perhaps not, but she's awake and Mr. Levesque is happy. That's all I needed."

"She could still take a turn for the worse."

"But she won't, especially if you stop all this nonsense about her health. Think positive."

"Realistic," he argued.

"Reality will be her recovery," Darika said, her voice raised in anger.

Alin blinked at her. "I hope you're right." He turned his empty teacup in his hand and stared at it. "Did you see how he looked?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"When he thought she might die, that you could kill her. I've never seen anything like that before, Darika. He's not able to function without her."

Darika's heart skipped a beat at the implication of love. Her dear father adored his wife and daughter. It was all she'd ever wanted, a loving parent who focused on a single partner as though no one else existed in the world—aside from his daughter, of course.

"What is that look for, Darika?"

"He's truly in love."

"That isn't what I meant."

"But it's true. He's the most loving man I've ever met."

Alin frowned at her. "You barely know him. In fact, you don't know him at all. You've been in his home for several hours and that's it."

"But I've seen it," she argued. There was nothing Alin could say that would make her believe anything other than what she'd already set in stone in her heart. He was a good, loving husband a good, caring father. A lifetime of cowering in her mother's shadow and fearing that the next person punished would be her, and that she would no longer exist. She'd come to America, to a land of possibilities and pleasant dreams. This was her new life, their new life. It was a chance to start over, to experience a family that cared for one another. A loving man, a loving wife, and loving children.

And he was her father.

Life could get no sweeter.