Chapter Sixteen
Nico
The nursery was set, the house was puppy-proofed, and everything I’d wanted had been moved from the storage room and positioned then repositioned like a dozen times to suit me. Our little pup, definitely male, had kept his little behind turned at an odd angle, and Dr. Finnegan didn’t seem too keen on figuring it out. It was alpha or omega, he could tell me that much, but neither I nor Shilo wanted to press the issue or cared enough to know. A healthy baby was all we could ask for.
As if to remind me he was there and healthy, he kicked me right in the diaphragm and stole my breath before deciding to stretch out and continue my discomfort. “Ugh…”
Shilo peered into the nursery and glanced around, his eyes hooding. Keeping me out of his bed had been a hard feat the past few days, pretty much telling us both I was cutting things close. I was ready to be done with it anyway. I was fat, hot, tired, and every part of my body ached.
“You okay, Donner?” Shilo winked at me, using that awful name the pound had given me a year ago nearly on the dot.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m trying to figure out where to put that fancy baby swing my father sent.” I put my hands on my hips and stared around. There were so many things in the room already that everyone assured me I’d need. I was happy with what I had for my little brothers: a rocking chair, a good bassinet, diapers, bottles, and an unreasonable amount of receiving blankets. They truly were the all-in-one item for all babies.
“Put it in the living room. If they’re going in the swing, they’re probably being fussy, and you may want to sit down to relax a bit.” Shilo shrugged, and I nodded in agreement.
“I know baby stuff tends to spread, so I was hesitant to—”
“This is our home, our baby, and our life. Feel free to spread out, love.” Shilo picked up the swing, and I reached for it, dead set on doing everything on my own.
He turned away from me and waltzed off. “Nope. No more lifting for you.”
“Fine!” I huffed and crossed my arms while he went to place the swing. He also came back and snagged one of the bassinets I had.
My brow furrowed, and he hoofed it to his office, placing it by his desk. “There, when Papa needs some me-time and naps, I can watch the baby in here.”
“Oh, you won’t have to do that. I’ll take—”
“No, I’ve told you a dozen times. Half of this baby is mine. I’ll take equal part in raising.” Shilo rolled his eyes and put his hands on my shoulders. “You. Are. Not. Alone. I do not have a stable of omegas I’m breeding with. I can handle my children. I’m not your father. My time isn’t rationed out like favors.”
I hated when he pulled that card, and I gave him my fiercest glare over it. Of course, he wasn’t my father! He was everything I never knew I needed. He was perfect.
Wordlessly, he scooped me into his arms and toted me off to the living room. I assumed he wanted to watch TV or fool around, but when he tucked me in and kissed my forehead, I blinked in surprise. “I want to order some takeout for us. What’s on your mind?”
The thought of food made me blanch, and it was clear that he understood my reaction. My increased appetite for lust, the nesting, my lack of desire for takeout—it all meant one thing. Shilo wouldn’t let it go unsaid.
“I’m texting Paul,” he said, holding up his phone with Dr. Finnegan’s name clear on it.
I scoffed and settled down on the couch. I’d seen omegas in labor before, and the process went by so quick that oftentimes, there wasn’t time to get professionals involved. It was more of a call the pack doctor when it’s done kinda deal.
Sitting down didn’t suit me, and I rose shortly after, pacing back and forth. Standing in place seemed to make my anxiety rise, and Shilo was gracious enough to give me my space.
As I spent my time pacing from one room of the house to another, I had an inkling that my wolf was driving things. It wasn’t until I was collecting quilts from our bed and pitching them into the nursery closet, did I realize what I was doing, fully.
Of all the things. I had a full bedroom, huge bathroom, an entire nursery, guest bedroom, garage, office, and screened back porch. I had anywhere in the house, and of all places, I wanted there. Such was life for an omega, without rhyme or reason that we were conscious of. I’m sure there was some philosophical or scientific reason we chose the places we did, but it was merely a whim of the wolf, at the end of the day.
I stripped, each article of clothing constricting me in ways I found repugnant. My shirt brushed over the swell of my belly; the pants hugged my ass too tight. My socks squeezed my perpetually puffy feet.
That didn’t matter as I ripped it all away and bundled myself in the dark confines of the closet amid all the things my baby would need. A contraction rippled through my belly then, something I’d been doing my best to ignore as it hadn’t exactly hurt.
As I willed the pain away, bundling myself tighter, I closed my eyes and tried to rest.
Soft laughter drew me out of my fugue and I opened a single eye as a growl pushed free of my throat.
Shilo. His gaze met mine and the scent of another omega milling about drew my attention. Dr. Finnegan. I supposed it wasn’t as quick for me as it had been for my father’s other omega consorts. Stepparents? It said a lot that I didn’t even remember half their names.
Everything seemed so dreamlike in the confines of my safe little hideaway. Shilo’s warm arms surrounded me from behind and I lay on my side, a leg propped up, knees bent. Dr. Finnegan knew what he was doing and thankfully, everyone stayed quiet. I dreaded the questions and comments to come, but it all appeared so superficial at that moment.
I bore down as the urges came to me, pushing through my tightening belly as I ignored Dr. Finnegan’s low murmur and Shilo’s answer. If that’s what birthing felt like, I didn’t think I’d mind doing it again. Though, the crying-pup phase would be the test.
I pushed again, and my previous thoughts about the process being tolerable went out the window and I cried out. My entire belly ached, knotted up in the world’s worst charley horse. I vaguely held on to awareness long enough to stifle my swears and not draw claws at those trying to help me.
Shilo’s warm hand cupped my belly, held me tight, and whispered sweet, unintelligible things through the contraction and long push.
Time lapsed, sweat pooled despite the cold outside and the moderate heat inside. I should have been chilled, but my nest of blankets in the warm confined space with Shilo’s body heat kept me stable. I should have been screaming. But I couldn’t. Aside from the initial cries and swears of shock, my instincts said to keep quiet, to defend my nest and pups with silence. I was vulnerable. Too much so.
When I finally pushed again, my body flowered open, if my sensations were to be believed. My insides spread, becoming my outsides—I tried my best to ignore it. Again, I pushed, and again, the agony becoming my normal. I could bear it. A thousand- thousand omegas before me had bore the pain of birth. A thousand-thousand more to come would, too.
“Doing good,” Dr. Finnegan said, my awareness coming in and out.
“You’ll see your baby soon. Our baby, Nico.” Shilo choked a sob, and I surrendered my body to the pain and bore down, unrelenting and unapologetic for whatever mess I surely made.
Emptiness met the sudden sensation of relief. Breaths I didn’t realize I couldn’t take came back to me, and my entire body went limp as I opened my eyes to look at the most beautiful pup covered in birthing fluid.
“He’s got so much hair…” I vaguely recalled saying as I reached a shaking hand out. My father’s pups had always been born bald as anything, but not mine. Lightly colored locks of hair stuck up at all angles, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the shivering cries of protest. He was crying. He was alive. He was probably cheeseburger scented, because by the goddesses, I’d eaten so many while pregnant. Always cold.
Shilo held him first, arms grouped around the small, bundled child as Dr. Finnegan saw to cleaning me. “No tearing.”
That seemed like a good thing, I was certain. I flinched when cold hands pressed on my belly and tissue passed. Then the little one was in my arms and I was crying tears of joy.
“Got any names planned?” Dr. Finnegan sat back on his heels and fastidiously wiped at his hands on a rag while gathering trash and soiled items. “Guess you’ll need to know the gender for a name.”
“There’s no difference between alpha and omega names to me.” Shilo laughed and reached into my field of view to stroke a finger over a plump little cheek.
“Reese.” My voice cracked as his little mouth opened and chased my finger, looking for sustenance.
“Fitting name for a sigma.” He grinned and my heart skipped a beat. “We can just pretend he’s an alpha until he’s showing his gift.”
Sigmas were a rare thing, but Shilo didn’t jump in surprise. “Fated mates and happy packs make magic. I told you. Love is powerful.”
It explained why the doctor was hesitant to tell us gender. I wasn’t sure how they differentiated sigma from alpha, as they were physically identical to the naked eye, but he’d known.
As I stared down at the little pup in my arms, I did my best to ignore the pain on Dr. Finnegan’s face. But if it bothered him too much, he didn’t let it last. I wished he could have his family, but if it was healing he needed, I spoke. “I think you’ll be very important to our pup. You’re the most capable omega I know, and I hope you’ll be there to help him learn and love.”
He stared at Reese, expression melting. “Yeah. It takes a pack to raise a pup, and it doesn’t matter what wolf whelped them, we’ll all be there to nip him into place.”
“As every pup in this pack is mine by heart, so all of my blood-borne pups will be everyone’s too. In every little way, they’ll all be mothers, fathers, pappas, and zazas to our little one. A pack makes their alpha.” Shilo leaned down to kiss the top of my head.
And to think, a year ago, I’d been staring down death in search of a cold, stale, cheeseburger.