Chapter 18
Annalise
The pain hit me like a sledgehammer, ripping through my abdomen with such intensity that I couldn't even scream.
I doubled over in my bed, my hands gripping the sheets so tightly I heard fabric tear.
The baby had been restless all evening, kicking and shifting with an urgency that had kept me awake, but this was different.
Something's not right, Sapphire said, her voice tight with pain and fear. The pup is coming too fast, too hard. This isn't normal.
Another contraction seized me, and this time I did scream—a raw, animalistic sound that echoed off the walls of my small apartment. Through the haze of agony, I could hear my phone ringing insistently on the nightstand.
Marshall. The man who'd spent the last month proving himself in ways both small and significant.
Who'd shown up to every festival setup meeting, who'd hauled tables and strung lights without complaint, who'd earned grudging acceptance from Tom and even a few approving nods from Rita.
He'd been nothing but respectful and patient, never pushing for more than I was willing to give.
He had become a quiet, constant presence.
Groceries would appear on my doorstep—not just random food, but thoughtful choices: the iron-rich vegetables Dr. Harrison had recommended, the ginger tea that soothed my nausea, the specific brand of ice cream I craved.
Some evenings, when he saw the exhaustion etched on my face after a long shift, he would show up at my door with ingredients and quietly cook dinner, leaving the meal on my table before retreating to the hotel he was staying at.
He never overstayed or pushed for an invitation.
He just... provided. When my feet swelled, a comfortable footstool appeared outside my apartment.
When I mentioned wanting to read about childbirth, a stack of the best books on the subject was delivered from the local bookstore.
It was a silent, steady courtship of care, with every action demonstrating that he was paying attention to my needs, not his own.
He even covered a few of my shifts at the diner when I was too tired to stand, insisting to Maggie that she pay me my wages anyway.
He wasn’t trying to consolidate my life to pack it up; he was helping me build it, right here in Maine.
A couple of times, he'd had to return to Washington for a few days of pack business. I’d overhear him on the phone with Jackson, his voice low but firm as he gave orders, the Alpha still clearly in command of his territory from three thousand miles away.
The first time he left, a part of me expected him not to return.
It would have been the easy way out. But he always came back, exactly when he said he would, his rental car pulling up outside the diner right on schedule.
I fumbled for the phone, my vision blurring as another wave of pain crashed over me. The screen swam in front of my eyes, but I managed to swipe to answer.
"Annalise?" His voice was sharp with concern and something that sounded like panic. "I'm coming up now. Something's wrong, isn't it? I can feel—" He stopped himself, but I could hear his footsteps already on the stairs outside my apartment.
"The baby," I gasped, my words coming out in breathless pants. "Something's wrong. The contractions are too strong, too close together. It feels like he's trying to claw his way out."
"I'm here," he said, and I could hear him at my door, keys jingling. "I'm right here. I've got the spare key you gave me for emergencies."
The door opened before I could even try to get up, and Marshall burst in, his phone still pressed to his ear even as he rushed to my side. He ended the call and dropped to his knees beside the bed, his hands hovering near me, clearly wanting to help but not sure how.
He took one look at my face and went pale. "How far apart are the contractions?"
"There are no breaks," I panted, gripping the sheets as another wave of agony rolled through me. "They're constant. And there's so much pressure, like he's trying to shift inside me."
Marshall's face went white as understanding dawned. "He's trying to shift. Our pup is trying to shift in the womb."
Alpha pup, Sapphire confirmed grimly. Too strong, too dominant. He can't wait to be born properly.
"We need to go to the hospital," I said, but Marshall was already shaking his head.
"No. Human doctors won't understand what's happening.
They won't know how to handle a shifting alpha pup.
" His hands hovered near me, clearly wanting to help but not sure how.
"Annalise, I need to call someone. There's a pack about forty minutes north of here, the Tidecrest Pack.
Their Luna is a trained midwife who specializes in difficult supernatural births. "
"I don't know them," I protested, even as another contraction nearly brought me to my knees.
"They know about you," Marshall said, his phone already in his hand. "They've been keeping an eye on you since you arrived. Not watching you," he added quickly at my look of alarm, "just making sure you were safe. Alpha Ronan told me when I first came to Maine."
He was already dialing, his voice urgent as someone answered. "Ronan, it's Marshall Kane. Annalise is in labor, and the pup is trying to shift. We need Luna Elspeth now... Yes, I understand the risk... No, I don't care about protocols, this is my mate and my son... Twenty minutes, we'll be there."
He hung up and turned to me, his amber eyes intense with purpose. "Can you walk to the car?"
I nodded, though walking felt impossible. Marshall grabbed my overnight bag—the one I'd packed weeks ago in preparation—and helped me down the stairs. Every step sent shockwaves of pain through my body, and by the time we reached his car, I was sobbing.
"I know, baby, I know," he murmured, helping me into the passenger seat. The endearment slipped out naturally, and neither of us acknowledged it. "Just breathe. Luna Elspeth will know what to do."
The drive was a blur of agony and Marshall's steady voice talking me through breathing exercises.
Between my ragged pants and his words of encouragement, I could hear him speaking softly, his voice a low rumble directed at my belly.
"Easy now, little pup. Just slow down. Take it easy on your mama, okay?
She's strong, but you're giving her a rough ride. We're almost there."
He kept one hand firmly on the steering wheel, but his right hand rested on the center console, fingers outstretched toward me—not touching, but a silent offer of comfort if I needed it.
"Tell me about the pack," I gasped during a brief lull in the pain.
"Small but stable. About sixty members. Alpha Ronan is good people—fair, protective of his pack, respectful of boundaries." Marshall's voice was calm, soothing. "Luna Elspeth has delivered over fifty supernatural births, including several alpha pups. She knows what she's doing."
Another contraction hit, and this time I felt something shift inside me. The pup was moving, but not in the normal way. I could feel his tiny wolf trying to emerge, could sense the primal power that was too big for his small body.
"He's so strong," I whispered, awe mixing with fear. "I can feel his wolf."
"He's going to be incredible," Marshall said softly. "Just like his mother." He glanced at my face, saw the fresh wave of pain, and pulled the car over to the side of the road with a crunch of gravel, the engine still humming.
He turned fully in his seat to face me, his expression a mask of controlled calm. “Annalise,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Let me try something. May I?” I was in too much pain to speak, so I just gave a desperate, jerky nod.
He leaned across the console and placed both of his large, warm hands on my belly. The contact was electric, sending a jolt of calm through the chaos. He closed his eyes for a second, concentrating, and I felt a faint thrum of his Alpha power, not demanding, but soothing.
“Son,” he murmured. “You need to stop now. You’re hurting your mother. Be still. We’re almost there.”
The effect was instantaneous. The frantic, clawing pressure inside me ceased. The restless shifting stopped. The pup, responding to his father’s gentle command, settled. The relief was so profound I sagged back against the seat, gasping.
“Thank you,” I breathed, looking at him with wide, exhausted eyes.
He gave my belly one last, gentle rub before pulling his hands back. “Just hang on,” he said, his voice thick with emotion as he put the car back in gear and sped onto the road. “We’re only a few minutes away.”
The Tidecrest Pack territory was beautiful—rolling hills that sloped down toward the rocky Maine coastline, with a cluster of well-maintained buildings nestled between forest and sea. As we approached a large, gated entrance, Marshall rolled down his window.
A broad-shouldered guard stepped out of a small booth, his expression serious. "This is private territory."
"Alpha Marshall Kane of the Cascade Pack," Marshall said, his voice carrying the calm authority of an Alpha. "Alpha Ronan is expecting us. My mate is in labor."
The guard's eyes flickered to me, and his professional demeanor softened with understanding. "I’ll guide you."
He started to take a step toward the rear passenger side, but a low, guttural growl rumbled from Marshall's chest. It was Ranger, making it clear that no other male was getting near his laboring mate.
The guard stopped instantly, but a knowing grin touched his lips. He'd expected it. "Right," he said, taking a respectful step back from the car. "Forgot about that part."
Without another word, he shifted. The transformation was a blur of motion, and where the man had stood a second before, there was now a massive gray wolf. He gave us a single, intelligent glance, then loped through the now-open gates.
"Hold on," Marshall said, his hand briefly squeezing my knee before he put the car in gear and followed.