Chapter 16 Renard
SIXTEEN
RENARD
The first period had been solid.
I was in my stance, tracking the puck behind the Carvers' net, when something pulled my attention to the family section.
Julian was standing up. He had both hands on his belly and the man beside him was on his feet too.
The guy’s wide-eyed expression alarmed me.
But I couldn’t just skate off. Play was live and a goalie didn’t leave the crease mid-shift.
I’d have to wait for a whistle. Every second dragged like an hour.
Come on, come on. Ice it, shoot it wide or give me something to catch.
The Carvers dumped it into our zone and one of our defensemen swept it behind the net and held it against the boards. There was the whistle and I was moving before the referee’s arm came down.
Coach looked confused when I skated to the bench. He followed my gaze to the family section, to Julian being helped toward the exit aisle, and he must have registered what was happening.
"Go. Raul's ready."
I got out of the pads, skates, and chest protector as fast as I ever had—faster than I could believe—and pulled on sweats and shoes. My phone was buzzing in my stall. I grabbed it along with my keys and ran.
Julian was in the corridor outside the family section, bent forward with one hand braced against the wall. The man from the stands had his arm around him and looked relieved to see me.
"Renard." Julian's face was pale and there was sweat on his forehead. "The baby's coming."
"How far apart are the contractions?"
"Five minutes. Maybe less now."
I got my arm around Julian's waist and we started moving. He stopped twice on the way to the parking lot with his fingers digging into my forearm as contractions hit. It was hard enough to bruise. It didn’t hurt but it would have been painful for a human.
"Breathe." It felt kinda silly to be saying that. Of course he was going to breathe. But I had to remind him how to do it because otherwise I’d be flailing. "In through your nose and out through your mouth."
"I know how to breathe," he panted.
I got him into the passenger seat and ran around to the driver's side. "How are you feeling?"
"Like the baby’s trying to claw their way out." He hissed as another contraction took hold of him and he gripped the dashboard. "They're getting stronger."
I pulled onto the road. With one hand on the wheel, I reached toward him with the other. He took it and squeezed so hard that it was painful but my wolf told me to forget that.
"Breathe with me. In for four, hold for two and then out for six."
We breathed together through the next cramp. It was eighteen minutes to home. Maybe fifteen if the lights cooperated.
"Talk to me," Julian said when it passed. "Distract me."
"We were up by one when I left. Raul has it."
Another contraction cut him off and he doubled over as far as the seatbelt would let him and a desperate sound tore out of him. I wish it was me giving birth because I could take the pain and I didn’t want the man I adored, my mate, to be in such agony.
"Renard, it hurts."
What was I supposed to say to that? He was the one giving birth and the one who’d carried our child all these months. I couldn’t tell him it didn’t or to ignore it.
"Our little one is almost here, my love. The pain will be gone soon and you’ll have our baby in your arms."
The contractions were coming faster. Three minutes apart, then two. Julian was gripping the door handle and my hand simultaneously. His breathing was ragged between contractions but deep and steady during them. I watched the road and swiveled to look at him and kept my voice steady.
"Renard." His voice cracked. "I don't think we're making it inside."
I turned into our driveway. "The baby doesn’t care about the time or the place.
They just want out and to meet you and me.
" I sounded unruffled as though I delivered a baby in the car every day.
But my belly was churning. There was no one here to help Julian other than me.
I had to be his support, midwife and mate rolled into one.
But as I breathed with Julian, a calm came over me as pack birthing instinct I must have absorbed surfaced.
Leaving the engine running, I raced to his side and he caught my arm and dug his nails into me.
"I need to push," he gasped. "Now."
I pulled off his pants, got him into the back seat, and helped him bend his knees. My hands were shaking and I asked my beast to make them stop if he could. I kneeled on the concrete driveway that felt rough through my sweatpants.
"I'm scared." My mate’s eyes were wide. "What if I can’t do this?"
"We’re a team. You, me and the baby. We’ve got this." I squeezed his knee and met his gaze. "Your body knows what to do. Trust yourself."
The next contraction hit. Julian’s face contorted and he bore down. The baby's head was beginning to crown and the nearby streetlight shone on our little one’s dark hair. Now was not the time to let fear or excitement overtake me and my wolf helped control my breathing.
"You're doing so well. I’m so proud of you. A few more pushes and the baby’s head will be out."
"It hurts." The neighbor's porch light flicked on at Julian’s screeching. But they were a shifter and they’d scent what was happening so there was no need for an explanation.
"It’s almost over, my love. You’re so close. Give a big push on the next contraction."
There were more contractions and more pushing before the baby’s head was out and I supported our child’s head with both hands. They were still trembling but when I touched the baby’s head, they stopped.
"One more push and we meet our baby."
Julian groaned and pushed and I helped ease the shoulders through one at a time before the baby slipped into my hands. We had a tiny little girl who screamed the moment she was born.
I couldn't see properly through the tears. "We have a daughter."
Julian was crying too. "Is she okay?"
"She's fine." She had ten fingers and ten toes and she was breathing. I wrapped her in my jacket and placed her on his chest.
Our daughter's cries filled the driveway and she waved her tiny fists as she scrunched up her face.
Julian hugged her. "Look at you. Couldn't wait another single minute, could you?" He stroked her hair. "It’s dark like yours."
"Her eyes might be yours." I touched her cheek with one finger. "We'll find out with time."
I gathered them both and carried them inside. My legs were unsteady in a way they hadn't since my first professional game. In our bedroom I settled them on the bed and covered them in blankets before climbing in beside my mate.
"She's so tiny," I said.
"But those lungs." Julian was wincing with every laugh. "The whole street heard her."
"I delivered our baby in full hockey gear."
Julian laughed and our daughter startled at the sound. "What do we call her?"
We'd never decided but one name was at the top of our list. "Darcy?"
Julian nodded.
My phone buzzed with a text from Raul. We won 3-1. Everyone okay?
She's here. Her name is Darcy. Both dads are fine.
Thirty seconds later, Coach messaged. Congratulations. Take the week.
I placed the portable bassinet on the bed and we lay on either side of it watching our daughter sleep. I was hopelessly, completely in love with her in the way I hadn't known was possible until approximately forty-five minutes ago.
I reached across the bassinet and found my mate’s hand.
"We're parents," Julian whispered.