LAKE
Twenty-eight years ago
I open my eyes.
Pain tears through my body, and I feel a thin stream of blood running down my temple.
I try to see anything around me, but my neck aches and my vision is blurry, a gray haze, and then a sharp contraction rips through my body, and I realize I have gone into labor.
"Aiden," I call out, or at least I try to, but my voice sounds like a whisper, strangled and weak.
I turn my head to the side and see that Aiden is still strapped in. He is unconscious, his head hanging against his chest.
I hear his heartbeat next to me, but I have to be sure. I reach out with a trembling hand and check for a pulse, and thankfully I feel it beneath his skin.
"Aiden, my love… please…" I whisper, but my throat still refuses to cooperate.
I blink hard to clear the fog from my eyes and slowly try to understand what happened.
I think I know. We crashed. The car must have veered off the road into some kind of ravine. I am certain of it because through the window I see broken branches and thick green undergrowth.
And in the front seats…
Oh, Fate!
Shock hits me when I realize that the man who was driving did not survive.
He is missing his head, and where it should be, jammed into the back of his neck, is a thick branch. His head hangs completely to the side, almost outside the shattered window, twisted unnaturally, and instead of a face there is a mangled mess of flesh and bone, so nausea surges up my throat.
I fight the urge to vomit and try to control the shock because another contraction rips through my stomach, much stronger this time, sharp and merciless.
I shake Aiden’s shoulder, but he still does not react.
My gaze shifts toward the pregnant omega who was riding with us.
"Albert?"
I think that was his name, if I remember correctly. His head hangs against his chest, but not the way his husband’s does. The omega is clearly unconscious, but I can hear his heartbeat, so I know he is alive.
"Aiden, Aiden!" I call out, but it is useless. My husband is deeply unconscious.
I finally manage to unbuckle my seat belt, and to my surprise, the door on my side is not jammed. After I ram my shoulder into it, it pops open.
I practically fall out onto the ground rather than step out. The area here is a grassy slope, the soil damp because it has been raining.
Getting around the car is not easy. Another contraction shoots through my stomach, and I also realize my pants are wet. Is that possible?
Damn it, my water must have broken…
Just my luck. What a situation.
With shaking hands, I pull out my phone, but it barely catches a signal, only a single bar.
I try calling. At first there is a ringing tone, then it cuts out and the call drops.
Cursing under my breath, I start moving around the back of the car. Behind us I see a trail of broken branches and saplings the car plowed through, but the road must be far away, and the slope rises steeply toward the direction we came from.
From here, I cannot even hear traffic. Could we really be that far from the road?
I finally reach the other side of the car.
I first try opening Aiden’s door, but it is jammed. The window is shattered. I stick my hand inside and try to unlock it this way and that, but nothing works.
"Aiden, Aiden!"
He does not respond.
I look around helplessly for a moment, then try calling again.
And again, the call drops. Are we in some kind of dead zone where no signal reaches? I have no idea.
I finally look toward the pregnant omega.
Maybe I should try to help him too?
Luckily, I manage to open the door on Albert’s side.
He is covered in his husband’s blood. The question is whether he himself is injured.
With difficulty, I lean in and unbuckle his belt, grab him by the shoulders, and start dragging him out of the car.
The one good thing is that their car is electric, so there is little risk of an explosion, unless the battery goes, because with those you never know, they also explode or go into thermal runaway.
Even so, I want him away from the car so I can assess his condition.
I lay him on the grass, but I cannot calm down. My heart keeps pulling me back to Aiden. This is a stranger, and Aiden is my True Mate. I have to go back, I have to…
I return to the car and try again to open the door, but it is impossible.
I yank on it again and again in frustration, even kick it, but another contraction rips through my stomach and makes me collapse to my knees.
I lean against the door, panting, my belly hardening.
I have too much experience with childbirth not to know exactly what is about to happen.
My child is going to be born out here in some godforsaken ravine on the side of a forested mountain, far from people, far from safety, and whatever happens, help will not come fast, but I have to try. Aiden could be bleeding internally. I have to help him.
I finally decide to go back around the car. I crawl toward the omega lying on the ground to look for his phone. Maybe it will catch a stronger signal. I search his pockets and find his wallet. Out of habit, I look inside, and behind the plastic window I see his ID.
Albert Strada.
I set the wallet aside and keep searching. In the inner pocket of his coat, I finally find his phone.
But it is even worse. His is a different model than mine, and it does not pick up even a single bar.
I curse in frustration and want to return to Aiden, but then I hear a faint moan from the omega.
My eyes fall on his swollen belly, and I realize he is having contractions.
For Fate’s sake, not only am I in labor, but he is too!
Maybe his is premature; his belly is big, but you never know.
I am alone here. The only one conscious. In labor myself, and now this on top of it?
The urge to cry rises fast, but that has never been who I am. Giving up is not an option. My children are waiting for me at home, Aiden is unconscious, and something has to be done.
Even as another contraction steals my strength, I force myself back onto my feet. Inside the car, I reach into the pocket and grab Aiden’s phone. I have to try again.
It is the newest model. Maybe it can catch even a sliver of signal.
One bar shows. I try calling.
The call connects. Two rings. Then it drops.
Anger surges, sharp and violent, and for a second I want to throw the phone onto the ground, but somehow I manage to stop myself.
That is when I notice the trunk is slightly open. Moving along the side of the car, careful not to slip on the wet ground, I peer inside and spot a few things that could help, two blankets and a jacket.
There is also a small first-aid kit.
All that needs to be done is to spread it on the ground and roll the unconscious omega onto one of the blankets, which isn’t exactly easy.
One more thing. Both of our pants have to come off, mine and his, which is another challenge on top of that. Getting his off is manageable, but with my huge belly, pulling down my jeans is pure torture and awkward gymnastics.
The contractions keep hitting, far too frequent, far too strong.
Finally, we are both without pants.
In any other situation, undressing some stranger would be suspicious at best and morally questionable, but right now, necessity wins.
I can tell his labor is already advanced. After giving birth to three, I know a thing or two. I look between his pale, slender legs. His opening is wide, and more contractions move through his limp body.
But the same is happening to me.
I position myself beside him, feeling my baby’s head slip lower through the birth canal. I grit my teeth. During childbirth, I usually have Aiden’s help; his True Mate energy shields me from the worst of the pain and gives me strength, but now it is gone, so the pain hits with full force.
Gosh, it hurts!
I twist in a powerful contraction. Oh, how I appreciate Aiden’s support during my previous births now. He really did help me. It’s torture!
The unconscious omega groans too. I never knew a person could go through labor while unconscious, but here we are. Strange world.
A moment later, the crown of the baby’s head appears at his opening.
At the same moment, I feel the head begin to push out of mine.
One strong push, I gather myself and bear down, and the baby slides out. I look down.
I see the wet face of a newborn, typical and swollen around the eyes, with a dark red tuft of hair on the top of his head.
"Bay," I whisper softly. "My son…"
In the next instant, my gaze snaps away because the head of the second boy is born, and something catches my attention, something that makes my breath stop in terror.
Dear Fate…
No… not that, please!