Chapter 17 Asher
ASHER
It was early morning when I followed my father through the snow across den territory. We’d checked trap lines and the smoking sheds, and he’d been talking about yield rates and distribution channels for the smoked fish business that kept the den fed and funded.
“The key is consistency.” He strode ahead, and I had trouble keeping up.
Kipp had been wrong about Father becoming weak and feeble. Now that my stepfather was in the past, my father was the Alpha I remembered.
“The restaurants in the city need to know they can rely on us. Every shipment has to be properly smoked, well packaged, and on time.”
I nodded and made notes on my phone, though Father was old-school and thought I should be writing with a pen and paper. It was strange, learning to be part of this world again.
The pack had been my home for twenty years, and their ways were ingrained in me.
Wolves operated differently than bears in that they were more communal in some ways but more hierarchical in others.
The den was both familiar and foreign, almost like a language I'd once spoken fluently but had now forgotten.
“Rudy and his team handle most of the fishing,” my father explained and pointed toward the frozen lake in the distance.
Not the lake where my stepfather had taken me. I hadn’t been back there, but Weston said he’d accompany me after the baby was born so we could sweep away the ghosts.
“But you'll need to know the whole operation. When you're Alpha, every part of the den's survival is your responsibility.”
He spoke of when, not if. He'd been saying it more often lately, and each time anxiety caused an ache in my belly. I'd come back to protect the den, not to lead it. But my father was getting older, and the den needed an heir who understood both the old ways and the new world we lived in.
We stopped at one of the smoking sheds, and Father pulled open the door.
The rich scent of alder wood and salmon hit me immediately.
Inside, several den members were hanging fresh catches on racks and tending the fires.
They looked up when we entered, and I caught the wariness in some of their eyes.
I was still an outsider. The Alpha's son who'd been raised by wolves and mated to a human. Some of them had accepted me, but others reserved judgment.
“Asher.” My father's voice brought me back to the present. “Come look at this.”
He showed me how to tell when the fish was properly cured and how to spot the signs of a fire that was burning too hot or too cool. I listened and learned and tried to absorb twenty years of knowledge in the few months we'd had together.
“Your dad would be proud,” he said as we left the shed. “He always said you had a good heart and that you'd be a strong Alpha someday.”
The mention of my omega dad had me stopping and taking deep breaths. His death was when my life had changed for the worse. I only had brief memories of him, but I treasured the ones that remained. Being back in the den made it easier to conjure up his scent.
“I wish I'd known him better.”
“Me too.” My father placed a hand on my shoulder, and he had a faraway look in his eyes. “I failed you, Asher. I should have seen what my mate was and protected you. Or better yet, never allowed him into our lives.”
I thought back to the conversation with Zach. I’d wanted to confront Father about his shortcomings, but while he, like me, wasn’t human, we were all fallible when it came to trusting someone.
“But I'm grateful for the chance to know my son as a man.”
Returning to the den was a dizzy circle of hazy memories and tearful truth-telling, but before I could wipe away the wetness on my cheeks, the phone buzzed. Service was spotty here, but Weston’s name appeared on the display. Knowing I was with Father today, he said he’d only call in an emergency.
“Weston, what is it?”
“Don't panic.” That’s exactly what I was doing. “But I'm pretty sure I'm in labor.”
“Oh my gods.” I had to get home, but I was a ways away from my truck.
“Contractions started about an hour ago, and they're getting closer together. Ouch! That was a strong one.”
I was already jogging back toward where we'd parked the truck. My father kept pace beside me. He must have caught the gist of what was happening.
“How far apart are they?” I kept my voice calm though I was anything but, and I didn’t want my mate to panic.
“Maybe five minutes? I tried to time them.” There was a pause and more panting. “Asher, I need you to come home.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Just breathe through the contractions like we practiced.”
Damn, maybe that was patronizing because he was the one who’d carried our baby and was now about to deliver our little one. I hesitated, wondering if I should remind him how to breathe, but Father took the phone away from me.
“Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.”
I didn’t know what to say. Father, the Alpha with a stern expression and demeanor, was telling my human mate what to do during a contraction.
“I’m coming, honey.”
I hung up and broke into a run and had the engine started before my father yelled that he’d tell everyone in the den.
“They’ll want to know when the baby arrives.”
I hit the gas and snow sprayed behind the truck as I tore down the bumpy road that led back toward town. The baby wasn’t due for another two weeks, but technically, my mate was full term.
When I pulled up in front of our small rented house on the edge of Bramble Woods, my tummy was jumbly and my palms were running rivers of sweat.
I burst through the front door. “Weston!”
He was sitting on the edge of the bed with one hand braced on his enormous belly and the other gripping the bedpost. His face was flushed and sweaty, and he was breathing through a contraction.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” He grimaced. “This is intense.”
I was about to ask if he wanted a doctor, but he must have anticipated what I was going to say. We’d had this argument many times during the pregnancy. While I thought a human should have a doctor attend the delivery, my mate insisted on giving birth the shifter way with only both parents present.
I’d given in, but now seeing him in so much pain, I regretted not having a doctor on call.
I squeezed his hand. “Okay. We can do this. How far apart are the contractions?”
“Three minutes maybe? I don't know, I lost track.” He beckoned for me to help him stand. “I need to walk.”
We paced slowly around the bedroom, and Weston leaned on me. We stopped every few minutes when another contraction took hold of him. I murmured encouragement, rubbed his back, and tried to remember everything I’d learned about supporting someone through labor.
Weston's contractions became more intense, but he was so strong and determined to do this his way, even though he was exhausted.
He leaned against me. “I hope I can do this.”
“You're doing it. And we're together. You and me and our baby, and we’ll meet them soon.”
“Soon better be very soon because I don't know how much more of this I can take.”
It was another hour before he got the urge to push. He was on the bed, propped up against pillows. I was behind him to support him when he bore down with a grunt.
“You're doing so well.”
He asked me to move so I could see the baby’s head emerging. There were many more pushes before the baby crowned, and I urged Weston to place a hand on the little one’s head. He wept and pushed harder until the shoulders emerged, and then our tiny girl slid into my arms.
“We have a daughter!” I sobbed along with our screaming baby as I handed her to Weston and placed her against his chest. “She's beautiful.”
She was so small with a head of dark hair. And when she wrapped one hand around my finger, I became a dad and fell hopelessly in love.
Weston kissed her. “I’m sorry your entrance was so dramatic.”
She must have recognized Weston’s voice because she quieted. I leaned in close and breathed in the scent of my family. Twenty years ago, I'd been left to die and been brought up by wolves. I believed I was an outsider in every world I inhabited.
But now, holding my mate and my daughter, I finally understood. I was a bridge between the den and the pack. And this little girl in our arms would be a bridge too, between the human and shifter worlds.