Chapter 51
51
brIAR
“You’re here!” Alicia shouts behind the front desk.
Similar to me, she’s dressed unlike how she normally would at work.
In cases like this, that’s the only acceptable uniform.
In every other case, we’re working within normal hours and fully prepared for deliveries.
Today is the exception.
“I’m here. Did Clover tell you what I needed?”
She pushes a bag toward the edge of the desk and nods.
“It’s all in there. Are you sure you can do this, though?”
“Thank you. Is Clover in the delivery room?”
The beta doesn’t mention my lack of answer to her question when she responds to mine.
“Room three. I think Sadie’s been trying to delay the delivery until you got here.”
“Crap. Can you let Clo know I’m just getting changed? I’ll be there in a minute.”
“You got it.”
She scampers off down the hall to the delivery room while I go to the bathroom and strip out of the thick jersey and soiled underwear.
A pair of Clover’s pink scrubs are in the bag, and I already know they’ll fit like a glove.
The extra-thick panties she added have me breathing a sigh of relief.
My reflection in the mirror is scary.
It’s not often that I’ll be up for the task of staring at myself during one of my heats, and maybe that’s a good thing.
The woman looking back at me right now isn’t who I usually am.
This one has red cheeks and ears, dilated pupils, and baby hairs sticking to the sweat on my forehead and throat.
I’m a mess. And it’s only going to get worse.
I run the tap with ice-cold water and splash it on my face.
My chest seizes at the temperature as I gasp and squeeze my eyes shut.
The pulse between my legs ramps up.
My hands are slippery around the basin of the sink, but I only hold it tighter, rubbing my thighs together.
The scrubs Clover grabbed me are a light, soft material.
They don’t scratch at my sensitive skin yet.
My pack’s scents are fading from my nose and hair.
I ache so deep in my chest I fear it will always be this way.
That’s my emotions running rampant, damaging every pillar of confidence I’ve built with them so far.
Everything will be better when we’re together again.
I dry my face with a paper towel before leaving the bathroom.
The bonds in my chest tug, attempting to pull me back through to the exit and to where my alphas and beta are waiting, ready to take me home.
I can’t think of anything better, but it’s not time yet.
The moment I knock on the delivery room door and step inside, my heat is the last of my concerns.
Clover looks over at me from her place at the end of the bed, and her expression visibly relaxes a bit.
“Finally. She’s almost ten centimetres dilated.”
“Already?”
I rush to Sadie’s side and immediately pull her hair back behind her shoulders.
Every boundary and plan we’ve discussed before today comes barrelling into my mind.
I push myself into motion.
She’s crying as she snatches my hand and uses a python grip to keep me at her side.
There are no chemicals in the air here due to not wanting to block any sort of scent bond between mom and baby after delivery, so it only takes a second of me being here for her to smell the chance in my scent and snap a look up at me.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she snaps, pain thick in her voice.
“Go home, you crazy woman!”
“I’m not going to do that. I’m okay. This is your day, Sadie.”
“Briar’s right. Focus on you and baby. She can handle herself,” Clover says, making sure I see the pride in her expression before she returns her focus to her work.
Tish, one of the two labour and delivery nurses we call on from the local hospital, stands beside Clover, waiting for direction.
Sadie hisses a breath and shifts on the bed, unable to get away with her legs spread so wide.
“It hurts.”
“I know. Your contractions are about two minutes apart now. If you want to get into your birthing position, I’ll work around you,” Clover instructs, snapping off her gloves and moving with a calm knowledge that never fails to help calm a patient.
I pull my hand out of Sadie’s and help her flip on the bed.
“Is this still how you want to push?”
“Yes. Just don’t let me collapse. My arms feel like noodles.”
“I’ve got you,” I promise, stabilizing her with an arm around her shoulders.
“I’m going to check baby girl’s heart rate, and then we’re going to start pushing,” Clover announces.
She settles at Sadie’s other side and uses a handheld Doppler to catch the quick but steady beat of the baby’s heart.
Sadie sobs when she hears it, and I rub her back, trying to soothe her enough to focus through the emotions.
It’s usually not hard for me to keep professional during these situations, but a beat later, I break too.
A cramp tears through my belly, and I bury my teeth in my lip to stifle my cries.
My core clamps around nothing, and slick fills my panties, the pulse between my legs strong enough to rock me.
Every breath I take burns my throat.
I force my fingers to straighten before I can permanently dent Sadie’s shoulder with them.
“Alright. Baby is happy and excited to come out and see the world. When your next contraction hits, I need you to push,” Clover says, settling on the bed behind Sadie.
She’s used to this birthing position by now and falls into habit.
With pink gloves on her hands that match the scrubs we’re both wearing, she pats Sadie’s lower back and guides her into a lower squat.
My tongue bleeds from how hard I bite down on it to keep quiet.
There’s a shake in my hands while I gather Sadie’s hair into a ponytail and use the cold cloth already laid out for me to wipe her forehead.
“Fuck!” Sadie screams while holding on to the bed rail.
“I’m pushing now!”
“Listen to your body and do what you need to. We’re here for you. You’re taken care of,” I soothe, speaking to both her and me.
For the next fifteen minutes, that’s exactly what she does.
With sweat dripping down into her drowsy eyes and weak, shaking legs hardly keeping her upright, she gives birth to a six-pound baby girl with a rock star set of lungs.
The baby’s cries are loud enough that I’m sure the men outside can hear while Clover cleans her off and I help Sadie onto her back.
The new mom catches her breath between soft, hiccupped sobs and eagerly takes the baby from Clover when she hands her over.
“She’s beautiful. You focus on her while I finish up,” Clo says before delivering an order to Trish for some more supplies.
Sadie’s only paying half attention to her.
Most of it stays on her daughter.
I take a step back and watch her kiss the baby girl’s forehead and cheeks.
She’s holding on to her tight, like she’s scared somebody is going to come in and try to take her from her arms.
It won’t happen.
Not ever.
As things settle, so does the adrenaline that was pumping through me.
The fall is torture.
Second by second, I’m reintroduced to the pain in my stomach and the tightness in my lungs.
It’s like swimming in battery acid, every inch of my skin burning.
I can hardly swallow through the pain.
“Leave, Briar,” Clover snaps from between Sadie’s legs.
I’ve learned not to look at what she does after a delivery.
Medical school wasn’t for me eight years ago, and it still isn’t now.
“I can’t.”
“What else do you need to do right now that I can’t? You’re in heat and being careless with your body. Go home with your pack.”
“This is my job. I’m going to be here until the end,” I argue.
Shit, I’m lightheaded now.
The lack of full breaths is sending my lungs into an outrage.
“I’m calling Duke. Sadie, I need you to keep your focus on baby, alright? Briar’s in heat, and I need to get her out of here before she passes out on me.”
I shake my head furiously.
“Dash. Send Dash in.”
A wall meets my back before I slump forward over my knees.
The pain isn’t just a warning anymore.
It’s punishment for not listening to its demands earlier.
I slide down the wall, hitting the floor hard and slipping in and out of consciousness as the pain throttles me.
The moment is still so beautiful.
So monumental to the people here in this room, and I can’t make myself regret being a part of it.
DASH
Duke would have knocked Landon out by now if he could get away with it.
He knows just as well as we do that it wouldn’t be one of us currently out here or Clover that would have his ass.
It would be Briar.
That doesn’t stop him from continuing to snap orders at him, though.
Our pack leader is struggling right now, and he’s taking it out on Duke and the team, who were the ones hired to be here today.
“I’m just asking if you’ve got someone on the back door,” Landon barks.
Duke tightens his jaw.
“It’s not your business if I do.”
“My omega’s inside this clinic, so yeah, it’s my business.”
“Do you think I’m a fool? I’ve had the back door covered longer than we’ve been at the front.”
“That wasn’t so hard to tell me, was it?”
“Leave it, Landon,” Jasper says, trying to pull him back to our group.
Landon allows him to, but only so he can get close enough for us to hear his low voice.
“She’s been in there for too long without us.”
“She’s our omega. She’s got this,” Ronan declares.
“She’s also in heat. And has been for hours now. Any longer without us and she’s going to be in too much pain.”
My stomach turns.
I know what he’s saying, and I’m struggling to keep myself composed for much longer.
One look at Jasper and I know he’s in the same boat.
Ronan’s beyond pretending to be okay.
He might be speaking words of confidence, but it’s obvious that’s for Landon’s benefit.
“You can’t go inside,” Duke says, only adding fuel to the fire.
Landon snarls, charging in his direction.
“Tell me what I can and can’t do with my omega again.”
Jasper steps between them and shoves at Landon’s chest. “Don’t. This isn’t what Briar wants from us right now. You heard her earlier. Only Dash.”
“So go inside!” The command is close to tipping over into a bark.
It would have been the first time Landon’s ever used his true bark on me.
Wide-eyed, Jasper shakes his head.
“No. Not unless he’s asked to.”
“You might have gotten lucky,” Duke mutters.
The four of us spin in his direction.
Ronan speaks first.
“What does that mean?”
Duke pockets his phone.
“Clover told me to send Dash inside. Briar needs him.”
“What’s wrong?” Landon asks, rubbing at the centre of his chest.
I stare at him.
“I’ll find out.”
His expression shudders as he forces himself to nod.
“Quickly.”
“I’m good to go in, then?” I ask Duke.
“Don’t go inside the room unless Clover explicitly tells you to. Knock on the door first. The receptionist will take you back,” he explains, clearly unimpressed with this decision.
“Got it.” I’m coming, Bright Eyes.