Chapter Twenty
Noble
“I give up,” I said, sighing.
“What are we giving up on?” Oren asked. He had woken up only minutes before. His hair was ruffled, adorably so. He padded around the kitchen scratching various itches and looking for something to eat.
“I made that cheesy chicken spaghetti you like. And shepherd’s pie. And quiche. Garlic bread. Pea salad. Deviled eggs. It’s in there.” I waved my hand toward the stove and counter where the products of my industrious morning were displayed.
I didn’t even eat any of it. My stomach was off. If I wasn’t already about to pop with our child, I would’ve suspected morning sickness.
For the last week, the only things I could tolerate were cold foods. Smoothies. Salads. Pickled anything. Thank goodness I didn’t have swollen ankles. They might try to take away my pickles if I did.
“You’ve been busy.” Oren went straight for the spaghetti, and I had to look away while he dished up a plate.
Eeew.
“I have. I can’t sit still. They said that if I moved around more—walked a ton—that it might trigger labor.”
He leaned against the counter to eat instead of sitting across from me at the table. Smart man. “Is that what you’re giving up on? Forcing labor?”
I nodded. “He or she is going to come when they come. I’m exhausting myself trying all the things.” Rubbing my belly, I took in a long breath. That was harder lately too, breathing deeply.
“You exhausted me this morning too.”
“You didn’t seem to mind. Besides, the books said sex can trigger labor.”
Chuckling, he finished off his meal and reached for the coffeepot. With his strange hours as a club owner and lawyer, not to mention call-ins, we kept the coffee hot and ready twenty-four hours a day. It was like working at the convenience store again, but much better.
I didn’t mind making coffee for my mate one bit.
“Oh, and there’s brownie pudding.” I got up to get the baking dish and offer him some but when I stood, a big gush of water came from me. It rushed down my legs, and I braced my hands on the table. “Oren…”
Oren put his coffee down and darted over. “Your water broke.”
It took everything in me not to say, “no shit.” “Yes. It’s happening.”
“Okay.” This time, I looked at him. He was grinning ear to ear. Of course he was. He wasn’t about to push a baby out of his body. I’d be smiling too. “I’ll call the healer after we get you to the shower.”
We’d planned all of this. Water breaking. Shower. Bags were packed. Plans were made.
My heart sank. My wolf spoke to me. We wouldn’t make it to the birthing center. This baby was coming. Now.
“Hurry. I need to shower and tell…” I yelled out through the first contraction. My knees almost buckled and Oren caught me just in time. “Tell him to meet us here. We’re having this baby here. I’m having this baby at home.”
“Are you sure?”
The look I gave him said it all, at least, his reaction told me it did.
While I was in the shower, cleaning up, Oren stood outside. First, he called the healer and then he called some of the other owners. They knew we had a baby coming, so he needed to give them a heads-up.
I got out of the shower, and Oren helped me towel off while pain after pain ripped through me. Tearing me apart.
At some point, the pain was too great, and I gave over some of my consciousness to my wolf. Letting him take over.
The rest was all my animal. I recalled the healer coming into our living room. They set up blankets and towels on the floor.
I got onto them, crawled on hands and knees, and while Oren coaxed me on, I bore down and in some haze of rippling agony and fierce determination, I gave birth.
And then I collapsed onto my side.
The healer helped me deliver the afterbirth while Oren held the baby close to me and when I was ready, they were put on my chest.
“Boy or girl?” I asked. I was exhausted and felt like I would pass out at any second. Between the labor and all the labor-intensive things I’d done in the past two weeks, I was done, body and soul.
“It’s a girl. She’s perfect. Has your eyes and your nose.”
I looked down at our baby, and all my worries about life and birth and scarring and second chances fizzled away. Right here in my arms and next to me were the most important things in life.
Nothing else mattered.
“What’s her name?” the healer asked.
“Oh. We decided on Elizabeth. Libby for short. Right?” I looked up at Oren. Tears shone in his eyes.
“Yes, omega. Libby. A perfect name for a perfect girl.”