23. Arlo
23
ARLO
We were three weeks away from my due date.
I was on paternity leave and spent most of each day on the sofa watching soap operas or snoring, sometimes both at the same time, though Kalen said I couldn’t be asleep and watch TV.
I disagreed.
“Tonight’s a full moon.”
The full moon was significant to all shifters, I’d learned, and when possible, he preferred going to a vantage point and having the moonlight bathe his body.
“I’d love to go to my friend’s mountain where we had our first date.”
I snorted because he’d be going alone. I’d huffed and puffed more than the wolf in the children’s story, and now I was eight and half months’ pregnant. Even sitting in the car for long periods was uncomfortable.
“You should go.” I’d be on the couch or in bed waiting for him.
“But I’d like you with me, and the baby.”
Was he seriously suggesting I climb that steep slope? There had to be a miscommunication.
“Babe, I can’t. Waddling to the bathroom and back is all I can manage.”
He slapped a hand on his chest and laughed. “Love, did you think I was going to carry you? No, there’s a road so we can drive up.”
“What?” We could have driven on our first date, and I wouldn’t have been sweaty and freaked at the dark and unable to see an inch in front of my face?
“Oops. Sorry, but that first night I wanted you to experience the mountain with me. Remember the fireflies? And I said something good was coming.”
I was still peeved he hadn’t given me the option to walk or drive, but I had to admit, if we had driven, I couldn’t have appreciated the sights, the sounds, and scents as I sort of did when we hiked up.
“I don’t fancy sitting on the ground, though.”
Kalen took me in his arms. “I’ll take folding chairs and cushions, and we won’t stay long.” He stood behind me and massaged my shoulders.
My mate made hot chocolate and grabbed some snacks, and we left. I was ready to do something different other than staying on the couch. Today I’d been bored and had heaved my belly to one side and the other, not being able to get comfortable. And with little space left in my tummy, the baby was lodged under my ribs. Maybe getting fresh air and looking at the moon, plus drinking yummy chocolate, would help me sleep better tonight.
Kalen drove up the winding road which was on the opposite side of the mountain to the hiking trail. Maybe it was more of a hill ‘cause it didn’t take long to reach the top.
“This hill is an imposter, pretending to be a mountain.”
“Shh.” Kalen put a finger to his lips. “It might get annoyed with us and send a swarm of mosquitoes to nibble our flesh.”
Yuck! I hated mosquitoes almost as much as things that hid in the dark.
At the top, my mate set up the chairs and a table and covered my legs with a blanket. Now when the breeze rustled the trees, I thought of Princess and how she’d grow in the coming years and her late mom. A scurrying through the bushes had me imagining a rabbit rushing home to their burrow.
The moon peered at us over the trees, and I sent my mate a quick glance. His eyes were closed, and I scented not just Kalen but his lion. I’d never appreciated the moon until I’d mated, and I sent up a thank-you as the light spilled onto my belly.
A small pain stabbed at me, though it was more like a hug. It wrapped around me, and my back throbbed. I must have squeezed my mate’s hand because his eyes snapped open.
“Do you want to leave?”
“No.” That was a fib. With my free hand I was hugging a cushion and counting until the pain faded. “I’m fine.”
Kalen dropped to his knees in front of me. “I know you well enough, Arlo, to hear the distress in your voice.” He stood and held out a hand. “We’re going home.
“Ohhhh.” I was leaning back in the chair and couldn’t see beyond my belly. “Kalen, I either peed my pants or my water broke.” My mate said something, but a cramp gripped my belly. It felt like someone wringing out washing. Both ends of me were being twisted in different directions.
“Shoot. I’m sorry, love, I should never have suggested we come out tonight.” My mate fumbled for the key fob, but when he clicked it to unlock the car, he dropped it. That was so unlike him. As a shifter, he didn’t trip, stumble, or bungle.
Kalen was my rock. When I lost it, he calmed me. His arms wrapped around my body could chase away fear and anxiety. Now I had to be the grownup.
“My hand, babe. Take it.” His palm was damp, something else that was new. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t. We were on a hill that alleged it was a mountain and I was in labor. But I had to be strong for all three of us. Kalen, me, and the baby. Not the fake mountain. It was on its own.
“We have to drive home and I’ll deliver the baby there as we planned.” But these were the last words I got out. The next sound from my mouth was a screech, then a scream, grunts, and groans and finally a sigh as the contraction faded.
“Nope, change of plans. This baby wants out!”
“But we’re alone here with no modern amenities. I was supposed to give you ice cubes.” My mate would have no hair left if he continued to tug it.
“Silly, we’re not alone. Look up.” Perhaps it was my imagination, but the moon was brighter than before, and I was convinced she was shining for me, for us.
My mate fell to his knees. “How come you’re so smart?” He kissed my hand and helped me undress. After grabbing a blanket from the car—we went on a lot of picnics, so that blanket lived in his vehicle—he lay it on the soft grass and scattered the cushions around. He placed bottles of water and a towel on one side and helped me undress.
“Oh, here comes another one.” Kalen got behind me and took my hands. I dug my nails into his flesh and squeezed so hard, my shifter mate moaned. He tried to hide it, but it filtered into my mind that was drenched in pain.
My body was splitting in two, and I yelled to my mate to look after the baby if something happened to me. The cramping passed, and I wept. I’d had a handful of contractions, and I wasn’t coping. If this were a movie, I’d be yelling for drugs. Or I’d say I’d changed my mind and I’d come back tomorrow.
Kalen shuffled to my side. “You and I will bring up our baby. You have inner strength which is more powerful than anything I possess.”
I ruffled his tawny hair but another contraction took hold of me. Kalen panted with me, like we’d seen the omegas and their partners do in the birthing videos.
“Picture the baby being pushed with each contraction,” he whispered. “The pain brings our little one closer to us.”
Time blurred along with my vision, but even with my eyes closed, the moonlight danced on my eyelids, creating tiny flashes of light. Kalen, the baby, and I weren’t the only ones here. The moon was looking out for us.
The body of light appeared to be directly overhead when Kalen yelled he could see the baby’s head. I felt like a limp rag, but I had to get our baby out.
“What color’s the hair?”
“I’d say the same as mine.”
I was right.
With the moonbeams helping me and making up for my sapped energy, I groaned and pushed. Our little one’s shoulders were out according to Kalen, and soon after, he was holding the baby.
“A boy.”
Our son let out a loud cry, taking in his first breath, and I reached out for him as Kalen and I shared a kiss
“Hello.” I placed the baby’s ear over my heart. “You know this heartbeat.” Our little man calmed, and his fingers curled into fists. Kalen put a towel over our son and covered us both in part of the blanket before lying beside us.
“It might not have been what we planned, but giving birth under the moon was a unique experience for a human.” Having been enveloped in the moon’s embrace, I understood a little better why shifters revered the celestial body. Its power had rippled through me, and our son, and given me the strength to bring him into the world.
“Do we give him a name that honors the moon?” Kalen offered our son his finger and our little one grasped it.
“I think we should.”
“Lucian means moonlight.”
“Lucian.” Whatever the moon had transferred to me would be shared with our son, and he’d carry that with him forever.