Chapter 15
TUCKER
After I got Misha home from the farmer’s market, I made sure he ate something, then tucked him into bed. His baby bump made it uncomfortable for him to sleep, so I’d bought him this fancy body pillow that kind of wrapped around him. The second he was curled around the pillow, he was out.
And he slept all the way through the night.
When he told me he was too tired to eat when I tried to wake him up for dinner, I started to get worried, so I gave Archie a call.
One of the perks of small-town life was having the town doctor’s personal cell phone number because you were both his friend and his patient.
Archie picked up on the second ring. “Tucker? Is everything okay?”
I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to keep my feelings locked down. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, tell me what’s going on.” Archie’s smooth, slightly accented voice soothed me the tiniest bit, and I told him what had happened at the market and the fact that Misha was so exhausted he didn’t want to eat.
“Ah. There’s nothing to worry about. It sounds like Misha’s body is conserving energy for the birth. I would be very surprised if your kits don’t make their appearance very, very soon.”
“Soon? Like in two weeks, right? When they’re due?”
Archie laughed softly. “Oh, no. I would say closer to two days.”
“Two days! Two. Days. But that means they’ll be early. Is that safe? Will they be okay?”
“I have no doubt everything will be just fine, but if you are concerned, call me anytime.”
I couldn’t tell you anything about the rest of our conversation because my mind had stopped processing when Archie said Misha would be giving birth to our babies in days.
Days.
We weren’t ready.
We’d bought everything for the nursery, but since I’d been finishing the forest mural, we hadn’t set anything up yet. There were cribs to build, though we wouldn’t need them for at least six months, and we had the floor nests to set up. There was so much to do. And now we were almost out of time.
And what about what Misha needed?
He would give birth in his arctic hare form, but what would he need?
I was starting to spiral. I needed a list. My tablet and stylus were on the coffee table so I snatched them up and started making notes right over the new designs I was working on for a Friday the 13th flash event.
Once I had everything written down, I felt better.
Now I just had to start crossing things off.
The sun was rising as I finished setting out the last floor nest. I’d built all three cribs, rolled out the area rug, cleaned all the bottles we would use to feed the kits before their first shifts, and washed and folded all the baby clothes we’d bought.
Again, we wouldn’t need them right away, but I had a feeling once the babies were born, time was going to fly.
I had also gathered everything I could think of that Misha might need.
I had no idea where he planned to give birth, but I had a stack of soft towels and a pile of blankets ready to go.
I had tracked down a hot water bottle and cut up veggies and fruit for a snack.
I knew from our prior conversations that Misha only ate fruits and vegetables in his shifted form, and I wanted to make sure he had something to eat if he didn’t shift back right after the births.
My eyes were gritty, and I was exhausted, but I’d managed to cross everything off my to-do list. The nursery was finished.
We were officially ready for our babies.
I’d called Paige around midnight and told her I wouldn’t be in.
She was going to reschedule my only client.
For now, I planned to crawl into bed next to my mate and sleep.
But when I got into our room, Misha wasn’t there.
At least not Misha in his human form. A very pregnant arctic hare was curled up in the middle of Misha’s pregnancy pillow, surrounded by Misha’s pajamas and looking at me with big blue eyes.
I could feel Misha through our mate bond, though it felt different when one of us was in our animal form, and I sensed a little bit of panic and a little bit of pain from his side of the bond.
I reached out and gently petted a hand over his thick, soft fur.
He was trembling slightly, but I pushed contentment and safety through our bond, and he seemed to relax a little.
“I guess it’s time, huh?” Misha blinked once, then lifted himself enough to put his front paws on top of the pillow. I knew without words what he wanted and I very carefully lifted him out of the pillow and set him on the mattress. He immediately began pulling at the pillow with his teeth.
“Should I take this with us?”
He tugged at the pillow again, and I picked it up, folding the contours over my shoulder.
Misha moved to the edge of the mattress and looked down, and I scooped him into my arms. He immediately settled against my chest making a noise that sounded a little like a purr.
I held him for a moment, wincing as his body went taught and a wave of pain moved through our bond.
He must be having contractions. When the worst seemed to have passed, I bent slowly, moving to set Misha on the ground, but he batted at my arm with his paws.
“Okay. You don’t want me to put you down here. Where do you want to go?”
He turned toward our door, and I moved out into the hallway.
I had a feeling I knew where he wanted to be, and I took us down the hall to the nursery.
When I bent to set Misha on the floor in the middle of the area rug, he waddled out of my arms and turned in a slow circle like he was taking everything in.
He crawled slowly toward the floor nests that I’d set up in a semicircle and placed a paw on each one, then he looked at me.
Joy pulsed through our mate connection, and even though no words had been spoken, knowing I’d made my mate happy made me feel a hundred feet tall.
I sat down on the floor in front of him and held out my hand. He gave me his paw and settled against my leg, and I stroked his soft fur until he purred again.
“I got nervous when you wouldn’t eat last night, so I called Archie. He said you were probably closer to giving birth than we’d estimated, so I finished everything we had left to do.” Misha rubbed his head against my thigh. “Oh, speaking of. I’ll be right back.”
I hustled to the kitchen and grabbed the fruit and veggies I’d cut up, opening the shallow containers and setting them in front of my mate. He turned away from the containers, and I picked them up and set them on top of the dresser. “We’ll save these for later, then.”
Misha closed his eyes, and I felt another dull wave of pain. This time, the contraction lasted longer, Misha’s body going tense and tight.
“I wish I could make this easier for you, baby, but you’re already doing so well.”
When Misha relaxed again, I picked up the stack of towels and blankets I’d collected and the pregnancy pillow from where I’d dropped it when we got to the nursery, and I set them on the floor within Misha’s reach.
He hopped over to the pile and began nosing at it, dragging towels and blankets into the circle made by the pillow.
When he stopped for another contraction, I moved the towel where I thought he wanted it, and when he was able to move again, he positioned it just right.
Things went on like this until the entire pillow was covered with soft towels and cozy blankets and there was a shallow hollow in the middle.
Misha crawled into the hollow, walked in a circle, and settled down.
For a while, nothing much happened, then Misha stood and started pacing the hollow, tugging at the blankets and nosing at the perimeter of the pillow.
Then he stopped, a wave of pain rolling through him as he squatted on his hind legs and pushed.
A few seconds later, a fluffy white ball of fluff landed on the blanket, blinking in the sudden brightness.
I jumped to my feet and pulled the curtains closed, blocking out the morning sun so the room was dim.
I still needed to be able to see Misha in case something went wrong, so I turned on the little table lamp next to the rocking chair.
The room felt cozy, and the first of our tiny little ones hopped a few paces away from Misha, tucking themself against the soft edge of the nest. Misha started pacing again, but this time when he stopped, I knew what was coming.
Moments later, another white ball of fluff landed in the blanket nest. This one hopped over to their sibling, and snuggled in close.
Misha moved toward them, nosing at them and settling beside them.
He was panting, and I could tell he was tired, but he still had one more baby to go.
“Look what you’ve done, my love! Our babies are perfect.” I rubbed my hand over his ears, and he closed his eyes, pushing up into my touch. “You can do this, Misha. You are so close.”
Another contraction rolled through him, and I knew it was the largest kit that had yet to make their appearance.
If I could have helped, if I could have taken away the pain, I would have in a heartbeat, but I also knew my mate was strong and he could do this—for himself and for our family.
Panting and clearly uncomfortable, Misha stood and paced the nest again.
Every few minutes he would squat and push, but nothing happened.
I was starting to worry again as I felt Misha’s energy flagging through our bond.
I knew he was tired, but he wasn’t in distress, so I did all I could to encourage him, rubbing his ears and his back when he came close, looking for my touch and giving him space when he needed it.
Finally, Misha whined and arched his back, and I gritted my teeth against the pain I felt from his side of our connection.
Sweat broke out on my forehead as I whispered words of encouragement to my perfect mate, and after a few long minutes of agony that felt more like an hour, the last of our babies was born.
But this one wasn’t a sweet little ball of white fluff.
This one was a tiny dark gray porcupette with soft black and white quills.
They were a little less steady on their feet than their arctic hare siblings, and Misha nudged them forward gently.
They snuggled down next to the other two babies, and my heart felt like it was going to burst. Our babies were perfect.
They were beautiful, and my mate had done an amazing job bringing them into the world.
I wiped tears of joy from my cheeks as I grabbed the fruit and veggie containers and set them in the nest on the opposite side from where my family dozed.
Then I stripped off my clothes, leaving them in a haphazard pile on the floor and called my animal side forward, until I’d taken my porcupine form.
I climbed into the nest, and carefully curled myself around my mate and our sweet children.
With my nose tucked against Misha’s warm fur, I listened to the small, impossible sounds of our babies between us—two tiny heartbeats quick and light like Misha’s and one slower and steady like mine.
And they were all ours. Pieces of my mate and me.
A year ago, love felt like a risk I’d take with my teeth bared, but as Misha’s tired eyes met mine with that same fierce sense of freedom that had made me fall for him in the first place, I couldn’t imagine anything better than this moment with my mate and my family.
I pressed my nose to each of our babies in turn, marking them with my scent and letting them take in mine while I made a silent, wordless promise to always be their shelter and their shield, and as I curled my body around my mate and our newborns, I understood that this wasn’t the end of our story at all.
It was the first breath of everything still to come.