Price
EIGHTEEN
“I’m not going.”
That was me telling Cam that I was sticking close to home now that his due date was less than two weeks from now.
I’d said it twice as my mate and I stood in the kitchen, and I placed my hands on his bump.
“You’re being ridiculous. It’s ten days, love. First babies are always late. You’re not turning down a gallery because the baby might come early.” He’d pushed me toward the door. “Go and hang your glass. I’ll be here when you get back, still with a bump and wishing I could see my feet.”
I made sure both our phones were charged before I headed up the coast to a gallery with the three-story lobby and a client who was expecting my piece—a flare of blown glass made to look like fire caught mid-leap—hung how he wanted it.
So I stood on the scaffold with my human crew and the phone in my back pocket, wishing I was at home.
My dragon couldn’t settle, saying we shouldn’t have come and Something doesn’t feel right.
If something was wrong, Cam would have phoned. Let me get this installation done and we can head home.
The phone rang at 2:15. I knew the exact time because I’d checked it for the tenth time five minutes earlier.
“Cam? What is it?”
“Okay, don’t panic.”
Had anyone ever not panicked when someone said that? I doubted it, and I was panicking times two thanks to my dragon.
“I’m fine. Everything is fine and as it should be.”
He was rambling, and I was off the scaffolding and heading toward the entrance before he spoke again.
“I’ve been having contractions since noon.” He took a breath. “They were teeny-tiny ones, but now I can’t really ignore them.”
Noon? That was over two hours ago. I wanted to yell why hadn’t he called earlier, but me losing it would be asshat behavior.
“I didn’t want to drag you back for nothing.” Cam took a breath and let it out slowly. I’d been with Allan when he’d done that on three separate occasions. “Oh, that one wasn’t little.”
“I’m on my way. Where are the kids?”
“Ledger’s on his way to get them. I told them I was tired. Don’t think Bea believed me, but she kissed my cheek and just marched the other two out the door.”
He took another breath. “How soon can you get here?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Huh? It’s an hour in the car.”
“Fifteen.”
I was almost out the door when the client said something about lighting. This guy was human, so I used the word husband and said he was in labor. He hurried me out as I said over my shoulder the team could take over the installation.
“It’s almost done.”
My car was in the gallery lot with the keys still in it, but I crossed the road to a small park. It was the middle of a hot day and there was no one around, but I ran toward a bunch of trees as I tossed off my shirt.
My beast and I wanted the same thing, to get home as quickly as we could, and wings were faster than wheels.
He tore through my clothes, spread those wings, and lifted off.
I didn’t give a damn if anyone saw us. The dragon community could use the usual excuses of weather balloon, military plane, maybe even a UFO if there was a problem.
I’d flown for many reasons, including pleasure and to forget a lousy day, but this was a first. My beast’s wings were hammering the air and below us, the coast was a blur of green and gray.
The wind screamed past my beast as all I could think of was getting home to my mate who was bringing our child into the world.
I thought about Allan giving birth to his beautiful babies, never imagining those little ones would become mine.
Faster, I begged my dragon as he drew closer to home. Cam needs me.
With the estate on the horizon, I expected my beast to slow and circle as he usually did, but he was still flying fast and he skidded over the ground, leaving marks on the lawn. Our dragon shifter neighbor was on his roof, and he shaded his eyes as we made the dramatic landing.
Ledger’s car wasn’t in the drive as I took my skin and raced inside the house, grabbing a pair of PJ pants from the laundry as I went.
I didn’t need to look for Cam. His whimpering reached me as I burst through the back door. That I didn’t like. My mate was in pain, and I couldn’t share it.
He was in the courtyard pushing himself forward and back on an exercise ball. I tore in and got on my knees.
“I’m home.”
CAM
“I’m home.”
Price put a hand on my back and matched my breathing.
“It hurts.” The cramping stopped, and I leaned on him.
“Pain before gain.”
“Huh?” I opened one eye. “You made that up. Isn’t it pain with a purpose?”
“Maybe.”
I kinda liked it because it was unique and it was ours.
I asked him to help me up, and he held me as I trundled around the courtyard.
The space wasn’t the best place to give birth, but as my labor progressed, I’d been concentrating on the babbling water in the fountain.
It soothed me and I didn’t feel so alone.
Being able to look up at the sky reassured me that omegas had been giving birth for thousands of years.
And when Price had arrived, I was able to see his dragon flying over the courtyard.
“Is this where you want to be?” my mate asked.
His brother had given birth in a clinic, but Ledger told me most shifters had their babies at home. I was an honorary shifter and my baby probably had a dragon inside him, so home was where I wanted our little one to enter the world.
“I’m not sure.” I clung to him as another contraction took hold. “Do these cramps have teeth? Because owww!” We panted together, and my body went limp when it was over.
“How did no one warn me how owie this would be?”
I recalled Ledger saying that it would hurt, but he’d emphasized that I’d have a baby at the end. Maybe that was the role of all omegas who’d given birth, so they didn’t scare anyone from getting pregnant.
We wandered up and down the hall, stopping and starting according to the contractions, and I mumbled, “Pain before gain,” until it was running in a loop in my head.
“What do you think the baby’s thinking?” I had my back to Price, and his arms were wrapped around me and rubbing the bump.
“‘It’s very squishy in here?’ or ‘I wonder where this leads to?’ or ‘Can someone turn on a light?’”
That tickled me, and I grinned, but it became a snicker and then laughter, and I bent forward. “Owww. Don’t make me laugh.”
I turned around and whacked his arm, but his lopsided smile told me he was trying to take my mind off the pain.
“Bedroom.” When the children were home, it was our sanctuary from the pandemonium that was the rest of the house. “This is where we wake up together and where our baby should be born.”
We’d prepared plastic sheeting, old towels, and sheets, and Price covered the bed, but I wasn’t ready to push. We paced more, and he put on our playlist. He bopped around making me laugh again, but when he held out his hand, I hesitated before letting him pull me into his arms.
“I’ve heard this can help with labor.” He wriggled his hips and shimmied across the floor.
“If the baby can see you, they’ll turn around and say, ‘Those people are weird. Get me another family.’” But I couldn’t stifle my laughter.
“And I say to that, who wants a boring family?” Price had his arms in the air as he spun over the carpet. “Embrace the chaos.”
“What would Bea say if she were here?” I asked.
Price made a Bea-like face. “Observe the adults. They are dancing. The little one refuses to comment.”
A sharp pain wrapped around my belly, and Price grabbed me as I bent forward.
“It’s time. I need to push.”
Price asked if I needed to be on the bed, and I did, but I wanted him behind me. But then he couldn’t see the baby being born. My head was muddled as instinct took over and I needed to get our little one out.
“A mirror.” He grabbed our floor-length one and wheeled it to the bottom of the bed.
With Price behind and me between his legs, I leaned forward and pushed. But nothing happened. There was no baby, and I fell back and Price dabbed my damp brow with a cloth.
“Again.” Oh gods, I was being ripped apart. How big was this baby?
“You’re doing great, my love.”
He was here, talking me through the contractions and pushing, and though he couldn’t bear my physical pain, he kept up a steady stream of “That’s it,” “You’ve got this,” and “One more.” His lips were at my ear and his hands never left me.
When I gasped that I couldn't do this, he said, “You already are.”
“Oh my gods, it hurts.” I panted as another contraction passed and no baby. “And again.” I screamed as I gave it everything, all my energy, stamina, and strength.
“Cam, look.”
Sweat dripped into my eyes as I squinted at where my mate was pointing.
“The baby’s head. Our little one’s almost here.”
The next however many minutes or hours blurred. Pain, pushing, and panting.
“The baby’s head is out.”
Okay, okay, I was getting there. I pushed again as Price relayed my progress.
“Now the shoulders.”
One last push and I was done. There was crying, but it wasn’t from me. I raised my head and both our little one and my mate were sobbing.
But as Price’s crying faded, he cooed at the little red-faced bundle before placing the baby on my chest. “We have a son.”
The baby’s hair was plastered to his forehead, and I pushed it away. At my touch, he opened his eyes and looked up at me. I kissed his nose and cheek as I held his warm, slippery body.
“Welcome to this far-from-normal family. I hope you’re ready for this.”
Price snuggled beside me and slung an arm over both of us. “Embrace the chaos, little man.”
Hours later, the children arrived home. Jack had a present, his plastic wings, minus the batteries, but said he’d look after them until the baby was old enough. Bea and Isla lay on either side of me on the bed, counting their baby brother’s toes and fingers.
I looked around the bed at my dragon shifter, our four kids with the newest one asleep on my chest, and thought of the man I was who’d wandered into the wrong house. He’d never have believed this, and some days, I still didn’t.