Page 378 of Alpha Mates

“Have you taken any medication in the past eight hours?” another asks.

“No.”

“Have you drunk any liquids in the past two hours?” someone else asks while a gown is tugged overhead.

“It’s three o’clock in the fucking morning, what do you think?!” I growl, feeling my eyes glow as they back away a little.

“Hey, they’re just trying to help,” Aiden says, pulling my chin to look at him. “Breathe, baby. Breathe.”

“What do you think I’m doing?!” I growl at him and Aiden squeaks. I glance at Levi, and it takes only one look at those frightened eyes for me to curb the panic. “I’m fine, so perfectly fine.”

I keep repeating the lie until I’m settled onto a bed and rolled back out into the halls. I spot Isabel, Kat, Emitt, and Beckett, all running in from the other direction and thank the heavens for them.

“Levi,” I call, and he’s at my side in a second. “I want you to do something that will help me so so much.”

“Anything,” he whispers, eager to help.

“I need you to stay with them while we get your baby brother, okay? That way, I’ll know you’re okay and won’t worry.”

Levi’s face crumples, but he forces himself to nod as he wipes away his disappointment and replaces it with determination. “Okay.”

“Good boy,” I say with a wavy smile before I turn the other way to let out a scream.

“Okay, we need to get you on the table now,” someone shouts before we’re rolling ahead.

I spot Aiden tugging on a surgical suit and Levi running towards Emitt and Beckett before I’m rolled into the operation room, and holy fuck … I’m about to have a baby

“Can you make sure he gets an innie?” Aiden asks, disturbing the perfect quiet. “I struggle through life with an outie, and I wouldn’t want anyone to live that way.”

“Aiden,” I grind out while I look at him. “Shut up.”

“No, talking is good,” the healer at my side says. “It makes the experience more positive.”

“Him talking about our child’s belly button isn’t really making this more positive for me,” I reply tightly, and Aiden’s eyebrows almost touch his surgical cap.

“You’re doing great,” he says, switching gears as he comes closer so he’s all I can see, rather than the people operating on me and opening me up.

“I’m not doing anything,” I reply a little hazily. “I’m just lying here while they get the baby.”

“And you’re doing great,” Aiden says, nodding to himself as his eyes wander down. They barely settle before he frowns.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, my insides cramping with fear.

“Nothing. Nothing,” he soothes as he brings his eyes back to me. “I just thought I saw a bee.”

“A bee?” I squeak.

“No bee. We are almost …” a healer says, and I hold my breath before he finally says, “there.”

The sound of a baby crying fills the air, allowing my first real breath since we rushed out of our place this evening while my heart races a mile a minute. My fingers itch, desperate to touch, to hold, to see.

“Here’s your baby boy.” They hand the swaddled baby to Aiden, and my heart aches and fills all at once as I watch tears spill from his eyes.

Our pup cries in his arms, and I make a desperate sound. Aiden quickly lowers himself, leaning down so that I can see him. I spot a leg, a hand, and my tears spill long before I lay eyes on my son as he squirms in Aiden’s arms.

His tiny face is scrunched tight, and he won’t stop screaming, but that’s a good sign. He’s here, whole and healthy.

“He’s so beautiful,” I cry as a wobbly smile pulls my lips apart.