Page 76 of I Scented My Mate On The Day I Agreed To Marry A Stranger

“Thank you.” He stood up, the contraction over. “Thank you so much.”

“A daddy needs to give birth the way he needs to give birth.” The nurse gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad it was only housekeeping that was keeping you from your birth plan. Cleaning is fixable. Speaking of a birth-plan, how about you tell me the rest of yours while you are somewhat comfortable.”

After Heston explained his goals and desires, she got him settled into the room. He opted to walk around for a while, not wanting to get into the water just yet. He’d read somewhere in one of his omega groups that walking sped up labor. The nurse smiled and I had a feeling it wasn’t actually a thing, but I wasn’t going to argue. Heston was the one pushing out two babies, not me.

“Can you help me into the water?” A few hours had passed from the time we walked in for cake, his labor progressing nicely.

His request was punctuated by a sharp intake of breath as another contraction began. The nurse and I flanked him while he rode out it out. As he settled in, relief washed over his face. He was getting the birth he wanted.

The contractions soon returned with renewed vigor, cresting closer and closer together. Heston’s grip on my hand tightened, his knuckles whitening with each wave of intensity. Both the nurse and I encouraged and praised him, and she was at the ready in case he needed anything more than that.

“I’m excited,” he admitted between breaths, “but scared.”

“Scared but strong,” I kissed his brow. “You’re doing beautifully.”

Far better than I could do. He was strong beyond measure.

Time was weird when he was in labor. The time between contractions seemed non-existent and when he was in pain, it was never ending. It was such a relief when the nurse announced, “Almost there, Heston.” She got up to message the doctor and rejoined us. We’d been through this process before, but never had a nurse who was this dedicated. It made a huge difference.

The doctor arrived in time for Heston to start pushing. I held his hand, locked my eyes on his, and tried to give him every ounce of strength that I had.

Our daughter, Priscilla, joined the world first, followed shortly by our son, Stewart, both healthy and hungry and by far the cutest beings I’d ever seen. Of course I thought that of all our children. I was possibly a little biased.

“Hello, my beautiful ones,” Heston cooed.

As the nurse cleaned, measured, and bundled up our little ones, I helped my mate out of the water. He insisted on being warm and dry so he could snuggle with them both. And after he settled into bed, with me ar his side, the nurse helped place them both on his chest so that they could latch on at the same time.

“Everything is perfect,” Heston murmured, his gaze lingering on the peaceful faces of our twins. Their tiny hands clutched aimlessly in the air before resting against us as they fed.

“More than perfect.” I kissed his cheek. “Just like you.”

We basked in the wonder of becoming fathers again, this time to not one, but two little ones. Our older children came in with their grandparents the next morning, excited to meet their siblings and as I looked around the room, I wondered if there had ever been a space as filled with love as this one.