Page 93 of Incompatible

And again, the call drops. Are we in some kind of dead zone where no signal reaches? I have no idea.

I finally look toward the pregnant omega.

Maybe I should try to help him too?

Luckily, I manage to open the door on Albert’s side.

He is covered in his husband’s blood. The question is whether he himself is injured.

With difficulty, I lean in and unbuckle his belt, grab him by the shoulders, and start dragging him out of the car.

The one good thing is that their car is electric, so there is little risk of an explosion, unless the battery goes, because with those you never know, they also explode or go into thermal runaway.

Even so, I want him away from the car so I can assess his condition.

I lay him on the grass, but I cannot calm down. My heart keeps pulling me back to Aiden. This is a stranger, and Aiden is my True Mate. I have to go back, I have to…

I return to the car and try again to open the door, but it is impossible. I yank on it again and again in frustration, even kick it, but another contraction rips through my stomach and makes me collapse to my knees. I lean against the door, panting, my belly hardening. I have too much experience with childbirth not to know exactly what is about to happen.

My child is going to be born out here in some godforsaken ravine on the side of a forested mountain, far from people, far from safety, and whatever happens, help will not come fast, but I have to try. Aiden could be bleeding internally. I have to help him.

I finally decide to go back around the car. I crawl toward the omega lying on the ground to look for his phone. Maybe it will catch a stronger signal. I search his pockets and find his wallet. Out of habit, I look inside, and behind the plastic window I see his ID.

Albert Strada.

I set the wallet aside and keep searching. In the inner pocket of his coat, I finally find his phone.

But it is even worse. His is a different model than mine, and it does not pick up even a single bar.

I curse in frustration and want to return to Aiden, but then I hear a faint moan from the omega.

My eyes fall on his swollen belly, and I realize he is having contractions.

For Fate’s sake, not only am I in labor, but he is too!

Maybe his is premature; his belly is big, but you never know.

I am alone here. The only one conscious. In labor myself, and now this on top of it?

The urge to cry rises fast, but that has never been who I am. Giving up is not an option. My children are waiting for me at home, Aiden is unconscious, and something has to be done.

Even as another contraction steals my strength, I force myself back onto my feet. Inside the car, I reach into the pocket and grab Aiden’s phone. I have to try again.

It is the newest model. Maybe it can catch even a sliver of signal.

One bar shows. I try calling.

The call connects. Two rings. Then it drops.

Anger surges, sharp and violent, and for a second I want to throw the phone onto the ground, but somehow I manage to stop myself.

That is when I notice the trunk is slightly open. Moving along the side of the car, careful not to slip on the wet ground, I peer inside and spot a few things that could help, two blankets and a jacket.

There is also a small first-aid kit.

All that needs to be done is to spread it on the ground and roll the unconscious omega onto one of the blankets, which isn’t exactly easy.

One more thing. Both of our pants have to come off, mine and his, which is another challenge on top of that. Getting his off is manageable, but with my huge belly, pulling down my jeans is pure torture and awkward gymnastics.