Page 7

Chapter 7

Zane

I remove my oxygen mask and helmet, running a hand through my sweat-dampened hair. The omega in front of me gasps, her green eyes going wide.

“Keys,” I repeat, trying to maintain my professional demeanor despite how adorable she is. “I need to get you to the hospital.”

“I need to go home.” She crosses her arms, wincing as another contraction hits.

“You’re in labor. Hospital. Now.”

“I can’t. I need an overnight bag.”

I shake my head.

“Nope. Take me home. My alphas will take me.” She emphasizes the plural, and I feel a stab of disappointment. She’s pregnant, so of course someone like her would have a pack.

“Fine.” I help her into the passenger seat of her car, catching another wave of her intoxicating scent. The scent I noticed on her when I picked her up from underneath the table. “Address?”

She directs me to an apartment complex a few minutes away, gripping the door handle through another contraction.

“Call your alphas,” I instruct as I drive.

She glares at me, then pulls out her phone. “Hey...yes, it’s happening. The baby is coming. I’ll be home in minutes, just pulling round the corner now.” She pauses dramatically and turns to me and smiles. “Okay, see you soon!”

I raise an eyebrow as I kill the engine outside of her apartment block.

The phone screen is black.

“They’ll be here any minute,” she announces with forced cheerfulness. “You can go now.”

“You didn’t actually call anyone, did you?”

“I...um...” Another contraction hits, and she doubles over.

“Tell me,” I growl, surprising not only her, but myself.

She slams her hand on the dashboard. “Okay, fine! I don’t have any alphas. Happy now? But I can handle this myself. I’ve watched plenty of YouTube videos about home births and—”

“Hospital. Now.” I start the car again.

“It’s too late,” she whispers, gripping the dashboard. “I have to have the baby at home.”

I grip the steering wheel tighter, fighting my inner alpha’s urge to protect her. “Where’s the baby daddy?”

Her face flushes crimson. “I...mmm…there isn’t one.”

“There must be a father.”

She stares out the window, hands clasped over her swollen belly. “There’s no father. I went to a wellness center during my heat and...sort of...accidentally on purpose got pregnant.”

“That’s illegal.” My voice comes out harsher than intended, and she flinches.

“I know that.” Her words wobble. “Why do you think I’ve been torturing myself by watching YouTube videos about childbirth? I couldn’t exactly walk into a hospital and announce I broke the law.”

“Why would you do something so dangerous?”

She lifts her hand and gestures at her face, copper hair falling in her eyes. “It’s alright for you, looking like that.” She turns her hand and points her finger at her face. “But look at me. I even bleached my hair for my heat so I’d look more desirable.” Her voice cracks. “I had my eyelashes extended. My eyebrows were perfect. I wore these pretty blue contacts—well, at least I did for an hour, but I couldn’t get away with the scratchiness.” Her shoulders drop. “You know that I even went to a make-up artist beforehand, but it slid off my face with the heat and by the time I got to the alpha I looked—”

“Do you breathe?”

She glances at me and sighs. “I just talk when I’m nervous. And you make me nervous.”

“Me?”

“Yes you. You’re this perfect specimen and I—” She pants. “You could be a model. I mean…you are really gorgeous.” Her eyes widen as mine narrow. “Sorry, I’m just gonna shut up now. I’m just babbling to stop me from feeling the pain.” Her cheeks flush pink as she rambles, and something in my chest tightens. “Anyway, that’s why you make me nervous.”

My chest aches at the pain in her voice. How can she not see herself? “You’re beautiful.”

Her head snaps toward me, green eyes wide with disbelief. “I’m not beautiful—Am I?”

The vulnerability in her question hits me like a punch to the gut. Here’s this incredible omega, about to bring life into the world all on her own, and she can’t see her own worth. Before I can respond, another contraction doubles her over, and she lets out a sharp cry.

“Hospital,” I say firmly. “No arguments.”

She nods, tears lacing her eyes. “I’m scared.”

“Get my phone from my jacket pocket.” I keep my eyes on the road while she fumbles in my pocket. “Call Miller. He’s my pack mate and a doctor. Put him on speaker.”

She whimpers as her fingers brush against my thigh as she retrieves the phone. Electricity zips through my body despite the fabric between her touch and my leg.

Focus, Zane.

She scans through the contact list, hitting Miller’s name.

The phone rings. And rings.

No answer.

“Shit.” I press harder on the gas pedal as she groans through another contraction. Her scent fills the car—strawberries, lime, and something else. My heart stops. It can’t be.

I thought I could smell her when I picked her up, but now the smell is more intense.

“I can handle this at home,” she insists between breaths.

“Not happening. I’m a fireman. I help people, not leave them in harm’s way. What if the baby needs medical attention?”

“But I’m scared.” Her voice is small, vulnerable.

We screech into the hospital parking lot. “Stay. In. The. Car.” The words come out as a growl.

She holds her belly in her palms. “You know that growly voice thing isn’t scary at all. It’s actually kind of hot.”

“Hot?”

Her eyes widen, and she clamps a hand over her mouth. “Oh god, did I say that out loud?”

I nod. “I take it your brain-to-mouth filter doesn’t work very well.”

She laughs. “Filter? What filter? I’m honestly fine, normally.” She glances at the ceiling. “Mostly. But around alphas I give up trying. I just word-vomit everything I’m thinking—and they run away screaming.”

She winces through another contraction. “See? I’m doing it again. This is why I’m single. At least I have my collection of romance novels featuring firemen. Which I probably shouldn’t mention to an actual fireman. And I’m still talking. God! Please stop me now.”

I can’t help but laugh. There’s something refreshingly honest about her rambling. “You’re not so bad.”

“Says the super hot fireman who probably has omegas throwing themselves at him daily.”

“Trust me, they don’t.” I touch my chest where the burns are hidden under my uniform. I think she noticed the smaller one by my ear but my neck, chest, and thigh. She’d run a mile if she saw those.

I hold out my hand for her to take it, and when she does, electricity skitters from her touch all the way to my toes.

She glances at the sky, her teeth dig in her lip, biting back the words I know she wants to blurt.

I position my hands carefully. One at her back, the other under her thighs and bend my knees, preparing to lift her.

“No, no, no! Put me down! I’ll break your back!” She flicks her hands, trying to push away from me. “I’m like a baby whale right now!”

I can’t help but laugh at her panicked expression. “A very cute baby whale.”

“Did you just call me cute? While I’m in labor?” She tilts her head to one side and considers me for a moment, then a beautiful smile slashes across her gorgeous face. “That’s...actually kind of sweet. But seriously, I’m heavy anyway, now I’m pregnant, I’m—” Her words cut off in a squeak as I lift her effortlessly from the car seat.

“Oh. My. God. You’re like...really strong. Like superhero strong. Not that I’ve been carried by superheroes. Or many men at all. Actually, no one’s carried me since I was ten and broke my ankle jumping off the swing set trying to prove I could fly and—” She grimaces.

“I’m an alpha,” I say simply, adjusting my grip.

“Oh, I know that.” Her eyes meet mine, something passing between us.

Her hand reaches up, fingers brushing the scarred skin on my neck. I flinch involuntarily, nearly missing a step.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, pulling her hand back.

Before I can respond, her face contorts with pain, and she curls into my chest.

“Argh! Another contraction! Ow!”

“Breathe through it,” I instruct, quickening my pace toward the emergency entrance. I spot a wheelchair just inside the doors and carefully lower her into it. “Nice and slow. In through your nose, out through your mouth. I’ll let the desk know you need a room.”

She grabs me by the wrist. “I don’t have a room booked. I told you I was doing this at home. I don’t have an alpha.”

I squeeze her hand, my heart racing at the fear in her eyes. “I’ll sort everything out. Trust me.”

“But what if they take my baby?” Her voice cracks. “I have to have an alpha present at the birth. I have—”

“Hey.” I crouch down beside her wheelchair, bringing myself to her eye level. The hospital’s harsh lights catch the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

My protective instincts surge. No one’s taking her baby. Not on my watch.

I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear. “I’m your alpha.”

She pulls back. Her eyes are wide with hope. “Really? We can do that. We can really do this together?” Her words tumble out in an excited rush. “Thank you so much! How can I ever repay you? My friend Harlow pretended she was in a pack when—”

I press my finger gently against her soft lips, silencing her rambling. “Please hush. Just for one minute.”

Her nose twitches as she inhales my fingertip before she nods against my finger. The gesture is so endearing, so innocent. My chest aches. Despite her being outgoing and chatty, I have a feeling it’s all bravado.

“What’s your full name?” I keep my voice gentle.

“Freya Rose.” She grips the wheelchair’s armrests, knuckles turning white.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-eight, just turned.” Another contraction hits, and she bites her lip to keep from crying out.

Seven years older than me.

“And who is your alpha?” I ask, needing to establish this clearly before we proceed.

A ripple runs down her throat as she swallows, and her eyes go big. “You?” There is definitely a question in that one word.

“That’s right. Me . Now let me deal with everything from now on.”

She nods, relief washing over her.

As I wheel Freya toward the reception desk, her scent makes my inner alpha pace and my heart thunders against my ribs.

I approach the desk.

The beta night shift nurse eyes my uniform, then glances at Freya’s swollen belly.

“My omega needs a delivery room,” I state. “We don’t have one booked.”

The nurse’s fingers fly across her keyboard. “Of course. I can do that for you. Right this way. Let me check on her first.”

She leads us to a side room where she checks Freya’s vitals. I hover nearby, fighting the urge to growl when Freya winces during the various checks.

“Everything looks stable, but your omega is five centimeters dilated,” the nurse says, making notes on her tablet. “I’ll arrange your delivery room.”

As soon as the door clicks shut, Freya releases a shaky breath. “Thank you. I can’t believe you’re doing this for me.”

I want to tell her I’m not doing it just for her. I don’t know what it is, but there is something inside me that needs to protect her, to make sure she and her baby are safe. But I stay silent, the words sticking in my throat.

She laughs. “Did I ask for your name?”

“Zane,” I tell her softly. “Zane Stone.”

“That’s a nice name.” She looks down at her hands. Her happy, chatty demeanor suddenly changes. “I’m sorry. I must seem really silly to you, rambling on like an idiot.”

“Don’t.” I touch her chin, lifting her face. “Don’t change who you are for me or anyone else.”

I kneel in front of her wheelchair, my heart pounding. “I’m not good at being an alpha, Freya. But I’ll be here for you.”

She bites her lip, her scent dimming. “It’s okay. I understand this is just for the hospital. Someone like you wouldn’t want someone like me outside of here. I mean, look at me. I’m a mess who got herself pregnant and can’t stop talking and—”

My chest tightens at her words. If only she knew it was me who wasn’t worthy of her. These scars, my damaged body. No omega will love that.

“I have a delivery suite ready for you,” the nurse says as she stands waiting at the door. “Follow me.”

The nurse helps Freya onto the bed, then checks to see how far she’s dilated. “This won’t be long at all,” she says as she adjusts the monitors before leaving us alone.

“When I said I’m not a good alpha, I mean it. I’ll never be enough for an omega.”

“What are you talking about?” She groans as another contraction hits and only when the pain subsides does Freya let out a small laugh. “You saved me from a fire. Then you brought me here. I’m a pregnant omega who is carrying another alpha’s child, and now you’re giving me something I’ve never had.” She swallows. “An alpha, even if it’s not forever and not real. You being here is enough. But it’s fine. You don’t have to make excuses so you don’t hurt me.”

The lost look in her eyes, the vulnerability in her voice, makes my chest ache. It really physically hurts to see her like this. Without thinking, I sit on the bed beside her and pull her into my arms. A purr rumbles through my chest as I hold her close.

“Oh.” She melts against me, her fingers gripping my uniform as she turns to me.

For a moment, we just stare at each other. Her green eyes lock with mine, and something shifts in the air between us.

And despite my external protestations, my inner alpha roars to life, demanding I protect this omega and her unborn child at all costs.