Page 66 of Mikhail

“Mik.” Rowan’s voice so small that it had him back in control immediately.

All Mikhail could think about was making sure his mate knew everything would be fine, that he was there for him.

“Baby, I know this is not how we planned it, but you know what? Our little one wants to meet us a few days early, right? So just relax while papa and I take care of you.”

Rowan nodded, his eyes full of trust, and he just wanted to hold Rowan tight in his arms.

Mik took Rowan’s hand in his and his mate held on tightly to his. He saw the fear in Rowan’s eyes, and Mik did his best to be strong for him.

“You’re going to be fine,” Mikhail whispered, “I’m here, and I will never let anything happen to you,”

He brushed a kiss along Ro’s lips and tried not to breathe in, so that the scent of Rowan’s blood wouldn’t fill his nose.

He focused on the fact that soon they would have a little pup of their own.

“I love you,” Ro whispered weakly.

Mik smiled. “I love you, too.”

Their gazes held until he saw that the tension in Rowan’s eyes had lessened.

A squawking cry filled the room, and they both looked in the direction it came from. Mik’s eyes teared up as his papa held up the vernix-covered baby.

“Congratulations, sons! It’s a boy!” His papa handed the baby to Malek, who had a towel waiting.

“Mikhail, son, do you want to cut the cord?” Cameron asked.

Mik looked at his mate, and Rowan nodded and smiled at him. He lowered his lips to Rowan, pouring everything he couldn’t put in words about this moment into that kiss.

Mikhail broke the kiss and hurried over to his papa’s side where his dad handed him the scissors, and he cut the section of the cord between the two clamps. Immediately after, Axel whisked their son off to clean him up.

Mikhail was about to return to Rowan’s side, but in a raspy, tired voice, Ro said, “Go take care of our son.”

Mik went over and took over their newborn from Axel, clearing the lung fluid and mucus from his son’s nose, mouth, and throat, and Mikhail couldn’t help counting his son’s ten perfect fingers and toes.

“He’s perfect, babe.” Mik’s voice shook. “Just beautiful.”

Mik put a hat on their son’s head before taking his weight and length and then did the Apgar test. He took the temperature, heart, and respiratory rate—and found he was perfect—Mik wrapped their son in a clean blanket before carrying him over to Rowan.

He placed their little one on Rowan’s chest, making sure to support him since Rowan wasn’t back to one hundred per cent. Rowan lifted his hand and caressed their son’s cheek.

“He’s perfect.” Rowan’s voice caught. “Look at that little perfect mouth and his cute little nose. Holden,” Ro whispered.

That was the name they’d picked for their son. Holden Whitfell.

“I have never seen anything more adorable in my entire life.” And Mikhail meant his mate and his son.

“He looks just like you.” Rowan’s eyes met his. “Just like his daddy.”

Mik couldn’t think of a moment in his life that he’d ever been happier. He had the most precious, beautiful people in his life here with him. He knew it would only get better.