Page 99 of Ruined Omega

Tal is unfazed by my outburst. His rolling purr continues, along with his two pack-brothers, Baen and Canaris.

“You’re almost there,” Lily shouts. “Push, Hines, push…”

I want to scream that I’m doing that too. It’s not like I really have any choice in the matter. The instinctual urge to get this baby out of me has taken control of my body. But I know Lily is helping me, so instead of yelling, I suck all my anger and pain up inside me, twist my grip on my Alphas’ hands, and bear down with everything I’ve got.

The baby is coming. Inching out of me. The round bulk starts to slide out of my hole. I scream and ride out the immense pain and pressure.

“Again!” Lily cries. “Keep pushing, Hines, keep pushing!”

My body quakes, and tears pour down my face. I puff in a few quick but deep breaths, and then I push with all my might to expel the baby.

Suddenly there is a sense of relief as the baby slides all the way out.

“The first one’s out!” Lily shouts.

I open my eyes. All three of my Alphas are craning their necks to see. After a moment, Lily raises a little squirming baby, body smudged with white, buttery substance, tiny features squinted against the strange new world he has emerged into.

He.

“It’s a boy!” Baen shouts excitedly.

Not only is the baby a boy, but he looks like a chubby, miniature version of Baen himself. My heart glows with immediate love for my son. I start to cry with happiness and love.

But the need to push comes again, and I do so, this time expelling the placenta.

Lily has explained to me that while babies in the Zone are always born in litters of three or more, there are not many identical twins. Most are of the fraternal variety, meaning each baby has their own placenta and amniotic sac.

My son, my firstborn, opens his tiny mouth and lets out a croaky cry of displeasure at being evicted from his warm home of the past nine months. That sound brings a smile to my face.

He is alive and healthy.

And loud. By the Source, he’s loud.

That’s a good sign. It means he’s strong. A strong little Alpha baby boy.

Moving with incredible care, Lily shifts the newborn to a pad of clean cloth. She asks for help. Immediately, Canaris moves over there and helps Sloane, who was also nearby, to cut the umbilical cord and clean the baby.

But my happiness is fleeting.

That’s just one baby down.

I’ve got at least two more to go.

The fact of the matter is that I don’t know for certain how many babies are in my belly. We don’t have ultrasound and all the other high-tech gadgets available on the outside. But I’ll be finding out soon enough, I guess.

One thing is for certain, however: the baby who is second in line is more than eager to follow his or her older brother into the world. I can already feel the next baby dropping heavily into my strained birth canal.

This baby feels even bigger.

“You’re doing amazing,” Baen says beside me, giving my hand a firm but gentle squeeze.

The squeeze that I give him in return, however, is anything but gentle. Spasms of pain and pressure rip through my belly and core. I grunt and ride it out, then panting with exhaustion, I bear down hard again.

Push, breathe, push…

“Good,” Lily shouts from between my legs. “Keep pushing! Keep pushing!”

The second baby is both easier and more difficult than the first. Easier in the sense that I’ve done it once, so I know what to expect now. More difficult in the sense that this baby is definitely the bigger of the two. As the baby breaches my opening, the pressure is frighteningly intense. I feel like I’m being split in two. My shrieks fill the hollow space of the temple.