“It hurts.” I grunted and rested my head on my mate’s chest. “What’s your dragon saying? Shouldn’t he be providing commentary?”
“He just says the baby’s on the way.”
“Great.” That wasn’t helpful, but the only thing that would help was getting the baby out. The pain was excruciating, and I sagged against Theron, wondering if I’d still be conscious when it came time to push.
My mate messaged Jess, saying I was in labor and the kids could go on every ride, play all the games, and eat as much as they wanted. I rolled my eyes, thinking how hyped up they’d be, but I didn’t want them here, listening to me cry and moan.
“Will your dragon be able to communicate with the baby dragon after the birth?” Why had I never asked that question until now? I put it down to baby brain.
“No. He’ll sense our child’s beast but nothing more.”
“Another one.” I held onto him, and when the contraction gripped me, I squeezed him. He didn’t wince or cry out, because even in the throes of pain, I couldn’t crush his arm enough to hurt.
I'd read books about labor and I thought I'd been ready. The contractions amassed, like a damned army in formation, waiting for battle. The breaks between them got shorter, and at some point, I was on the sectional on my hands and knees with Theron behind me rubbing my back.
The books said I’d know when to push. I didn’t, until oh gods, yes, there it was. I had to bear down.
“You’re doing great, treasure.”
I loved that pet name, but right now, I didn’t. I wanted to toss it off along with the pain.
“Don’t call me that. I’ll give you permission later.”
“Okay.” He pressed his lips to my head.
“I’m not good at this.” Was any omega? If they were, why hadn’t they shared hints with me?
“Your body knows what to do.”
“Are you sure my body hasn’t suffered memory loss?”
But perhaps he was right. I was breathing and pushing during contractions, but my body was telling me when and how to proceed.
Theron's voice was steady as he kneeled behind me. His voice and his hand on my hip reassured and grounded me. I welcomed his smoky scent that surrounded me like the throw on the back of the sofa.
“I see the baby’s head.”
My brain told me we weren’t progressing, but Theron could see our little one, so I was doing it right. I pushed some more. There were contractions, pushes, pain, and my mate’s voice. I was being split in two, until the pressure released, and there was an angry cry.
“We have another daughter.”
A little girl, a sister for Rory, Fraser, and Skye.
Theron was making weird sounds, a sort of combination between a laugh and a sob, but he helped me onto my back and placed the squirming bundle on my chest.
“I’d be annoyed too if I was safe and warm and got expelled from my sleeping place.”
I kissed her damp head, and our daughter opened her eyes. They were so dark, like my mate’s, and I imagined I was staring into centuries of dragon history. She was smaller than I expected, considering I’d carried her for nine months and she’d felt so enormous.
“She’s ours, just as her older siblings are.” I smothered her head with more kisses, feeling as though my heart would burst and overflow with happiness.
My mate kissed our daughter, then me, and our daughter again. I was overcome with awe and love, one so strong there was nothing that could sever it.
Theron turned off the fans. I expected my body to return to normal human temperature as it had been before I got pregnant. But Theron told me our daughter may have given me something.
“She’s left you some dragon DNA, and now you’re the same temperature as the rest of the family.”
“That rules out ever going to a human doctor.” And how would I explain this to my parents?
