“Oh, bullshit. Now the whole lot of them will stay until the baby comes. I knew I should have brought Francois in from the city. I’ll have Reed call him so he can come down and cook for this bunch of heathens.”
Starry chuckled. “They can eat leftovers. There’s enough crab puffs for an army.”
“The caterers did do a nice job.” He got Starry to their bedroom. “Those people down there will dine out on this for weeks. An attack from a rival clan, a baby shower, and a birth. What more could they ask for?”
“Mmm. Right now I just want to rinse off in the shower and have a change of clothes.”
“Anything you want, lovely.” He took Starry right to the bathroom, where the shower had a bench seat that he could sit on.
“Thank you.” To his horror, Starry teared up. “This is crazy.”
“I’m so sorry, love. I don’t know how they got in. I’m so proud of you and Reed. You saved the day.” And he was going to rain hellfire down on the Galandels. They would be a greasy spot when he was done.
“I can see your fire building again.” Starry put a hand on his chest. “Shhhh.”
“Sorry, love.” He sighed, letting it go. “Let’s get you clean.” He stripped Starry down, the ripples in that distended belly fascinating. He wasn’t going to freak out. He was going to help his mate in any way he could.
That was his job, and it was also his pride and his pleasure.
Hours into the labor,Starry knew one thing for certain.
Des was never going to touch him again. Never. Not one. Not a finger.
He strained, sweat pouring off him, his scales trying to pop out to protect him from something they would do no good with. He was just going to expire from this.
And it was Des’s fault.
Well, and his.
“Okay, Alistair, it’s time to push now.”
Alaina had been extremely patient. So had Des, to be fair. And Des had been so sweet and worried, and had held him close, rubbing his back.
Now Des held his hands. “Squeeze all you need to, love.”
“Now, Alistair,” Alaina ordered, and he squeezed. Hard. And pushed.
“Ughnnn!” Oh, Goddess, he was never going to get this baby out. Never.
“That’s good. So good,” Des crooned.
“It is. Good strong push, Alistair. I’m pleased. Okay, breathe.”
And so it went for an hour or more, him pushing and nothing bloody happening!
“Help me, Des.”
“If I could I would. You can do this, love.” Des kissed the back of his neck. “I love you.”
“Aaaaaaaagggghhhh!” He pushed again, feeling weak as a kitten, and Alaina exclaimed happily.
“There we are. I see a head. Good job, Alistair. Okay, ride the breath, then push again when it’s time.”
He pushed and grunted and yelled, and Des cursed and asked the goddess for help, and then the baby slid from his body in what seemed like a serious rush, and he panted, his whole lower half on fire.
“Oh, baby. You did so good.”
“I feel like I should still be pushing.”
