Page 99 of Sold to Three Alpha Kings

“Push, my lady, push!”

“I am pushing!” I yell, furious, confused, afraid, and panicking.

I can feel my vagina stretching out, the flesh tearing as the baby’s head comes out. The pain is like none I’ve ever experienced, and my whole body is trembling. There are tears in my eyes, and I can feel veins on my forehead almost popping as I strain.

Wayne bursts through the door loudly, already talking before he’s fully in the room. “Is she alright? What’s happening?”

“The baby’s coming!” the midwife announces. “You’re doing great, my lady. Just a little more.”

“I can’t,” I whisper, struggling to catch my breath, my eyes fluttering.

My vision is blurry, the voices around me are echoing, and I feel so sleepy.

“Don’t let her fall asleep!” The midwife’s voice slices through my consciousness.

My body is weak, my heartbeat is slowing down, and I have no strength left in me to push anymore.

That’s when I hear them. My Alphas.

“You can do this, Charlize,” Sinth says, his voice sounding distant as I drift on and off consciousness. “Follow the sound of my voice. I know you can hear me.”

I feel familiar hands on both of mine, fingers intertwined.

“Wake up, cutie,” Wayne’s voice is laced with panic. “Wake up.”

“We need you.” This is Chris. “The baby needs you. Please, wake up.”

The baby, I think to myself.

‘This is not how or where we die, Charlize,’ says my wolf. ‘We have a baby to deliver. Now, wake up!’

I gasp loudly, eyes wide open.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Wayne sighs. “I thought we lost you there for a second.”

They’re crouched on both sides of my bed, holding my hands.

“You can do this,” Chris says, casting me an encouraging look.

“We’re here for you, and we’re not going anywhere,” Sinth adds.

I draw a deep breath and squeeze my eyes tightly while pushing with what little strength I have left.

“That’s it, my lady! I can see the baby’s head!” the midwife calls. “One more push, my lady. One more!”

I squeeze against my mates’ fingers, using their grips as anchors as I groan deeply.

The cry comes first. High, furious, healthy.

Then another, right behind it.

“Twins,” the midwife says, sounding almost as stunned as the rest of us

I collapse onto the mattress, exhausted. My heart is still racing, my breathing ragged as I stare blankly into space.

The cries of two babies fill the air, and my mates flank around, comforting me.

“You did it,” Chris says, wiping the sweat on my forehead with a towel. “You actually did it.”