The Wildflower Series

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The Wildflower Series Page 49

by Rachelle Mills


  “Did you just call me your mate?”

  Smiling to him, I reply, “Yes, I did.” He gives me a quick kiss.

  “Do you know how happy that just made me? Do you know how happy you make me?” Another kiss to my lips before he pulls away.

  “Dallas, you need to just settle down. You’re not the doctor here. You’re not in charge. They will throw you out if you become difficult.” He looks ashamed of himself. He knows better; he must have seen this countless times when he was the one to deliver all those pups. Except it’s different when you’re the one to go through it.

  “Rya, let’s have a look, all right? See what’s going on.” This midwife has a softness about her. She’s in her mid-fifties. Her hands have caught more pups than Dallas and me put together. She is an expert in her field.

  Well seasoned.

  Another contraction grips me, holding me in my spot until it fades away. The midwife gives me a smile, nature doing its job. With each contraction, the more ready the body gets to push this life out.

  “Let’s get you into this, shall we?” She closes the door behind me. Dallas waits on the other side.

  She helps me get undressed, putting the light blue gown on, tying me up in the back.

  “Let’s have you lay back.” I do as I’m told because I know that she has to check me. Putting gloves on, she lubricates her fingers, and I thank the moon that Dallas and I never did what I want to this morning. That would be mortifying having her between my legs looking at some of Dallas coming out of me.

  Thank the moon for the little things.

  When she checks inside of me, I take a breath in. She has her hand on my lower abdomen. She smiles up at me.

  “You’re five centimeters and about seventy percent effaced. Rya, how long have you been in labor?” She asks her question as she takes off her glove and washes her hand.

  “Last night I started to feel some contractions. They weren’t regular and didn’t last long until they finally went away. Then this morning the contractions started up again. My water broke, but they aren’t regular yet, maybe every seven minutes, then one back to back, then another seven minutes might go by. The contraction itself only lasts a minute. I have a long way to go.” I’m slightly nervous right now, and I kind of wish my mom was with me.

  “Let’s get you into our birthing rooms.” She opens the door for Dallas to come in.

  “I’m five centimeters and seventy percent effaced.” I need to keep him informed about the progress.

  “Well, this is a first for us.” The doctor comes into the room.

  “My mate and I have never had to deliver a doctor or midwife’s pup before. We also never had to birth the next generation Alpha either, so this is exciting, to say the least.” He gives Dallas a pat on the back. “We have done this many times. We have only had one female leave us, and Rya is in very good shape, extremely healthy, not the same case as that female.”

  I think the doctor just needs to try and settle Dallas’s nerves down.

  Another contraction slides in slowly at first, until it peaks and fades away.

  “We have a shower here if you need it. I think maybe you should walk around inside here for a while. Get things progressing more. We’re in for a long day.” She walks away, going to talk with Luna Grace, who is nodding her head at her, the doctor talking to her as well. They probably are making a plan up if Dallas starts to unwind at the seams. He’s a very strong male that would be a handful if he can’t focus on the prize.

  “We can do this.” Dallas kisses my hand, then my cheek.

  “We can do this.” I’m a little scared when the next contraction slams into me. I do my best to breathe through it.

  He’s holding my hand, sweating.

  Getting up, the walking starts, up and down the hallway stopping as the contractions start to become more regular, more focused in the education of pain.

  Up and down for hours, we are walking, and Dallas is by my side the whole time. With the growing strength of the contractions, my lower back is starting to have an intense pressure pulse on it. I know I am switching from the active phase of labor to the transitional phase.

  I’m a ball of sweat. Everything is sticking to me. Luna Grace has cool wet cloths on my forehead. I need to lay down now on my side. Dallas is pressing his palms into the base of my back; the pain is unrelenting. As soon as the contraction stops, the next one is there to take its place.

  Another one is coming. The last one feels like it just ended. “No, not another one. It’s coming again.” Now my seams are coming undone, unraveling in mind-altering pain.

  “I can’t take another one.” Shaking my head back and forth, preparing for it to peak, my whole abdomen is in a tight ball of hurt before it slowly loosens up.

  “When the next one comes, Rya, remember to breathe. Don’t hold it in. You need to breathe it out.” This female is insane, easy for her say. She’s not the one going through this. I’m losing my focus and giving in to the pain.

  The next contraction has me grunting out, fingers clenched tight. My whole body seizes up to just focus on the pain. My eyes are even in pain.

  “Dallas, I can’t do this.” I hold his gaze. “I can’t do this.” I’m starting to cry as the next one takes me on the pain train that’s too fast to try to jump off. Over and over the contractions are fast and furious.

  “Rya, you need to calm down. You need to focus. Let’s practice that breathing.” He starts to breathe. “Do what I do. That’s right, in and out, that’s all I want you to do when the next contraction starts.” I focus on his voice that’s in my ear now. In and out, the pain is so intense at this stage I feel as if I could vomit, and I do all over the floor.

  This is grunting, teeth-gnashing, jaw-clenching pain. Sweat pours down my face as she checks me.

  “It’s time, Rya. We’re going to start pushing.” My eyes almost go in the back of my head. If I thought I went through pain before, this is going to be ten times worse.

  Dallas angles me up in position, holding one of my legs while Luna Grace takes the other.

  “Chin to chest, and I want you to bear down as if you’re going to have a bowel movement. We’re going to count to ten. I want you to push the whole time with the next contraction.” It’s not a long wait until the contraction comes. Chin to chest, and I push for the ten count, resting only after ten.

  “Good job, Rya.” Dallas kisses my forehead. “I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so good.”

  “You’re doing so good, Rya, way better than I did my first time.” Luna Grace gives me a much-needed compliment.

  The doctor enters the room, sticking to the side.

  Dallas starts to growl, low and threatening. He almost lets my leg go before we begin to count again.

  This is repeated over and over again, me pushing, them counting, me collapsing down for a little rest before it’s time to push again. I might have burst a blood vessel in my forehead with the exertion I’m putting forth. The midwife tries to ease his head out without ripping me.

  This goes on for at least an hour before the midwife looks at the doctor.

  “Would you like to check her?” Dallas immediately lets me go, coming to stand in front of my parted legs before the doctor has time to get there.

  “What’s the problem?” His voice is frigid, cold without emotion. He doesn’t sound like my Dallas.

  “I think maybe the head is too big for her. She might need his help to ease him out. I think he needs to just give her a little cut.”

  Another contraction grips me, and I push on my own without anyone telling me to; my body is taking over. It’s telling me I need to push, some deep-seated instinct that you are just born with.

  The body knows when it’s time to push a pup out.

  “Dallas, let the doctor do his job.” Luna Grace is threatening, but she doesn’t let my leg go. Instead, she encourages me to keep pushing my male out. She pushes my hair away from my forehead.

  The doctor takes a ste
p toward me, and Dallas crouches toward him with his teeth out. It’s a threatening sight. His claws are descending.

  The Luna puts a blanket on top of me before raising her voice. “We need you.” In that second, the door opens, and Alpha Clinton comes inside.

  “Your mate needs you now. Don’t do this. Don’t miss this the way I did with you. Never will you forgive yourself for it.” The Silverback takes a step toward Dallas, whose eyes are the color of night. His female is at her weakest, and males are surrounding her. This is his natural born instincts; he’s unable to control his need to protect.

  The doctor takes another step toward me as I feel the thin layer of skin tear to make room for the head. Blood starts to pour on the floor in a steady stream. It’s now saturating the room in a fine metallic taste.

  The midwife lifts the cover that was hiding me from Dallas’s father. She’s between my legs, angling the bed so I’m in a squatting position. The need to push is so strong it’s all I can think about.

  “Dallas.” It’s all I can say, holding my hand out for him to take.

  I can feel the head crowning. The ring of fire is burning hot, like molten lava around the edges.

  “I need you.” My cries must be hitting his ears because his whole body starts to relax slightly. Turning away from his father, he snarls at the doctor before taking a position at my head. Holding my hand.

  “Please, Dallas.” Looking into his eyes, I feel hot tears drip down my cheeks.

  “I can’t do this without you.” My hand is gripping his, turning the fingertips white. Another contraction ripples my flesh as I feel the head come out. Taking a quick breath in and out is a dizzying feeling.

  “With the next contraction, I want you to push with everything you have,” the midwife’s stern, focused voice commands.

  Bearing down with a long, teeth-mashing grunt, I push that big male out of my body the way all mothers must.

  Instantly the pain stops to a level where I can see clearly. She puts the bloody blue-tinged body on my chest, wiping him off with a towel. She’s rough with him, and I want to bite her hand with the way she’s handling him. He pulls in a lungful of air before I hear that first sound of his cries.

  It’s the sound I will have imprinted on me until I go to the moon.

  Dallas is crouched down, looking at his male. He’s taking his smell in, listening to his cry. The midwife hands him a knife to cut the cord.

  When Dallas cuts his cord of life that binds him to me, I feel the loss of him. The attachment is gone, only to be replaced with a much stronger, more deadly attachment.

  I would kill for my little male.

  I would protect him with my life.

  This is my love, this tiny helpless crying male on my chest is my love, and I would never change my life, because then I would not have him.

  I give thanks to the moon for this miracle.

  Chapter 25

  The Moon

  White snow drifts fold as if they are frozen waves suspended just before they crest into themselves.

  The tide of frozen snow.

  Crisp air, biting cold, blue skies.

  The sun seems to be shining brighter, making the sea of snow sparkle as if it were made of many tiny crystals reflecting the light, casting the world in glitter.

  Snow can be beautiful and soft or unpredictable and harsh.

  “I want to show you something.” Dallas pulls off the main road onto a side road that seems to be recently plowed. The hard snow crunches under the tires of the car. Looking down at the tiny bundle securely strapped into his car seat, he’s sleeping contentedly. I couldn’t bring myself to ride in the front seat; I preferred to take the back with my male. This is his very first car ride, leaving the clinic. After three days of just Dallas and me, it’s time for him to meet the family for the first time.

  Pulling up to a clear area of woods, he stops the car. Turning in his seat, Dallas regards me. “I just wanted to show you where, if you wanted, we could build our house.” He looks at me, watching my face before he gets out of the car.

  Opening the back door for me to get out, he takes my hand. I climb out gingerly, releasing a little hiss of pain from the change of movement. It’s really not that bad as long as I take it slow and careful.

  Little puffs of steam come out of our mouths as we breathe the arctic air.

  “I thought that this is where we could build it, a big picture window here,” he says, pointing with his hands. “A fireplace there. The kitchen in the back, with a deck off to the side.” He’s going on explaining in detail his dream house. I listen to him, looking on at the excitement of his descriptions.

  It’s lighting up his face. The future is shining out bright.

  Taking in the scenery, I can picture the inside, fire crackling, hot chocolate and marshmallows, family dinners, barbecues in the summertime. Bonfires and guitars. Singing and playing. Young ones running around squealing in delight.

  His words are giving me a picture of what our future could be like.

  Looking out at the lake, it’s starting to freeze almost to the middle. The stillness of the water says that another few degrees drop in temperature, the whole lake will be frozen solid.

  “I don’t want you to say anything. I just wanted you to see what we could have here.” His big body wraps me up in a hug. We stay like this for just a few minutes, he and I taking in the lake view while our little one is cozy warm in the car.

  It’s not the ocean with its deep pounding surf that vibrates my body in a rush. This lake has more of a promise to it, more of a homey feel, as if I could sip my tea on the deck and just enjoy the view without the saltiness of what the ocean can offer me.

  “I need to be honest with you, completely honest. I don’t know how much longer I can go without marking you. It’s taking every ounce of control not to bite into your neck and claim you. I just want you to know this. I’m trying very hard to give you the time you need, but I’m having a hard time letting that happen.” He’s looking at the lake while he says this, hands in his pockets.

  “I want you to mark me. I want to mark you when the time’s right.”

  “Do you mean that?” He’s watching my face.

  “I do.” Very gently he picks me up, kissing the spot on my neck as he twirls us around. Feeling his heart beating in his chest, the tingles begin to go up my spine. He’s laughing and kissing my jawline, my neck every place my skin is exposed from the opening of the jacket.

  Laughing with him, I twirl in the air as if I’m the lightest thing in the world to him. I won’t forget this moment for as long as I live.

  He’s the ending to my fairytale.

  “Let’s go. My family is waiting to see him.” No one was allowed to come into our birth den except the Luna, Alpha just barely, and the midwife. I couldn’t tolerate anyone else interrupting the bonding that the three of us were having.

  The imprinting of features, the time to get comfortable with him in my arms. The feel of him naked against my chest. I needed time alone away from any other wolves.

  Dallas is so gentle with our little one. I could only sleep if I knew he had him in his arms tucked in safe. My hackles on full alert, every noise, every new scent had me in an uproar. Only Dallas could calm me down with him looking out the door, telling me that no one was there. That we’re safe from harm. I made him sleep by the door just in case. No windows are in this room, just a door.

  One way in, one way out.

  They designed this room with mothers in mind.

  A new mother with a just birthed young is delusionally fierce, almost borderline psychotic.

  Getting into the backseat, making sure he’s still sleeping, I can’t help the smile that beams out of my face. He’s wearing a light blue hat on his bald little head. Little tiny mitts on his hands keep him from scratching his face with nails that I can’t cut yet.

  He doesn’t even squirm, just content in dreams.

  It’s still hard to believe that he was just inside
me. I feel slightly sad with the loss of him kicking and stretching inside me. I had gotten so used to that, now he’s not inside I feel slightly sad.

  They grow so fast.

  “Rya, everyone’s going to be in the living room. We will walk in and introduce him. Remember, this is our family. No one will hurt him.” He understands my nervousness. Letting others by him is nerve-racking. Even though I know they won’t hurt him, it’s hard to have others sniffing around something that’s so fragile and is mine.

  Walking into the house, it’s calm, quiet, slightly darkened as the blinds have all been pulled down. The hair on the back of my neck raises as I take in the smells of the wolves I know. Stepping backward, I bump into Dallas’s chest as he blocks the exit. He pushes me forward with his body, taking the first few steps inside. He has our male in his arms; he puffs himself up more. His whole body is rigid with a strength that new fathers possess, and he’s only displaying it for my benefit.

  New mothers are very skittish. I’m no exception.

  Walking into the living room that’s just off the side of the kitchen, I have never been in here before. It’s hardly ever used. The kitchen table is where the family congregates.

  The heart of the home.

  Crane is on the couch, sitting beside Carson, who is looking at me with an easy, curious smile. Cash is on a chair regarding me with relief.

  His experience bringing his twins home was not this. That was a totally different experience altogether.

  Caleb’s on the ground with both twins crawling all over him, his hair just beginning to grow out. He doesn’t look at me as he continues to nip them on the neck, swat at their heads. They’re pulling themselves up to standing positions, trying to bite his shoulders. They are a mass of arms and legs and squealing delight. You can tell that he is their absolute favorite.

  Happiness is pouring out of them in waves of unfiltered bliss.

  Belac is sitting on the couch, watching him, Treajure close by her side, still without glasses. Her head tilts up, taking in the new scent of a newborn life.

 

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