"So I'm just supposed to lie down like a doormat?"
"No, you're a bonded Omega female, which is something to be proud of, in and of itself. Few people find their true mates, especially those who are in our situation," Vaudt spoke up. "And because you are part of a bonded pair, you could be allowed more freedom—if your Alpha allows—because the bond changes your scent over time and you will likely no longer be harassed by single Alphas. Does Emily seem like a doormat to you? She's a nurse, who not only works in the clinic, but teaches others how to do what she does. She reads—"
The hair on the back of Kosh's neck stood up at how Tura responded to hearing that, sitting up to lean forward eagerly. It was the first time he could recall seeing her enthusiastic about much of anything. "She reads?" the girl repeated back in a truly reverent tone of voice.
"Yes, I do. Would you like me to teach you?"
"No, thank you," Kosh said succinctly, before Tura could say anything. If anyone was going to teach his mate to read, it was going to be him.
"And, in case you haven't guessed, I'm pregnant."
Kosh spoke up with the relative ease of longtime acquaintance. "I have to say that I was surprised when I heard that you were going to allow her to do that while she is breeding."
"I know—I was, too, but it wasn't something I came to overnight. Although there are some things that are prescribed about our type of relationship, other parts are determined by the couple themselves. I know many Alphas who would cloister their Omegas away, rather than allow them to work while they're pregnant. And I admit, that was my first instinct, too. But I believe that—in order to deliver a healthy baby—my mate must be content. Granted, she's a bit of a special case because most women don't want to work, but accommodations can be made for differences, if the Alpha is willing to make them in order that his mate—if she desires such—might find some happiness beyond merely breeding and submitting to them."
"Wow—you have grown!" Emmy said, beaming proudly at her big, strong Alpha.
Then he went and ruined it. "But I don't want you to think that she is given free reign, though, by any means. She is in special circumstances right now because she is carrying my child."
"Our child," Emily corrected quietly, although her eyes were on Tura, who was now slumped dejectedly in her chair, her head down for some reason.
"I will not do anything that might cause harm to the child, and thus, she is not being subjected to the regular and thorough discipline that I know she needs. As soon as the babe is born and she has fully recovered, there will be a reckoning."
Now, it was Emmy's turn to blush.
"Is there anything that I can do for you, Tura? Any questions you have? I'm not an expert at these relationships—they didn't really exist where I came from, but I'm still probably the best resource around."
The young woman didn't say anything, didn't acknowledge that Emily was speaking to her until Kosh spoke sharply. "Tura!"
"No, thank you," she answered listlessly. "And they didn't exist where I came from, either, just where I was brought to. And I haven't even known that was what I was for very long." Her words had no enthusiasm or emotion.
"That's something I didn't know about until you told us when we met you. I assumed Omegas were that from birth."
Tura shrugged. "I think it can happen that way, but apparently, not always." Her tone remained troublingly flat, and Emily would have sworn she saw tears in the girl's eyes.
There was a slightly awkward pause, and then Emily asked Kosh, "When you came to the clinic, I was in the middle of examining Tura. Do you think we could finish that examination sometime?"
"I was going to take her to a breeding doctor to try to determine whether or not she might be pregnant."
"Oh, please, don't support those horrible men!"
"Emily!" Vaudt scolded.
But she was unfazed by his displeasure. "Well, they have no idea what they're talking about—all they have are old wives' tales and superstitions. I will take much better care of Tura for you, and it won't be such a traumatic event for her."
Vaudt started at that revelation, filing it away to take up with her later.
"I will have to think on it." He'd never considered letting Emmy take care of Tura, although he supposed it made sense. And those breeding doctors were kind of strange.
Tura remained quiet while the three of them talked amongst themselves for a little while longer, then Vaudt rose, leaning down to help his mate get to her feet and keeping an arm protectively around her.
"Thank you for having us," Emily said. Then she realized how twentieth century that sounded and changed it to, "Thank you for letting me see her." She smiled at Kosh, who really didn't know what to do with someone who smiled so much. "I would be very glad to make myself available any time Tura might feel the need for some companionship," she offered, addressing the girl's Alpha rather than her, because she knew that he would make the decision about whether or not Tura could see her in any capacity.
Then she went to stand in front of the woman in question, taking her smaller hands in hers. "Please try not to be too unhappy. It's very hard, at first; I really do know. But it gets a lot better, I promise." Then she gave the girl a hug, which only seemed to make everyone uncomfortable, including the recipient, so she stopped and returned to the protective circle of Vaudt's arm to be escorted out.
As they lay in bed together, later, with Vaudt drawing lazy circles on Emmy's bare belly while he nuzzled her neck, he said quietly, "I'm sorry to have traumatized you by having a breeding doctor examine you."
She didn't pretend not to know what he was talking about, nor did she pull her punches. "You are now, but you weren't then."
He nodded in agreement. "And I don't know that Kosh will be, either, if that's what he decides—"
All of a sudden, Emily sat up in bed, clutching her stomach and screaming as fluid—bright red blood and other things—poured out from between her legs.
He acted as swiftly as he could. She had given strict instructions as to how she wanted the birth handled. She had been training the most promising of the breeding doctors about how to do a Caesarian section, since the fetus was already incredibly large, and if he went to full term, there was little doubt that one was going to be needed or she and the baby were likely to die during delivery.
Vaudt carried her to the special room she had prepared at the clinic that was lined with all sorts of equipment he had scavenged for her that he knew absolutely nothing about. And, although it made him uneasy to be around such things, his first thought was for her as he stood by her side. But he felt as useless as tits on a bull, and he hated that feeling, too. He hadn't intended to be here during this, but she had said she wanted him to be.
So, he did his best to comfort her, although he didn't think it was working, but at the very least, he could hold her hand and encourage her.
He had already sent someone to fetch the doctor she'd been teaching, who arrived, moments later.
Supposedly, he would know what to do, although as the enormous warlord bore down on him, the young man grew quite nervous, especially when the big man growled threateningly at him, "I would suggest to you that it would be in the interest of your own health that both she and the baby get through this safely."
That having been said, he did as he had promised her he would do, washing his hands and face very thoroughly with water that was hotter than any he'd ever used before, then coming to sit by her head to hold her hand.
She was still doubled over and clutching herself, and Vaudt could see the contractions of her muscles beneath her taut skin.
He had never had much cause for any of the religions of the day. Some people prayed to the sun, some to the moon, some still clung stubbornly to the fragmented remains of the religions of old, or amalgamations thereof. But this alarming situation was making him wish that he did. He had never felt so helpless in his life.
It was almost enough for him not to want to have another baby with her, bu
t he knew that impulse wouldn't last very long—the drive was much too strong, and she was his mate. It would be downright unnatural for him not to get children on her.
But he certainly was regretting getting this one as she grasped at his hand and wrist almost fit to break them while groaning and heaving and panting all at once, and all he could really do was watch.
At one point, though, the doctor—Kel—that Emily herself had been educating about how she wanted the birth to go—took his non-existent balls in his hand and stepped up to the big man. "You have to leave now. I have to take the baby by surgical methods, and you can't be in the room."
Still holding onto Emily's now limp hand, he rose to his full height. "I do not think you know what you are saying, eunuch."
"I am saying that your mate, who is the most medically educated person I have ever had the fortune to meet, told me that, if I decided I needed to remove the baby via her abdomen, that only essential personnel should be in the room. And she very specifically told me that included you." He swallowed hard, expecting that he was going to be dead within the next few seconds.
Lord Vaudt was not known as a man who took orders well. He gave them; he didn't take them.
The giant turned back to stare at the woman who was already unconscious.
"I'm sorry, my lord, but we need to do this quickly, if they are to both survive."
He looked back at the smaller man absently, then his attention returned to his woman, leaning down and kissing her cheek with incredible tenderness, whispering that he loved her, not caring in the least who saw or heard him.
Then he straightened and allowed himself to be led from the room, saying in a voice that made everyone around him tremble. "I will not move from the other side of that door for as long as it takes. And if—" his voice didn't break as much as it simply stopped, because he couldn't imagine forming the words, but he knew he had to force himself to do it. "If the worst happens, you will come and get me so that I can be by her side."
"Yes, my lord," the doctor in charge answered softly.
Vaudt took up his post right in front of the double doors as staunchly as he had ever taken any military post he'd been given, very nearly at attention, although not quite. Eventually, Hinda, then, Anja and, finally, Kosh arrived, but none of them could persuade him to budge so much as an inch, while Kosh sat around feeling extraneous and Hinda and Anja both prayed to the gods they believed in.
After a very long while, they heard a commotion inside, followed by the loud, angry cry of a baby. The three of them were ready to celebrate, but Vaudt had yet to make any kind of a move at all.
When the door swung open, out into the hall, it hit his foot first, and he backed away only enough that Kel could poke his head through them.
"My lord, if you will put these on, you can come back in."
It was some kind of garb in the same kind of strange material that the doctor and his cohorts were wearing. And it was purple.
But he wasn't going to argue. He had heard the lusty cry of his child, but the annoying little man had yet to say anything about what kind of condition Emmy was in, and he feared—yes, feared, in the pit of his stomach and the soles of his feet—the worst.
The scrubs hadn't been made for a person of his size, so he didn't wear them as much as he simply draped them over himself. He didn't wait for the doctor to lead him over to Emmy—he marched over to squat down by her head. Her eyes were closed, and he still did not know whether she was dead or alive. He could hear his child squawking loudly in the background, but he barely gave the baby a thought.
His big hand came down to caress her forehead, then into her hair as he whispered, "My love."
To his great relief, her eyelids fluttered open, seconds later, and she looked up at him with eyes full of tears. "Have you seen your son?"
"I have not. He will wait. My concern is for you, little girl."
"I am fine. Kel made the right decision—he's a big boy! I practically birthed a toddler!"
One of the other doctors hovered near them with the baby in his arms, and Emmy held out her arms to him, only to hand him over to Vaudt, who looked apoplectic at the idea of holding his child.
"Put your arms out like this, then just hold him. You won't hurt him."
She sounded much more confident about that fact than he felt. Even though she said he was large, he was a terribly tiny scrap of humanity to the big man, and he thought immediately that the only times he'd ever in his life held something more precious was when he was holding her.
The little one had big blue eyes that were staring right back into his disconcertingly. Then he smiled broadly and gurgled before closing his eyes, obviously feeling very safe and content in his father's arms.
And he was as lost to his little son the moment he saw him as he had been to his mother the moment he'd seen her.
Vaudt caught Emmy's eyes, which were already tear filled, meeting them with his own moist ones. "Thank you. You must be exhausted."
"I am, but we must show our gratitude to Kel for his fine work bringing me through it with nothing but stone knives and bear skins." He didn't understand that reference, but he got the gist. "Quite frankly, we owe him my life and the baby's."
He blanched white for a second at those words, then recovered. "And I would bet that you have an idea how best to do that?" he almost teased.
"I do. He's the youngest and smartest and most open to learning new things of the current doctors—and I use the term loosely. Put him in charge of the medical end of things. I'll still keep my hand in, but I'm going to have a baby to take care of now, so I won't be able to devote as much time as I have to my work."
Vaudt was glad to hear that she was thinking along those lines, because he intended to breed her again as soon as it was medically okay for him to do so—as long as she felt well.
"Name him your Surgeon Commander."
His eyebrow went up. She'd based the title off of the America Surgeon General, adjusting it a bit because they didn't seem to have generals, but she now realized that he would probably like it because of its militaristic connotations.
"But he's not a soldier."
"He doesn't have to be that kind of a commander. But he and I can also set up the surgical hospitals I talked about for battles, too, if you must find a military aspect to his position." That was about the extent of her strength. She couldn't explain or argue with him any further. Either he would take her advice, or he wouldn't.
"You are tired. Rest now. I am incredibly proud and thankful to you, Emily," he confessed quite humbly, for him.
"As I am of you," she returned before drifting off to sleep.
One of the doctors came to take the baby away from him, explaining that there were a few things his mate had specified that needed to be done before he could have him back.
Feeling somewhat bereft, with Emmy asleep, hopefully, and the baby gone, Vaudt headed purposefully towards Kel, who immediately assumed the wary expression that most people he approached seemed to wear.
"My Omega tells me that I—we—have you to thank for saving both of their lives."
The doctor looked surprised. "You're welcome."
"She also mentioned to me that she thought you should be elevated from your current lowly rank, and I agree. From now on, you are my Surgeon Commander, in charge of all things medical—with her assistance, of course."
For a moment, he thought the other man was going to faint on him. Kel couldn't believe that this big, tough Alpha warlord was heeding his tiny Omega's advice.
"Don't look so surprised, Commander," Vaudt almost smiled at the man's astonishment. "She just gave me a son. Frankly, if she'd asked me to cut you up into little pieces, I would have done that without hesitation, too."
With that, he took his son away from the doctors who were hovering over him and brought him out to show him to the three brave souls who had stayed by his side through the most torturous hours he had ever experienced.
Chapter 6
&nb
sp; Unfortunately, things between the other Alpha and Omega couple were not going anywhere near as well.
Kosh didn't know what it was—not that he had really spent a lot of time thinking about it—but something had gotten to his mate. He was pretty sure it was something that had happened while the four of them were all together, although he had no idea what it actually was.
The inroads he had been making with Tura had come to an abrupt halt. She had—especially at first—alternated between being disaffected and ignoring him as much as he allowed her to get away with and misbehaving at every turn, such that her bottom was a constant, angry shade of red.
Based on her somewhat better behavior, they had—previously—progressed to the point where he had even allowed her to spend some time unbound within the confines of the room. In fact, he had left her to her own devices, to go be with Vaudt as his son was born, and had come home elated with the good news that both Emmy and the child—who was to be known as Keev—were doing well. He was already full blown in anticipation of trying to make a baby of his own with her. The sight that greeted him, however, was not at all what he expected.
She was sitting cross legged in the middle of the room, and nearly everything around her—everything he had accumulated in his lifetime—lay broken and strewn around her. The only thing that pretty much escaped her wrath was the bed frame. Check that, he realized as he scanned the room. The bed frame and his books, for some reason, were stacked neatly against the wall. The bookcase was in several pieces, though. The mattress was curled over onto itself on the floor, well across the room, and the sheet and blanket were in shreds on the other side of the room. Each table was missing at least one leg—as were the chairs—and his electronics were scattered from one end of the small room to the other. Someone had had a temper tantrum.
As he stood there, assessing the damage in a wide-legged stance with his arms crossed over his chest, he saw that her shoulders—as well as the rest of her—were shaking.
Kosh took a slow, deep breath, then walked over to her, taking her wrist and lifting her onto her feet. He said not one word as he bent her over the end of the bed, moving her hands to make her grasp ahold of the slats above her head, figuring that he probably didn't have to tell her that she was not to move them again. The heavy buckle then jingled in warning as he removed his thick leather belt and looped it in half.
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