by Lane Whitt
“She’s thirsty,” Reed tells Tristan, who goes flying from the room, no doubt getting me a drink. If I was in any other situation, the guys’ behavior would have me giggling hysterically. Their panicked expressions and worried faces put me on edge at first, but I’m starting to realize that they’re just as scared of this baby as I am. Even Kellan is a little tense. Finn tells him more than once that they’ve got this, reminding him that he’s here to assist him.
I thirstily lap up the water placed in front of me. I have mere moments before yet another contraction rocks my body, every muscle in me rebelling, working to squeeze this baby out of me. They get closer together until I can’t tell if there’s any break between them at all. I’m a snarling, clawing mess, howling with everything in me for someone to put a stop to this. I can’t even hear Kellan’s instructions anymore.
What I can only assume is hours later Tristan moves into my line of sight, lowering himself down to rest on his heels, hands out in front of him. He speaks, low and soft, trying to calm me. While his voice does soothe me, as always, it does nothing to calm the body-wracking pain. Stroking my head, he eyes me sympathetically before moving against the wall with the others. The more time that goes by the more worried they get. Kellan reminds them frequently that this is a process and that I’m built to handle it. I don’t know for sure if that last part is true. It sure doesn’t feel that way.
Eventually a new, terrible feeling takes place between my hind legs. The pressure intensifies as the squeezing in my abdomen hits a whole new level. It hurts so much that I forget to howl. Something is definitely coming out of me down there.
The guys all crouch down, leaning forward to get a closer look as Kellan does something I can’t see, but feels like he’s washing me off. Finn instructs Remy to lay a soft towel over his outstretched arms, turning his body to face his brother’s. He takes a deep breath before smiling over at me, telling me I’m doing a good job. I push with all the strength I have left, and the pain between my legs ebbs immediately.
The guys move into action instantly, but I don’t watch what they’re doing. Instead, I take a moment to catch my breath and rest my eyes. I hear whoops and cheers as the guys celebrate, as overly-emotional as I am.
Opening my eyes I scent the air, finding the new scent immediately. It smells of me, yet not fully. I also smell the twins. Not one of them or the other; the scent a combination of both, yet neither. My eyes land on a too-tiny-to-cause-that-much-pain ball of fur held aloft in Finn’s arms. Closing his eyes, he drags his nose over the pup’s head before sharing a conspiratorial smile with Kellan, who’s beaming back at him with a smile brighter than I’ve ever seen it.
Casting my eyes around the room, all I see is smiles and a few teary eyes. There’s no disappointment like I was afraid of. Finn hands the pup up to Remy, who reverently cradles him to his chest as Ash and Logan close in on either side of him to get a better look.
Reed gives me an odd look just before a shooting pain ricochets through my abdomen again. “So, I was right then,” I hear him murmur before turning his frantic eyes away from me and darting them to the others. “We’re going to need more blankets.”
Everyone freaks out at once. Mostly me. With them talking over each other, they’ve forgotten that I have no voice to ask what the hell is going on. By the time they start paying attention to me again I’m lost to the pain once more, unable to hear any sound over my own pounding heartbeat and panting breaths.
Sometime later, I give birth to a blonde bundle of fur that seems to purr when cuddled. He smells of Reed and sunshine. The guys pass the pups around, each taking turns holding them and nuzzling their heads. No doubt memorizing their scents and just taking them in. This time, everyone looks to Reed to see if it’s all over.
Sadly for me, but joyously for us all, it’s not. Another round of pain brings another ball of fur; this time an orangey-red one with pure white fur on his paws, making him look like he’s wearing socks. Even without the scent I’d know he was Remy’s, that bright, fiery hair giving him away.
Next comes the biggest surprise of them all. A little girl. She’s the smallest of them all, with a glossy black coat and white-tipped ears. She cries the quietest cry I’ve ever heard until her twin is born. He comes out fighting mad, and growling until he’s brought close enough to smell all of his siblings. Once he does, he grunts and curls up for a nap. The guys chuckle and laugh at his attitude. A resounding “Alpha” choruses from their lips as one. Smelling of fire, charred wood, and smoke, Ash’s pups stun the hell out of their father. He falls to his knees with a groan of “cruel gods” when our girl was born, and has been staring wide-eyed at his son since he was born.
I check in quickly with Remy to see if it upsets him that Ash ended up spawning the next Alpha and not him. I don’t know if it’s the joy of being a father to not one but five pups that make him a shining ray of joy, but Remy seems like he couldn’t care less. All of them are overjoyed with the babies, none of them claiming their own offspring for themselves but excited and happy for each one of our children.
Finally getting the all-clear from Reed, who explains that he doesn’t sense any emotions but mine coming from me, I’m cleaned up and lifted so that the blankets under me can be changed out for clean ones. Tired as I am, I greedily accept all the affection my mates shower me with. I wish I could shift so I could hug and kiss them back, but I can’t find the energy to do so. When the pups start whining, they’re reluctantly put down so that they can nurse from me.
The guys seem content to hang out with me and our pups in this small room, sprawling out where they can and basking in the afterglow of childbirth like they did something. I’d roll my eyes at them if I could. Playfully, of course, because now that the pain has receded I’m able to remember why I love them all so much. I’m happy that they’re happy.
As the pups finish nursing they try to snuggle up under me, but the guys can’t seem to help themselves and quickly snatch them up, wrapping them in blankets to keep them warm. I don’t mind a bit, as I’m finally able to doze off.
Reed
Five pups. Hard to believe, and yet the simplest explanation all along. I had an inkling, but I was scared to mention it or to believe it myself. I had to be content with only ever having one pup. We all did. We may never get another, as children are so rare for our kind. If I had mentioned my suspicions to anyone else, I might have gotten their hopes up and taken away from the birth of our first child. It seemed impossible, so I had let it go. Thinking back, maybe that wasn’t the wisest decision. Hard to feel bad about it, though. The others’ faces were absolutely priceless.
Kitten finally gets some rest, eyeballing her pups safely in their fathers’ care one last time before huffing and closing her eyes. I couldn’t be prouder of my girl. She’s been through a lot today, experiencing a mostly human birth and all the pain and waiting associated with it, while physically giving birth to wolf pups. I know it took a lot out of her.
Remy quietly goes to retrieve Mikey and to let Maksim know the good news. I watch everyone else, trying to remember this image the way Kitten does. Logan plays with our only female pup, teasing Ash as much as he can. “You’re not going to wear all black like your daddy Ash, are you? No, of course not. Nothing but bright pinks and yellows and glitter for my little one. Lace and frills and ruffle socks, and every other girlie thing I can think of, huh? Yeah, you’re going to love it,” he jokes in a baby voice, though I know he’s not joking at all. God help her, she’s going to be the embodiment of all things female.
Currently, I snuggle our firstborn to my neck, the pup seeking out heat. He’s an oddball for sure. Not one of us can tell whether he’s Kellan’s or Finn’s. I suppose it doesn’t matter, but I wonder if that will happen to those of us who aren’t twins? Maybe it’s because they share the same exact DNA or something. Either way they all smell of Kitten, and even though one came from me and smells of me I don’t find myself placing him above the others. I love them all so mu
ch that I hardly know what to do with myself.
Remy returns with Mikey, letting him meet his brothers and sister, and letting the pups scent him as well. He doesn’t stay long, letting his mom sleep as he reports back to Maksim how everything in here is going. We take our cue from the kid, reluctantly letting the pups snuggle up with each other and their mom to bond. Sneaking out of the closet and down the hall a ways, we form a plan for the night.
“We still have a lot to do to get this place pup-proof,” Logan is explaining.
The rest of us agree, figuring out what we can get done without making too much noise. We don’t know when Kitten will feel like leaving her makeshift den, but she’ll need somewhere to go when she does. Our shared bedroom is practically ready, but I know she’ll never sleep in there with the pups. She’ll want to take them to the nursery.
Turns out we hadn’t needed to rush around getting the house together. Kitten and the pups haven’t left their little closet for nearly an entire week now. They mostly eat and sleep. Lots and lots of sleeping. Those of us who aren’t busy usually sit or nap with them, or bring in visitors. Besides Maksim, Albert, and Mikey, Kitten only allows those in wolf form to approach our pups. Maksim had explained that the pack would all want to take turns taking care of them, but so far Kitten only allows others to exchange scents and sometimes find a spot to curl up in the room with them. Mikey usually reads them stories, though I can tell it makes him sad that Kitten can’t communicate with him. He wants her back, and I don’t blame him; I do as well. We’ve all explained that this is just temporary and what the pups need right now to nurse and grow strong. I’m pretty sure he and Remy have accidentally named the copper-coated pup. He’s awake a lot more than his siblings, daring to venture further away from his mother than the others. He and Mikey have really bonded during those times, the pup always up for searching his older brother for snacks and something to chew on. Once Remy had witnessed this a few times he laughed, calling him his little Raider. The two of them have been calling him that ever since. We’ll have to see what Kitten makes of the name, but I quite like it. It’s fitting for the little guy. Makes we wonder what we’ll name the others.
Kitten
I love my babies, I really do, but I’m not sure how much longer I can stay in this room. Grandfather had told me that I’d need to stay a wolf for several weeks, but after just one I think I’m losing my mind. I miss my mates and Mikey. Having actual conversations and eating with a fork. My only entertainment is when other wolves stop by, or when the pups are awake and wreaking havoc.
Okay, so maybe scooting their little bodies around the room isn’t pure chaos, but it makes me a mess of nerves. I’ve had a lot of time to think, and I can’t fathom a way in which I don’t accidentally lose one of them or forget to feed one or something. Five is too many to ever look after properly. What happens when they start exploring more than this room? There are a million places they could hide and get lost. They’re little enough to get stepped on if people aren’t careful. Waking up this morning—at least I think it’s morning—I’ve come to realize that we can never leave this room. It’s just too dangerous. Shaking my head, I think back to the time I was worried about being a new mom to just one baby and messing it up.
Mikey pauses in his telling of Harry Potter as my red ball of fur finds a loose string in his pocket after practically climbing in, and pulls at it until he ends up rolling off his brother’s leg. He yips at the string like it’s the string’s fault he fell before he attacks it again. My all-black pup watches him momentarily before shooting an unamused look in his direction and balling himself up for a nap. My girl tries to go play with him but her Alpha brother places a paw on her back to keep her in place, causing her to whine in protest. The little blonde’s ears perk up at his sister’s whine, making him think she’s cold, as her smaller body usually is, and he pulls himself away from my neck to go snuggle with her. The tiny grey Alpha doesn’t appreciate the newcomer, and growls, but blondie puts a paw over his brother’s face to quiet him before dozing off happily next to their sister. I’ve come to note that he doesn’t really care what the others think; he does what he wants to, and nothing and no one can ruin his mood.
Mikey, having enough of his pocket lining getting tugged on, gently picks up Raider and moves him away, much to the little guy’s distress. Once that one sets his sights on something to play with, he’s relentless. Pulling a hard candy from his other pocket he unwraps it and puts it in front of Raider, letting him lick at the sugary treat. Satisfied he didn’t hurt his brother’s feelings, he gives us all a wave goodbye and leaves.
As soon as he leaves, I realize his mistake. As does the haughty little future Alpha. Almost like he was waiting for it the ball of fur makes his way to Mikey’s book, sniffing at the edges and pawing the cover. Getting the book open, he moves to stand on the open pages before I see his hind leg lift.
Snapping into motion, I move to save Mikey’s book. I don’t realize I’ve shifted back to human until I see my hand reaching out for the naughty furball. Two things happen at once. One: five human babies appear in the place of wolf pups. Two: my tiny troublemaker pees all over me. Luckily, the book is saved. Not so much for me or the blankets we were lying on.
“Oh, you little…” I huff. “I don’t know if you’re mean or just far too territorial.” I shake my head at the slightly-tanned little boy with dark fuzz for hair and big dark eyes staring up at me in shock.
The shock wears off and five extremely loud cries explode throughout the room. It startles me, having grown used to the tiny sounds of pups. These babies have extremely healthy lungs, it seems. Thankfully, my mates are always close by these days. Bursting through the door like the house is on fire, Jace and Logan’s faces are as shocked as mine.
“What happened?” Jace asks, his eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline.
I point at the baby still lying atop a book. “He peed on me,” I accuse.
Logan snickers, though he tries to hide it. “And that shifted the pups, how?”
I shrug my very human shoulder. “I don’t know, but I really need a shower,” I say over all the crying babies.
I reach out for my little Alpha, cradling him in my arms, letting him know I’m not actually mad at him. Babies make you weird, I’ve come to realize. Only they can literally pee on you and you still find it adorable. Logan picks up our girl in one arm and the redhead in the other. Jace grabs the other two, heading out into the hallway. My heart rate spikes as I lose sight of the babies, so I quickly move to follow him.
Jace has already handed off a baby to Tristan when I join them in our new living room. The only ones missing are Finn and Kellan. They busy themselves fawning over their first looks at the babies as I stand uncomfortably naked and covered in pee. I huff, handing the baby I’m holding to Remy before stalking away in search of a shower.
It only dawns on me later that I felt completely at ease leaving my pups in the care of their fathers. Standing under the hottest water I can handle I stretch my unused muscles, taking as much time as I want washing myself. Near the end of my blissful cleansing, Jace comes in to keep me company. I have to love Logan just a little harder for his design of this bathroom. With the spacious shower that rains water down from every direction to a tub that could pass for a small swimming pool, open to the room with plush benches and heated floors, it’s a level of luxury I could have never imagined.
Sitting on one of the benches, Jace bounces a green-eyed, black-haired baby on his lap as he watches me finish up. I admire his perfectly coifed hair, and long torso and arms clad in a white dress shirt. His happy expression makes him appear young and carefree as his gold eyes bounce between me and the baby. “I’ve missed you,” he tells me idly.
I smile over at him, toweling off. “I’ve missed you, too.”
I dress in a pair of light pink sweatpants and a cream cami, topped with an oversized knit sweater in dark grey. I move behind him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and burying my
nose in his neck.
Bringing my chin up to rest on his shoulder, I look over my baby boy in a footed-pajama set trimmed in red. He’s adorable. His tiny fingers are quite possibly the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. His big green eyes stare back at me, probably taking in my human features as much as I am his. He has a full head of shiny black hair, unlike the fuzz of our other dark-haired boy.
“They need names,” I say to Jace, my eyes still on the baby.
“They do,” Jace replies, turning his head to kiss my cheek. He stands, gathering the baby in his matching red blanket, then drapes an arm around my waist and ushers me from the bathroom.
Out in our new bedroom, my eyes track all the progress that’s been made in here since the babies were born. The bed has been put together, the pillows and blankets added, along with a spacious sitting area and small dining area in front of the balcony doors. That’s all I’m able to take in as my attention snags on the very large, very comfortable-looking bed with my entire family lounging on it.
My guys sit barefoot and relaxed around the group of babies who coo and gurgle happily in the center of them all. Mikey tickles the toes of one of his brothers as Logan looks to be struggling to get a pink onesie on my wiggly little girl.