Icing the Omega Read online

  “Do you want your peaches?” asked Carrick.

  I shook my head and started pacing. Slowly. The pressure was still mounting. Squeezing, intensifying. It had never felt like this before. I took several more deep breaths as the unrelenting pressure continued to build. I heaved a sigh of relief as it abruptly released.

  I sat back down on the bed with a sigh. I looked over the bowl of peaches, but certainly didn't feel very hungry.

  “Should I call Nolan?”

  “I… I don't know,” I said. “I think I'm okay.”

  Carrick picked up the remote and started flipping through channels, looking for something else to watch. We were about five minutes in to a movie when I felt the tightening start again. I put my hands over my belly and waited with trepidation as the tightening increased. Once again the pressure began to build until it was actually painful. This time, it hurt even more.

  “We should probably time it,” I said, as the pressure began to release it last.

  “I've got an app,” said Carrick. He pulled out his phone and start doing something with it.

  “Like a stopwatch?” I asked.

  “No, like a contractions timing app.” He mumbled the end as a flush crept over his cheeks. “My sister told me about it.”

  It was one of those things that I felt like the me from a year ago would've made fun of someone for doing, instead it made me smile at the thoughtfulness of my mate. It nearly brought tears to my eyes and I frowned.

  “Is another one starting?”

  “No, I'm just glaring because I was thinking something sappy,” I confessed.

  He leaned over and kissed me. “Blame it on the hormones,” he teased.

  It seemed like the contractions, if that's what they were, had stopped, so we settled back in to keep watching the movie. No sooner had I gotten comfortable, when it started again.

  “Time it,” I said, as soon as I began to feel the pressure building.

  Carrick swiftly started the app. “Try to breathe in and out slowly, like we talked about.”

  I nodded. It was really hard to concentrate on breathing evenly as the pressure built back into pain. It felt like my insides were being squeezed through a vice.

  “Even my dick hurts,” I grumbled. It was at that moment I realized I had never discussed the mechanics of shifter birth. “Please tell me it's not going to come out of my dick,” I cried.

  Carrick started laughing. “I'm sorry,” he gasped quickly getting himself back under control. “No, God no, it doesn't do that.” He covered his own groin up thought of it.

  “But…” I began, trying to figure out exactly how to phrase one of the stranger questions I had ever asked.

  “Yes,” Carrick said. He knew that wasn't what I meant, but answered the question well enough anyway.

  I sighed, both in nervous anticipation of what was to come and because the contraction had released again. “Time.”

  We sat for several minutes just waiting. I turned my attention back to the movie, knowing that as soon as I got into it another contraction would start. I was right. Carrick began to time it again. After five were logged in his app, he showed me the data. They were pretty evenly spaced and they were all lasting about the same amount of time.

  “I think this is it,” he said nervously.

  “I do too,” I said. Another contraction started and Carrick hit the timer.

  “This one's two minutes sooner than the others,” he said. “I'm going to call Nolan.”

  I nodded, not wanting to argue with that. I lay back against my pillows, trying to breathe evenly and deeply. The baby squirmed, and I wondered how uncomfortable this was for him.

  I tried to focus on the sound of Carrick’s voice as he talked to either Nolan or Avery on the phone, but the panicked edge to his tone wasn't terribly relaxing. At last, he hung up and rejoined me on the bed. “Nolan's on the way,” he said, taking my hand. “How are you doing?”

  “Just great,” I said. “Does he think this is the real deal?” Carrick nodded. The contraction reached its peak and I squeezed his hand as it did. He squeezed mine back with a groan. “Are you feeling it too?” He nodded. I smiled at him sympathetically. “I guess that's one of the downsides of the bond.”

  “Oh no,” he protested, shaking his head. “I'd rather have to endure this with you, than not.”

  I swatted his arm, feeling tears prick my eyes at his sentiments. “You’re sweet,” I told him to soften the blow.

  I rode out several more contractions, each more painful and sooner than the last.

  “This is insane.” I gritted my teeth as one contraction left me gasping. “I'm a hockey player, I'm supposed to be tougher than this! Hell, I suffered for years with crippling knee pain, and a few stupid contractions have me totally laid out.”

  “It is supposed to be one of the most painful things,” Carrick said.

  “Yeah, except I'm having magic male shifter babies,” I growled. “You think that would negate the labor pains!”

  “I guess it doesn't work like that,” Carrick said. I may have strangled him, luckily there was a knock at the door.

  Cambry stuck his head in, immediately. “Nolan just pulled up, and he looks pretty agitated. Is this it?”

  “What do you think?” I snapped.

  I considered apologizing for being rude, but Cambry just rolled with it. His smile widened. “Fantastic! You're going to be fine, don't you worry.”

  “I know, thank you.”

  “I was talking to Carrick,” he teased. “He's looking a little green.”

  I smiled, welcoming the levity.

  “I'm gonna go run interference and keep the family out,” Cambry offered.

  “Thank you,” Carrick said.

  Cambry nodded and vanished. Just moments later the door opened and Nolan and Avery bustled in, arms full of stuff. Rion was with them, carrying some equipment as well.

  “Don't mind me, I'm just helping them to carry this, and then I'm gone,” Carrick's eldest brother promised. “Good luck, everything is going to go smoothly,” he said to me. Then, he thumped Carrick on the back. “And just hang in there bro, it won't last that long.”

  True to his word, he left almost immediately. Avery and Nolan started setting things up. I grabbed the remote and started scrolling through channels, trying to do something to keep my mind off yet another mounting contraction. I found myself back on the sports channel and stayed there.

  “All right,” Avery said, “we're going to make sure that this isn’t a false alarm. And if it is really happening, we’ll get you prepped for an epidural, okay?”

  His timing couldn't have been better, I was right in the middle of the strongest point in the contraction. I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded. “Perfect,” I gritted out. “But I'm pretty sure this is the real thing.”

  Nolan and Avery expertly readied the bed to give me a place to lean back, propped up on pillows. I was kind of used to being on display now, so I spread my legs obediently and leaned back for Nolan. It involved a little more poking and prodding then I was used to, particularly around my anus, but I didn't complain. After all, I was about to push a baby out of there.

  “You are already seven centimeters dilated,” Nolan announced.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “It means this is the real deal,” he said. “When did the contractions start?”

  “Um…” I said, “I’m not really sure.”

  Luckily, Carrick had been paying attention and told him. He nodded in satisfaction.

  “Sounds like things are progressing quickly. Let's get that epidural ready.”

  Nolan started getting it ready, while Avery helped me sit up.

  “Now, listen closely,” Avery said. “Do you know how an epidural works?” I sort of shrugged. I had the general idea. “I'm going to have you lean forward with your elbows on your thighs, and Nolan is going to insert the needle into your spine. You need to stay still, so we're going to try to do it between cont
ractions. You’ll feel a little pinch, and you need to tell us if you can feel anything going to either side of your back, or if it feels like it's in the middle. Okay?”

  I nodded and got into the position. I glanced to my side at the TV as I waited for the needle. It was a commercial with a soccer player. He kicked the ball, missed, and fell over. Immediately, he began clutching his ankle and writhing in pain. The commercial cut to the same soccer player at the doctor, being told that he would probably be out for the rest of the season. I was torn between laughing at the pitiful excuse for an injury, and the memory of a doctor giving me that same news. My reaction quickly turned into a laugh as the doctor turned over his shoulder and asked, “And what's wrong with you?” It cut to a hockey player who lifted his arm, with an entire hockey-stick driven through it. “Just a splinter,” he said. The screen went black and the words Hockey Tough appeared.

  “No!” I cried, straightening.

  “Brooks?” Carrick gasped in alarm.

  “Are you okay?” Avery asked, backing up a step. I nearly bashed him in the face with my head when I straightened.

  “I don't want an epidural,” I said.

  Carrick shot a look of disgust at the TV. “Not because of that stupid commercial!” he said. “Brooks, don't.”

  It was mostly because of the commercial, but I had made up my mind. And whether it was hormones, or stupidity, or the commercial, I did not need an epidural.

  “I don't want an epidural, I repeated. I'm going to do this.” As I spoke, another contraction began to swell.

  “Okay,” Nolan said. “Avery, time those contractions and walk him through breathing.”

  Everyone went to their positions. It wasn’t long before a contraction started. Avery walked me through breathing in and out, and I made it through. I endured several more contractions, each worse than the last.

  “We're getting close now,” Nolan said, “I'm going to have you start pushing soon.”

  As another contraction ended, I opened my eyes to see Carrick gazing back at me, face creased in pain. Oh shit, I forgot that he could feel the contractions through our bond.

  “Are you okay?” I asked him. “If it's too much I can get an epidural.”

  “No, you can't,” said Nolan, sounding almost as if he was enjoying it. “You’ve already progressed too far for an epidural, it's time to push with your next contraction and it's too late for one. Besides, he doesn't feel the contractions nearly as strongly as you do.”

  “Even if I did,” Carrick protested, squaring his shoulders. “I'm hockey tough too, you know?”

  “Hockey stupid,” Avery snorted.

  Carrick took my other hand and held both of them tightly. “You ready to do this?” I nodded.

  A contraction started. Nolan took a position at the bottom of the bed and patted me on the foot.

  “Okay, get ready. Breathe! And push! Keep pushing, keep breathing, go go go!”

  I started pushing. Holy hell, and here I thought the contractions by themselves hurt. I clenched my fingers around Carrick’s and pushed with all my might.

  “And stop,” Nolan said. “Okay, take some deep breaths you're doing great.”

  “Where's the baby?” I asked in confusion.

  Nolan tried to hold back a laugh. “It doesn't just happen in one go, especially not with your first.”

  “I have to do that again?!”

  “I'm afraid so.” I could hear the amusement in his voice. A soft giggle escaped Avery's lips.

  “You won't be laughing when it's your mate,” Carrick snarled at him.

  “I should be so lucky,” Avery said wistfully.

  “Indeed, Nolan said solemnly. “Oh, to be blessed enough to have a true mate.”

  I smiled at Carrick as another contraction began. Sometimes it was hard for me to remember that some of these shifters had spent decades upon decades dreaming of finding what I had literally stumbled into. And then, my thoughts were quickly replaced by a string of cuss words as the contraction overtook me. I crushed Carrick fingers in mind the gasp of pain.

  “And push, push, push, push, push,” Nolan urged as another contraction hit me.

  Once again, I clenched my fists and pushed. It hurt more this time. A lot more. After the fifth contraction, I thought I was never going to be able to do this. Maybe it was just one big joke and I wasn't even pregnant.

  “I see the head,” Avery said calmly.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “Deep breath,” Nolan said, “and get ready to push again. And… push! Hard! Harder than you have before!”

  “Shit, shit, shitshitshit!” I gritted through my teeth. My cursing turned into a turned into a scream of pain and I was sure I felt something actually rip. My enhanced nose caught a strong whiff of blood.

  “Perineum,” Nolan said, “get some thread.”

  Avery nodded and moved aside. “Thread?” I asked. “What's the thread…” I trailed off as another contraction started.

  “You're in the home stretch,” Nolan said. “Get ready and push, this time don't stop!”

  I started pushing. I thought it hurt before, that was nothing compared to this. I pushed more and felt like I was pushing all of my guts out on the floor. I barely even heard when Nolan told me to stop. I just sagged back onto the bed, utterly exhausted. I was about to demand that he just pull the damn baby out, because there was no way I had it in me to push even a little bit more, when the air echoed with the sound of crying.

  A moment ago, I didn't even think I had the energy to blink, but the moment my son’s cry echoed through the air I jerked upright. He was a hideous, blood and slime covered little thing. I realized at that moment I had never seen a freshly born baby, just the clean babies on commercials, all wrapped in a blanket..

  They bustled about with him for a minute, calling out numbers and muttering with each other. Then, they brought him over to me, wrapped up neatly in a blanket. He had a little striped hat on his head and smelled vaguely of soap. I took him, marveling at how little he weighed as the bundle sank into my arms. I took my first look at his face. Had I thought he was ugly? He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Obviously, I just hadn't gotten a good look at him. Because even with the placenta or whatever it was all over him, there was no way he could be anything but beautiful.

  I looked at his face, seeing features that reminded me of people I knew. It was the strangest experience, short of being pregnant of course. He had Carrick's nose, minus a break or two. His cheeks actually looked like little Verona's. His mouth parted in a perfect little pout and for some reason I thought of my father.

  “Oh my God,” Carrick breathed from over my shoulder.

  “Does he need to eat?” I asked.

  “First,” Nolan said, “we need to get you all cleaned up. Why don’t you hand him over to Daddy and he'll come back to you in a minute.”

  I reluctantly allowed them to hand the baby to Carrick, but the moment the baby was in his arms I melted. He gazed down at our son with such love and affection that I never wanted my mate to put him down. It wasn't until I felt a sharp stabbing pain that my attention was directed from my little family and down to the doctor between my legs.

  “Ow! What are you doing?”

  “The baby tore you up a little bit coming out,” he said calmly. His words were punctuated by another little stab, and I realized he had a needle. “It’ll heal pretty quickly, but I want to sew it up to speed things along while you’re human. It may hurt a bit when you change, but it’ll be fine.”

  I nodded and turned my attention back to my mate and son, trying to ignore the little jabs. I felt like I should have been a little more alarmed by the idea that someone was sewing up a tear in my ass, but knowing how fast the bullet wound had healed, I wasn't terribly concerned. Funny, I thought, how quickly I was adapting to all the quirks of being a shifter.

  “You have a name yet? Nolan asked

  “We haven't really discussed it,” I admitted, embarrassed.
r />   “I figured we'd see what he looks like first,” Carrick said.

  “How about Wane?” Avery said with a chuckle.

  “Wane?” I asked, confused.

  “Yeah,” he laughed. “You know, as in Gretzky?”

  Carrick barked out a laugh, and our son jumped a mile. He rocked him, with a slightly softer chuckle. “That’s kind of cliché, although I do actually like the name,” he said.

  “I thought you meant wane like the phases of the moon,” I admitted. I hesitated and then added, “I noticed shifters seem to have slightly more um… unique names.”

  “Brooks says our names are weird,” Avery said in an exaggerated whisper to the doctor.

  “I didn't say weird,” I muttered in protest, well aware of the irony that my own name was a bit unconventional.

  “Wane,” Carrick mused. An odd smile crossed his face as he spoke and I knew he liked the name. As a matter-of-fact, I actually liked it too. With of course the added bonus of being similar to one of the greatest hockey players of all time.

  “With or without a y?” I asked.

  “Without,” Carrick said, “I think. Then the connection to the moon phases is little more obvious. Wane,” he murmured. “You like it?” Our son reached up an arm and waved it in front of him, as if answering.

  “I think we have a winner.”

  “Wane Silvanus. I like it.”

  Carrick sat down on the edge of the bed and angled the baby so that I could see him. I reached forward and brushed my finger across the downy soft wisps of hair on his forehead.

  “Hello Wane,” I whispered to him. “I'm your daddy.” They were words I started to believe I would never say. I leaned down to kiss him, breathing in his scent. I glanced up at Carrick, who was looking down at both of us with a loving smile. I felt my own smile widen. “We’re your parents,” I added.

  Wane cracked open a pair of dark, fathomless brown eyes and I fell in love all over again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Carrick

  I tapped the sealed envelope nervously against my fingers, knowing I had to mail it.