Page 104 of The Librarian and Her Alphas

My body trembles with exhaustion, and tears stream down my face as I clutch one of my newborns protectively to me, hoping against hope that their fathers make it out alive. Annabelle and Paige work together to clean off the babies using the blankets they’ve gifted me.

The snarling and growling have suddenly stopped, and fear grips my heart, hoping the worst hasn’t come.

An eerie silence settles over the library, and then I hear the soft padding of paws as Damon, Max, and Gunnar approach the storage room in their wolf forms.

Damon lets out a long howl when he sees that our babies are born already and crying. Annabelle and Paige scoot away from him, intimidated by his massive size and the fierce look on his face.

I’m elated to see them safe and alive.

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite,” I say, smiling as he gives them a wolfish grin before stepping closer to sniff his pups. Max and Gunnar join him, their big bodies crowding me as they tenderly sniff their offspring and lick my face and neck.

The three alphas transform back into their human forms, naked as the day they were born. I bite my lip to keep myself from laughing at Annabelle and Paige’s expressions, but the alphas don’t notice. Max tenderly picks up one of his sons and Gunnar the other, cooing at them softly and kissing their tiny faces.

“My beautiful, strong Lena,” Damon whispers, dropping to his knees to cup my face. His gaze is soft as he looks at me. “You’ve given me the most precious gift I could ever ask for.”

He kisses me tenderly before picking up his daughters and holding them close to his chest. The sight makes my heart swell.

“You’re in trouble,” I murmur, and he looks at me sharply.

“Why?” he asks in confusion.

“Those little girls are going to have you wrapped around their fingers,” I say.

“They already do,” he says, chuckling.

The sound of sirens cuts through the ringing in my ears. It starts faint but grows louder by the second until it drowns out everything else.

Lights flicker red and blue across the broken library windows, casting eerie shadows across the ruined bookshelves and glass-covered floor.

They’re here. The sound of the front doors slamming open.

“EMS!” someone yells, their voice echoing through the chaos, fast, heavy footsteps rushing through the library.

“In here!” barks Max.

Three paramedics storm in, uniforms dark, eyes alert, and scanning the situation. One speaks into a radio clipped to his shoulder while another has gloves on.

“Where’s the mother?”

Annabelle steps forward, waving frantically from the doorway. “In here! She just gave birth—quadruplets! It happened fast. She didn’t even make it out of the room!”

I can hear them moving closer into the dark storage room, the sound of their boots on tile mixing with the softer, faster breaths of my babies. My arms are full, one baby against my chest, the others safe in the arms of my alphas as pain throbs in my center.

“She’s right here,” Paige says, her hand on my shoulder.

A medic kneels next to me. His hands are warm and steady as he checks my pulse. “Hey there, Mama. Can you tell me your name?”

“Lena,” I whisper. “They’re okay, right? My babies…”

“We’re checking them now,” he says gently, nodding toward them. “Small, but stable. You did good.”

Another medic begins checking the babies, clamping cords, and wrapping them in clean, warm blankets pulled from a supply bag. He speaks quietly, calmly, but efficiently, and I catch words like “heart rate good,” “pink color,” and “neonatal transport.”

“We’re going to take you all in,” the lead medic tells me. “County Sun Hospital. NICU is ready.”

I nod weakly, too tired to speak. My body feels like it’s made of glass and sand—fragile and heavy, all at once.

Damon leans over me, brushing the hair from my damp forehead as the medics lift me onto a stretcher.

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