Page 55 of Brutal Alpha

Epilogue - Julia

“You absolute bastard. You no-good knothead motherfucker!”

I paced up and down the kitchen, though I was fast approaching the point at which that would no longer be helpful. Ethan hung back like a coward, not wanting to get too close.

“I know you’re in pain,” he started, which was the understatement of the century.

“And whose fault is that?” I snapped.

“I mean, it takes two to—” he started, but I was not having it.

“I don’t want to hear it, Ethan. You did this to me, and I will never forgive you.”

Before he could attempt any retort, Alyssa bustled into the kitchen, looking far too cheerful. There were clean towels draped over her arm, and she moved the kettle onto the stove as if this were her home rather than mine.

“Sounds like someone’s ready to start pushing,” she said. “Come on, grumpy, let’s move you to your nest.”

Sitting down did sound amazing. My back hurt, my ankles had been swollen for weeks, and my belly jutted out in front of me like I was carrying a beach ball with me everywhere I went. The contractions were coming faster now, too, with barely any respite between each fresh wave of pain. I allowed Ethan to guide me through to the living room, where he and Alyssa had set up a birthing nest for me, lowering me into the pile of blankets and pillows.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, settling two large pillows behind my back to prop me up.

“I haven’t been comfortable for two months,” I grumbled, and Ethan tutted in sympathy. He knew full well how uncomfortable I’d been, as he was the one who’d had to rub my feet, bring me food, and arrange my pillows for the past few months. Now, he was preparing to stay by my side while I screamed, cried, and pushed our child into the world.

This was the part I had been trying not to think about. I knew it would have to happen eventually, and I wanted it to happen. I wanted to meet my and Ethan’s child, to hold them in my arms, to give them a name, to watch them grow up. The problem was that my own mother had never gotten to do any of that. This process had killed her.

I didn’t have to say I was scared; as ever, the bond gave me away, and Ethan’s hand found mine, squeezing gently.

“You’re gonna do great, beautiful,” he whispered. I squeezed his hand in return. If nothing else, I knew he would be a good father, that he would have Alyssa and Caleb to help him if the worst should happen. I tried not to think about the worst happening.

When Alyssa bustled in with her towels and a large bowl of steaming water, my heart started to beat faster. Despite how much I trusted her, how determined I was to get through this, I couldn’t help fearing the worst. The pain was growing with every second; I didn’t know how anyone survived this. Ethan pressed a soft kiss to my temple.

“You can do it,” he told me. “You’re the bravest person I know, remember?”

“Yeah. Yeah,” I said, though I didn’t quite believe him. Being brave was one thing; creating a whole new life was another. How had Alyssa done this alone? I felt like I was goingto fall entirely apart, even with my mate and best friend to help keep me together.

“Open up for me,” Alyssa said, settling in front of me and tapping my knees. I spread my legs; I’d gotten over my best friend staring me straight in the vagina over the past few hours, so I did it without hesitation. Alyssa’s eyes widened.

“Yep, we’re ready to push,” she said. “Make sure you keep breathing through it, okay?”

I could only nod, and Alyssa petted the inside of my calf, soothing.

“Alright,” she continued, low and calm. “I’m gonna count to three, and then you’re gonna push, okay?”

“Okay,” I managed to reply, my voice shaking. Ethan dropped a kiss to my shoulder.

“Squeeze my hand as hard as you need to. I’ve got you,” he said. He sounded so sure, so confident in my ability to do this. I took a deep breath. I could do this.

“One, two, three, push.”

It was a whole new kind of pain. For however many seconds, minutes, or hours I pushed, I felt like I was being split open. My world narrowed to Alyssa’s voice—one, two, three, push—and Ethan’s hand in mine, along with the unceasing work of my body to push my baby out into the world.

The delivery itself was over before I knew it. One minute I was pushing with all my might, the next, I felt my child rush out of me, and then several things were happening at once: Alyssa’s hands were full of bloodstained baby, patting their little back until a wavering cry filled the room, and Ethan’s voice was in my ear, telling me I’d done it, that I was incredible, but I could barely hear him. I was utterly focused on the baby in Alyssa’shands, wriggling and crying in her grip. Poor thing. That whole experience couldn’t have been any more fun for them than it was for me. He was bloody and scrunched up from his journey into the world, still connected to me by the spongy cord that disappeared into his belly. He was a little miracle, and I loved him on sight.

“Oh my god,” I breathed. “It’s a baby.”

“It’s a baby,” Ethan confirmed, beaming, as he cut the cord connecting us with the clean knife Alyssa handed him.

“Would you like to know what kind of baby it is?” Alyssa prompted. She was carefully cleaning my child in a clean bowl of water, rinsing away the blood and gunk to reveal the baby’s delicate, wrinkly pink skin. I was captivated.

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