Page 64 of His Unicorn Alpha
He steeled his jaw and nodded. “Okay.” I could see his anxiety written plainly on his face, but I didn’t feel it through our connection. I assumed he was shielding his concern from me, and I appreciated it. I had enough of my own. Licking his lips, he asked, “What do you need me to do?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
When I had told my girls that I would meet them soon, I hadn’t actually meant that I would meet them that same day. We weren’t ready. It was too soon. They would besopremature and one of them was already too small, and—
I stopped and took a breath, the pain on Brandt’s face a sharp reminder that I had to keep my shit together.
“Call Eric,” he replied after riding out another contraction. I couldn’t feel his pain through the bond, and I wasn’t sure if that was because he was shielding me from it, or because something in the magic knew not to incapacitate us both. “Let him know to prep the incubators.”
I didn’t understand how he could be so calm about it. About knowing that our girls would need special care for some unknown amount of time. About knowing that they probably wouldn’t be coming home with us for days, if not weeks.
At least being in the incubators will keep them safe and healthy,I reminded myself.
It hadn’t been that long since Eric and Brandt had purchased the supplies for a neonatal nursery in the lab. A handful ofweeks, really. Eric had spoken to the staff at the two nearest hospitals, too, letting them know that we may request assistance in order to properly care for three premature infants. For all that Brandt and Eric were both doctors, neither of them had that level of experience or knowledge in pediatric medicine. As far as we knew, Eric’s promises to make healthy donations to the hospitals in question ensured that, when he put in the call for help, we would receive it.
Now that Brandt was in labor, I really hoped that help would arrive.
I climbed out of the tub and headed over to our pile of discarded clothes, digging through them in search of either one of our phones. I grabbed my jeans first and found my phone, bringing Eric’s contact information up before pressing the green call icon.
“Come on,” I huffed into the sound of the call ringing, “come on, come o—oh, thank God,” I cut Eric off as he answered, barely getting out the ‘he’ part of ‘hello’. “Brandt’s in labor.”
I didn’t know whether to be relieved or irritated when Eric barely reacted. “Okay. I’m assuming it’s only the early stages, so we have some time to get organized.”
“He…he said you should get the incubators ready. And, uh, maybe call those doctors or nurses or whoever was on standby to help out with the girls.”
“I’m already on it,” he assured me. “How is he doing? Is he feeling contractions? How far apart are they? Has his birth canal started—”
“How about I put him on the line?” I felt out of my depth and kind of useless as an alpha, but I didn’t want to get the answers wrong. This was my mate and children’s health we were talking about, and I wasn’t a medical professional. I was a makeup artist, for fuck’s sake. Trying not to panic, I thrust the phone infront of Brandt and hit the speaker phone icon on the screen. “You’re on speaker.”
For his part, Brandt gave me an almost amused raise of his eyebrow before he calmly answered Eric’s questions, wincing and rubbing his belly midway through the call.
“Because this is a higher risk pregnancy than the others have been, I think you should come down here as soon as you’re able,” Eric advised, making my pulse spike. “We need to get some steroids into you for their lungs. We can also monitor your progress more closely and can intervene if there are any complications. Are you good with that?”
“Of course,” Brandt agreed readily. “I am currently in the bath, but Micah will help me out and we will be there soon.”
“Yeah, maybe we’ll aim for a water birth next time,” Eric joked, and I felt myself go pale. Oblivious, he said, “See you soon,” and ended the call.
“Micah…” Brandt gently pushed my hand, holding the phone, towards my chest. “I am fine.Weare fine.”
No thanks to me,I thought with derision, but I shooed the thoughts away and nodded. “I know. But, they’re still so early…”
“We knew that would be likely,” he soothed. “Multiples usually are. And there are three of them sharing very limited space in here,” he rubbed his bump. “They will do better with space to grow and develop further with adequate medical care. And I” —he paused to grimace— “I will do better once my body is my own again.”
I was still anxious, but I understood that he knew better than me when it came to these things. “Let’s get you out of there, then.”
“I take it back,” Brandt complained hours later, bent over the side of the hospital bed as another contraction wracked his body, “I take it all back. This is torture.”
I rubbed his back, unsure what to say or what to do to help him.
“I cannot even blame you,” he continued to complain, “because I did this to myself.”
“You can blame him for the next one,” Eric informed him with an easy shrug. “And potentially for inducing your labor, too.”
“Eric!” Brandt snapped his head up and glared at his brother.
“Wait,” I looked between them, “what? This is my fault?”
“No.” My mate’s voice was forceful.
