Page 67 of His Unicorn Alpha
“But…Brandt didn’t get to hold them,” I protested, feeling my heart break all over again. It didn’t seem fair that my mate hadgone through that entire ordeal and hadn’t held even one of his daughters.
“Two minutes,” Tammy said, bustling over with both babies in her arms. Brandt accepted them greedily, ignoring whatever Eric was doing to tidy him up post birth.
“Thank you,” Brandt’s voice was choked with emotion, and I felt the overwhelming love come rushing through our recently re-opened bond. I gasped and only barely managed to hold back my own sob as the cascade of feelings seemed to double my own.
Instead, I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and leaned in, pressing my cheek to his as we looked down at two of our babies together. He murmured low greetings to our girls, telling them how much we loved them and that we were so excited for them to meet everyone.
Then our daughters were whisked away by their uncle and his new assistant, and I felt Brandt's despair slam into me with such force that it took my breath away.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“You can’t live in the clinic, Bran.”
Despite hearing Day’s words, I did not look up from my seat in between two of our girls’ incubators. Instead, I kept my eyes glued to the barely noticeable rise and fall of our youngest’s chest. I was still aware of the silent conversation taking place between my mate and my young friend, though.
It had been three days since I’d given birth. Three agonizing days of not having free access to my children. Of having to watch machines and tubes support their growth, while I fought with the torture device better known as an electric breast pump.
I felt like a failure as a father.
Not only had I not been able to carry them long enough to be able to take them home with me, I was also unable to provide enough milk to properly nurture them. Eric, Tammy, and Casey (the other neonatal expert Eric had brought in from a local hospital), had all tried to reason with me, reminding me that most chestfeeding parents’ milk supply didn’t come inuntil at least day three, but I was determined to at least provide colostrum to my newborns in their first days.
It was a blow to my pride and my confidence when they suggested that, until my supply came in, we supplement with formula.
I knew it was a wise decision, and I had never bought into the formula vs breastmilk debate, but I had envisioned bonding with my babies through chestfeeding and having those dreams dashed hurt. A lot.
As did being unable to hold my girls at all.
To overcompensate, I had sat myself in the hospital-grade neonatal unit Eric had commissioned and built for the clinic, and I had insisted on keeping vigil over my children. I only left the room to use the bathroom, becoming increasingly upset every time I was confronted by the evidence of my postpartum bleeding. It was a reminder of everything I was going through, and I hated it.
“You can leave,” I told them both, still not taking my eyes off my baby. She needed a name. All three did. But I refused to name them until I could hold them. “But I am staying here.”
“Sugar,” Micah’s voice was tinged with sadness and an edge of frustration, “you need to rest and recover properly. You’ve barely eaten, barely stayed hydrated…Your dark circles have circles.”
“I will eat when—”
“No.” While he didn’t raise his voice, the hairs on the back of my neck tingled. I had never heard my alpha use his alpha power before, and it made my stomach turn to think he was using it on me. “Youwilltake care of yourself.” When I tore my gaze from our daughter and looked at him —really, truly looked at him for the first time in days— I saw my own heartache radiating back at me. His expression softened and he crouched at my feet, squeezing my knee. “Baby, I know this sucks, but wasting awaynext to them isn’t going to help them. They need you to take care of yourself so, when it’s time to bring them home, you will be there for them one hundred percent.” He swallowed roughly. “I’ve been doing research, and I think…I think maybe some of the problems you’re having with the pump can be attributed to dehydration and not eating enough. How are you supposed to make food if your body doesn’t have the energy to keep itself going, you know? And the stress and pressure you’re putting on yourself…”
My eyes stung and I looked away, knowing that he was right. But as my gaze landed on our tiniest child, the urge to stay and protect them welled up inside me again.
“They’re safe here,” Day assured me from the doorway. I had forgotten that he was there at all, and I cringed internally at how disconnected from my surroundings I had become. “If Eric isn’t here keeping an eye on things, I am. Or Ollie is. Or, hell, even Beck. Not one member of our pack is going to leave the girls unattended with outsiders, no matter how nice they might seem.”
Considering Damon’s son had almost been kidnapped by our cult-like adversaries, I knew that his vehement protective instinct was coming from personal experience, not just our friendship or connection through the pack. Still, the thought of going home —to the place where our daughters had cribs and clothing waiting for them— and not bringing them with me was upsetting.
“Your babies are safe here,” Day repeated himself. “They’re thriving and getting stronger every day. But you’re not.”
“Come home with me, sugar,” Micah practically begged. “Come home, have a shower, eat something substantial…and then tomorrow morning I will bring you back here myself, okay? We can sit with our girls all day. We’ll do it every day until theycome home. But you have to take care of yourself or let me take care of you, too. That’s non-negotiable.”
I wasn’t going to win this battle. Deep inside, I knew that if it had been any other omega in my place, I would have been insisting on the same things that my mate and friend were.
Sighing, I nodded. “Fine. But I will return as soon as the sun rises.”
Micah squeezed my knee again. “And I’ll be right here with you.”
Walking across the threshold of my home without my babies in my arms hurt. It feltwrong. My stretched, flabby abdomen was barren, and my nest was empty. Inside me, my omega whined — not a sound I would have associated with dragonkind, but he whined nonetheless.
I knew that there were parents who had lost children. I knew that there were parents of children with health issues so severe, they may never leave the hospital. In the grand scheme of things, I knew what I was experiencing did not compare to the pain other families had experienced and would continue to experience once this trying time in my life had passed. Nevertheless, knowing as much did not mean I could simply snap out of my sadness over my situation.
I wished that I could.
