Page 73 of Rescued By Four Alphas
"Yes." He looks towards the storage room for a brief second. "Make sure she's fine." I nod and sprint toward the storage door. Leo's face distorts as he transforms, and gunfire erupts behind me.
I'm ten steps away, then five, then at the door itself.
I reach for the handle just as the most heart-wrenching sound I've ever heard pierces through my head. The sound drives through me, and it sends my wolf reeling. I push at the door, but it doesn't budge.
And then I hear a sound so small yet so powerful it freezes the blood in my veins. Unlike Dahlia's screams of pain, this sound is new, fragile, and filled with life.
From inside the storage room comes the unmistakable cry of a newborn baby.
My hand stops an inch from the door handle, my entire body rigid with shock as the tiny wail continues. Time seems to stop,and the gunfire fades to a distant roar as that slight, perfect sound fills my universe.
The babies are here.
Chapter 22 - Dahlia
The explosion rocks the walls around me, and dust rains from the ceiling like dirty snow. I grip the edge of the metal shelf so hard, but the pain tearing through my abdomen makes everything else fade to background noise.
"What the hell was that?" Marianna whispers, her hands frozen halfway through tearing open a package of gauze.
I can't answer because another contraction slams into me, and my vision blurs at the edges. I bite down on my lip so hard I taste copper. The metallic tang mixes with the antiseptic smell of the storage room and creates a cocktail that makes my already churning stomach revolt.
"I don't care what it was," I gasp when I can finally speak. "The babies... oh God, they're coming now."
Gunfire erupts somewhere above us, the rapid pop-pop-pop echoing through the ventilation system. Marianna's face goes pale, but her training kicks in. She drops to her knees beside me to push my hospital gown up.
"I can see the head," she breathes. "Dahlia, you need to push with the next contraction."
"I can't do this here." Tears stream down my face. "Not like this. They're too early."
"You don't have a choice." Marianna's voice turns firm and authoritative. "These babies are coming whether we're ready or not."
The next contraction starts low in my back and crashes forward until it consumes every nerve in my body. I bear down with everything I have, my body taking over with an instinct older than the sounds coming from my throat, that don't sound human.
"That's it! I can see the shoulders," Marianna encourages, her hands positioned to catch. "One more push, Dahlia. Just one more."
I push until stars explode behind my eyelids, until my lungs burn from holding my breath, until I'm sure I'm going to split in half. Then, suddenly, there's a release so intense that I nearly black out from relief.
The baby doesn't cry.
My heart stops beating in my chest. The silence stretches like a rubber band about to snap, and panic floods my system with ice-cold terror.
"Is..." I can't finish the question.
Marianna works quickly, clearing the tiny airway with her finger, then turning the baby over and rubbing her back. The seconds tick by like hours. Then, like a miracle, the most beautiful sound in the world fills the cramped storage room.
"She's breathing," Marianna says, tears making her voice thick. "She's small, but she's breathing."
My daughter. My little girl. Marianna wraps her in clean gauze; it's all we have. Then, she places her on my chest. She's so tiny, so perfect, with a cap of dark hair and the tiniest fingernails I've ever seen. Her skin has a bluish tint that makes my chest ache with worry, but her eyes are open and staring up at me.
"Hi, baby girl," I whisper. "I'm your mama."
She makes a soft mewing sound and tries to turn toward my voice. This tiny person, this miracle, came from me. From us.
But even as I hold her, I can feel the other three babies moving restlessly inside me. My body isn't done. Not even close.
Heavy footsteps thunder down the corridor outside, getting closer. Marianna freezes, her eyes wide with fear.
"They found us," she breathes.
