Page 88 of Rescued By Four Alphas
Am I still there… Still on Reid's table? My babies…
I open my eyes, and the blinding white light makes me shut them back. The sterile smell of antiseptic floods my nostrils, sending me spiraling instantly back to that room. That horrible, white room where Reid stood over me with his clipboard and various injections.
I try to scream, but only a dry rasp comes out. My arms flail, searching for the restraints I know must be there, and I feel tubing pull against my skin. It's happening again. They're going to take my babies. They're going to cut them out of me.
"Dahlia! Dahlia, you're safe. You're home."
A voice breaks through the panicked haze. It's familiar and it's warm. I know that voice.
"Leo?" I try to say, but it comes out as a broken whisper.
"I'm here, baby. I'm right here." His face comes into view, hovering above mine. His beard has grown a bit, his eyes are shadowed with exhaustion, but it's undeniably Leo. "You're home. You're safe now."
"I heard voices calling me," I whisper, my voice still hoarse. "In the darkness... A red string kept pulling me back."
Leo's eyes widen slightly, but before he can respond, another face appears beside him. Axl's hair is tangled, and his clothes are rumpled like he's been sleeping in them for days. His hands gently capture my wrists as I try to pull at the tubes in my arms.
"Easy, beautiful," he murmurs. "You need to keep these in. They're helping you."
My breathing comes in short, sharp gasps. I can't seem to fill my lungs properly. "My babies," I manage to croak out. "Where are my babies?"
My hands frantically search my abdomen, finding it flat and tender beneath the hospital gown. My babies are gone.
"Where are they?" I plead, "Please tell me they're alive. Please tell me Reid didn't take them."
"They're here," Leo says quickly, "They're all here and they're alive, Dahlia. All four of them. They're small, but they're fighters, just like their mama."
Relief crashes through me so powerfully that a sob erupts from my raw throat. "I want to see them," I beg. "Please, I need to see them."
Leo and Axl exchange a glance, then Leo nods. "I'll bring Nova first," he says, stepping away from the bed.
Axl sits beside me, one hand still gently restraining my wrist to keep me from disturbing the IV. His other hand smooths my hair back from my forehead in a tender, repetitive motion.
"You've been unconscious for 10 long days," he explains softly. "The doctors weren't sure when you'd wake up. You lost a lot of blood, and your heart stopped for almost a minute during the surgery."
My heart stopped. I died. The realization should be shocking, but somehow it feels distant, like he's talking about someone else.
Leo returns, carefully wheeling a small bassinet to my bedside. "This is Nova," he says, his voice filled with reverence. "Our daughter."
I push myself up slightly, wincing at the sharp pain that lances through my abdomen.
Inside the bassinet lies the tiniest baby I've ever seen. She's wrapped in a pink blanket, her small face peaceful in sleep. A knit cap covers her head, and wires connect to monitors that track her vital signs. She's so small.
"Nova," I whisper, reaching out with trembling fingers to touch her cheek. Her skin is like warm satin under my fingertips. "Is she... is she okay?"
"She's doing great," Leo assures me. "She was the smallest at birth, but she's gaining weight every day. The doctors say her lungs are strong."
"Can I... can I hold her?" I ask hesitantly.
Axl shifts to help support me as Leo carefully lifts Nova from her bassinet. "You need to stay still because of your incision," he explains. "I'll place her on your chest."
The moment Leo settles her tiny body against me, a dam breaks inside my chest. Tears stream down my face as I cradle my daughter. She weighs almost nothing, this precious miracle who survived against impossible odds.
"The boys?" I manage to ask through my tears.
"They're right here," Axl says, gesturing to the far side of the room where three more bassinets are lined up. "Would you like to meet them too?"
I nod, unable to form words. One by one, Axl and Leo bring my sons to me. Knox is the largest, with a strong grip already evident in the way he clutches my finger. Zane only opens his eyes briefly to gaze at me before drifting them closed again. And finally, Jaxon, the smallest of the boys, squirms against my touch.
