Page 114 of The Omega's Alpha
Fuck, yeah, if this was what labor was like all the way through, damn right I was going to push. I grabbed for Quin’s hands and braced myself with them, then pushed so hard that, by rights, the pup tunneling his way out through my insides should have shot across the room and into the wall.
Unfortunately for me, the pup had a totally different idea. My belly relaxed and I had about a minute to rest and catch my breath before he was demanding to come out again and I was pushing and watching the way my belly changed shape with startled fascination.
And then finally, after too many of those episodes, he was out, and Adelaide was cleaning out his nose and his mouth and he was crying his frustration at being out in the air. My arms already ached to hold him and when Adelaide carried him up to lay him on my chest I could have cried for happiness.
“He’s perfect,” I whispered, stroking the tiny cap of black hair. His wails shrank to tiny whimpers, then disappeared as Bax put a soft blanket over him.
“Don’t want him to get cold,” he said in a low voice and kissed my cheek.
Quin’s hand was almost as big as the baby’s whole torso, but his fingers floated gentle as dandelion fluff over our son’s still-damp hair and reddened cheeks. “He’s got your hair,” he said. He smiled at me, but it was distracted and I was soon forgotten in the wonder that was our baby boy.
We only had a few minutes of quiet with the baby before my belly squeezed down again to finish emptying my womb. Gentle hands cleaned my skin and then carefully closed the gap of my omega line and laid soft cotton over it, wrapping my hips to keep the covering in place. Then Adelaide was at my side with a length of thread and a pair of scissors.
“We can cut the cord and wash him now,” she said, wrapping the thread around and around his umbilical cord and then snipping through it. “Bram, can you take this out?” She piled the length of the cord into a sheet along with the rest of the remnants of the birth and folded the sheets around it. “There’s a bag in the hallway it can go in.” She turned and Bax put a tub of water in her hands, a soft cloth hanging over the side. “Let’s get this little fellow cleaned up, then you can get him dressed or wrap him in a blanket, whatever you want.” She set the tub down in the hollow of my waist and dipped the cloth into the warm water, then handed it to me. “Be careful around the soft spot on his head.”
I knew that, but I nodded to her anyway and began slowly wiping off the mess of birth, carefully stroking it away from every inch of skin while he squirmed and protested with his sweet, tiny baby noises, until he smelled of nothing but baby and clean and love.
Bram brought me a beautiful knitted blanket to wrap him up in, the tiniest of stitches in all the colors of the rainbow. I wrapped my little boy up and cradled him in my arms. Quin held me against him, his arms wrapped around my shoulders so he could hold our son with me.
Jason stuck his head in the door wearing a face-splitting grin. “I have a couple of someones here who’d like to meet their little brother.”
“Come in,” Quin told them. “But be careful of him.”
“Yes, I know,” Dorian said as he scrambled up onto the mattress. “He’s small and squishy.” He peered curiously over my arm into his brother’s face. “Hello, squishy.”
Quin buried his face in my hair and snorted with laughter. “Poor kid’s going to have the nickname forever,” he murmured.
“I don’t care,” I said, and leaned so Agatha on my other side could see him. “Here’s your big sister,” I told the baby in a low voice.
“He’s funny looking,” she said in a puzzled voice.
“Babies usually are,” Bax explained. Then to me, he said, “Have you thought of names?”
“We have.” I tilted my head back to look up at Quin.
He smiled and kissed my temple. “His name is Zane,” he said firmly, “It means beloved.”
“That’s an omega name,” Agatha observed.
“It is,” I said, and that seemed to satisfy her.
Zane began to root against my chest, awkward and confused, knowing there was something he wanted, but not quite certain what to look for. I lifted him, dragging his cheek over my nipple. Already I could feel the tingle in it, and through the whole of my chest, a rushing feeling as if my love was itself moving to nourish my child. He suddenly seemed to recognize what it was he needed, and latched onto my nipple, making plaintive noises at the slowness my body’s response to his demands.
But eventually my body caught on to what it needed to do and Zane settled in to take his first meal outside my womb and when I next looked up, we were alone in the room, just me, my mate, and our babies.
Chapter Ninety-One
Iwas havinga lazy morning with Zane, lying around in bed with one of Bax’s novels, a cup of peppermint tea, and the baby napping happily on my chest. At two weeks, he’d lost that squashed newborn appearance and was utterly stunning. Not that his father and I hadn’t been his slaves completely from the moment he was born, but it seemed every day tied him closer to my heart and while I knew that someday I’d see him running off to play with friends, having sleepovers, dancing on full moon with his suitors, at the moment I couldn’t imagine letting him get more than an arm’s-length from me.
The book was interesting, but not nearly as interesting as my baby and I found myself setting it aside to spend my time watching every twitch and movement he made.
It was nearly lunchtime when he woke, making those small, querulous noises of his that I found so adorable.
“How’s my baby boy?” I cooed at him, and scooped him up from the bed. “Hungry?” He made another of those noises and turned his face toward me. “Ah, youarehungry. Growing boy. That’s good.” I wiggled up the bed to rest my back against the headboard and put him to my breast. He latched right on and the noises stopped, replaced by the contented sounds of a baby who wanted for nothing.
A noise in the doorway made me look up. Quin stood in the opening, a fond expression on his face. “I think he’s grown just since this morning.”
“This is the third time he’s eaten since you left, so I wouldn’t be surprised.” I turned my face up for a kiss and watched with immense pride as Quin bent to press a kiss to the baby’s head and stroked his fingers across the fine, dark hair.
