When She Needs Them Most
: Chapter 34

Arden is at Chelsea’s side on the hospital bed. She writhes around with her hands digging into the sheet as her legs twitch. Lincoln paces the floor bare, watching the door, like he’s as anxious as I am for someone to get in here and do their damn job.

They brought us into a delivery room and got Chelsea into a gown and all hooked up to the monitor. The nurse was nice enough, but she had to stab Chelsea twice to get a vein for her IV.

My instincts are in hyper-protective alpha mode, and they’re making me irrational, but fuck, I need the doctor to show up and check Chelsea and the baby out.

Arden already reminded me how capable nurses are, and I get it. I just don’t know how to shut off the part of my head that is stressed to the max.

My anxiety is sky-high.

I’m about to freak out on the next person who walks through that door, unless it’s the anesthesiologist.

Him or her? I’ll gladly shake their hand as soon as my omega is no longer experiencing the worst pain I’ve ever felt… And that’s what’s filtering through the bond.

It’s almost incomprehensible that Chelsea is handling this and worse without screaming at the top of her lungs.

Not that I’d mind if she did. It might put a little pep in the doctor’s step.

Things improve once Chelsea gets the epidural. She’s no longer in agony every three minutes, but the nurse says her labor will slow a little.

Whatever the hell that means.

She’s seven centimeters dilated and a bunch of stuff about effaced that I don’t understand.

Arden and Lincoln head down to the cafeteria to grab a coffee, and I take the opportunity to snuggle at Chelsea’s side. Honestly, I think Arden wanted to give Linc a pep talk about calming down. He’s even more stressed than I was when I planned the anesthesiologist’s untimely demise. Which came before Chelsea got the good drugs. I’m fine now, but our little omega is beat.

She jolts, and her head rolls until she can look at me. Her hand comes to rest on my chest, and she pats my shirt. “I think I dozed off. I thought I never met you guys, and I was having the baby completely alone.”

The epidural blocks some of my access to her in the bond, but a heavy wave of sadness radiates in my chest.

“God, no way. I’m right here,” I assure her, rubbing my fingers over her cheek. I wish I could pull her all the way over to rest on me, but she needs to keep the epidural access point on the sterilized sheets. That’s what the nurse who came with the anesthesiologist said, and I’m not about to disregard that advice.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Her head falls back against the hospital bed.

“I know you’re tired, but at some point, your body will take over, and the contractions will help her pop right out,” I say, because I’m pretty sure that’s how nature works. It takes a few seconds of her slow blinking at me to recognize that’s not what she meant.

“With the epidural, I can barely feel anything, so maybe you’re right,” she says, sounding exhausted. “That wasn’t what I meant, though. It doesn’t feel right to do this without Clark, and I don’t want to hurt your feelings. I’m so grateful to have the three of you. I’m just sad. Everything feels tainted by loss.”

Ahh, this is why my mom gave me that pep talk. “It’s okay to grieve for him and what he’s going to miss out on, but don’t be afraid to celebrate the gift you’re about to be given, either. He wouldn’t want you to focus on the bad right now. That’s just my take. I don’t think he would want that for you.”

“Thanks, Kase.” She tilts her head up.

I push my lips to hers for an emotion-filled kiss in which I try to pour all my strength into her. If she needs a little extra reassurance, I can provide that for her. She’s barely slept in days. The bond says she’s just exhausted, but once Luna arrives, I think that will help.