I gritted my teeth and leaned forward, bearing down and pushing as hard as I could without passing out. Katharine held my hand, and I probably squeezed it too tightly, but she didn’t pull away or complain.
I felt tearing and burning, and if that wasn’t frightening enough, blood was staining my gown across my chest.
Katharine leaned away from me. “Relic, her wound is bleeding.”
“We don’t have time. Lexi, push!”
My extremities were numb, as were my lips. How much blood have I lost? Oh God, what if I die?
I shoved away my thoughts and gathered all the strength I could.
Push.
Push.
A riptide of pain became an unbearable obstacle that I had to overcome. I imagined labor as a steep hill, and in order to live, I had to climb to the top, where Austin was waiting with our baby in his arms. The suffering would end if I just kept going until I reached the top.
“I can’t,” I whispered, falling back. “I’m dizzy.”
“Stop, stop,” he said, rising to his feet. “Lexi, what’s wrong?”
“Dizzy,” I whispered, looking to Katharine. “I’m going to fall.”
“Her skin is like ice,” she said, her warm hand on my forehead.
Edward circled around the bed and lifted my gown. He released the nozzle on my tube and a hiss sounded, bringing me temporary relief. “It’s almost over, Lexi. I can see the head. One last push and it’s all over. Can you do that for me?”
“What if I pass out? I won’t be able to shift,” I said weakly, out of breath.
His mouth was moving, but I could no longer hear what he was saying. The pain consumed me—from the wound ripping open my shoulder to the bowling ball trying to force its way into the world.
“You’re so impatient,” I whispered, my words for the baby. “Just like your mother. I just hope you’re strong like your father.”
“What’s she saying?” Katharine asked.
They drifted to the end of the bed, and she yelled for me to push. This time I didn’t hold back.
Another pressing ache wrapped around me like a vise, so I pulled my knees up and pushed with every ounce of strength I had left. After this, I wouldn’t be able to go on any longer. It was my last chance to save my baby.
I wailed, the shout turning into a feral growl. I couldn’t see anything, but I felt my baby fighting to come into this world. The moment it happened, I felt relief and emptiness all at once. The struggle was over.
“What’s happening?” I whispered, trying to see.
Katharine joined my side, wiping the sweat from my face with a cloth. “It’s over. Just lie still and shift.”
“But my baby… Where’s my baby? Why isn’t he crying?”
Edward appeared, listening to my heart with a stethoscope. He tossed it aside and quickly removed the catheter from my chest. “Lexi, I want you to shift.”
I shook my head, sobbing—choking on my salty tears. “I can’t—”
“You must, or you’ll die. Every second counts.”
“But the bullet…”
Edward shook his head. “We don’t have time for that.”
“Please… I have to see my baby. Just for one second. That’s all I want.”
“One second could kill you.”
It didn’t matter. He didn’t understand. I needed to look at my baby.
Edward exchanged glances with Katharine and moved out of sight. He returned with a small bundle swaddled in a blanket and placed it on my chest while Katharine held it in place.
I reached up and peeled the blanket back. “A boy. Austin was right,” I said, my voice weak.
His mouth was open, and it wasn’t until then that I heard him crying. Not loudly—just a few small whimpers.
“He’s fine,” Edward assured me. “Strong alphas rarely cry at birth. That’s how a Relic can often tell the alphas apart.”
I blinked away my tears and noticed how calm he seemed nestled against my chest, listening to the sound of my heart, which now beat for him.
So beautiful.
So precious.
I kissed his warm head, covered in black hair. “Hi, handsome.”
He was a few weeks early but didn’t look premature at all. Just as stout and healthy as any mother could hope for in a newborn. And then there were all those tiny little pink fingers—ones that splayed and tightened, uncertain of what to grab hold of, so I let him wrap his tiny hands around my finger.
My heart slowed to an unsteady beat, and I pressed a petal-soft kiss against his head and whispered, “Please, God. Just one more second.”
Chapter 32
Austin wrung his hands repeatedly until they turned a blistering red. After his wolf had left the room, he paced the hall, too anxious to shift and unable to calm down. The rest of the pack hurried in and kept vigil in the hall, spreading blankets across the floor to sit on as they talked to one another and waited for news from the Relic.
Lexi’s screams were chilling.