Chapter 19

Throughout the course of his pregnancy, Thomas had tried to keep his routine as normal as possible. He felt strongly about contributing to the pride, but that was 1000% pressure he put on himself. No one in the pack expected him to keep going full speed ahead while growing an entire being.

And it wasn't just work he was not wanting to slow down on. It was also household things. He'd rarely let me help with anything around our place—not the little things, not the big things. Even now that my last case had closed and I was officially on paternity leave, he didn't want me taking any task he saw as "his." He was stubborn, and it was both frustrating and one of the reasons I was so madly in love with him.

He continued to run his counseling sessions. He was having fewer of them these days, but he was still working. Not a single complaint ever passed his lips about his job or about the discomfort that came as a lovely side effect of being pregnant.

Unlike him, I was nervous. Nervous about everything. What if he wasn't getting enough sleep? What if he went into labor early? What if our baby didn't fit into the clothes we bought? On and on I worried about things that I couldn't change. And I wasn't a little anxious. No, I was pacing in our backyard, acting more like my beastly side than my human one.

His pregnancy had been smooth, and for that, I was grateful. But selfishly, I wanted it to be over because I wanted to hold our child. Not over before our baby was ready. More that I wanted them to be ready now, to be able to see their adorable face.

I couldn't help but wonder if they were going to look like me or more like Thomas. Would he have his omega daddy's smile and his patience? Or would he be more like me? I knew nothing about who they would be, but still, I loved them so much I could burst.

Sure, I loved seeing my mate pregnant. He was incredibly sexy, whether he believed it or not. But I was ready for the next step… the step into fatherhood.

"Beckett!" Mortimer called from across the yard. "Get over here if you want to be useful."

Someone needed to give that man a phone. He refused to use one, but we could keep trying. He preferred the shouting-off-his-porch method of attracting attention or on occasion having his mate do it for him. I asked him once if maybe he wanted a landline, thinking that it was the technology he wasn't a fan of. He laughed before telling me he didn't want to be "that connected" to everyone.

One night I had joked with Morgan about getting Mortimer a megaphone, and the forerunner quickly shot that idea down, stating that if we did, he'd use it. He probably would too and possibly one of the noises they usually came with. I could see it now, Mortimer pressing the button that sounded like a cheering crowd when one of the pride members had a baby.

I had nothing more pressing to do, so I meandered toward the clinic, expecting him to need me to move something or possibly do a small repair. I was so wrong. When I went inside, Mortimer pulled me into one of the exam rooms.

"Grab that bottle there and begin cleaning," he said. He had a broom in his hand.

"All right," I replied. I didn't question the reason. I would take any job to make time go by so I could be useful and not sit there worrying about my mate and when he would give birth.

For the next hour, I wiped down every surface, put fresh linens on the bed, and stocked whatever Mortimer told me to in the room. I swept, mopped the floor, and had the place looking good as new. The room was spotless. Not that it had been dirty. Had it been a house I'd have said it didn't even need more than a sweep, but this was the healer's exam room and it needed to remain extra clean.

"Do you have to do this often?" I asked, once it seemed that Mortimer was finished bossing me around.

"Well, the rooms have to be cleaned after every patient, but I figured you and your mate would appreciate an extra special cleaning for the room where you'll meet your child. Your mate should be giving birth very soon."

"What?" I said.

I'd heard that Mortimer had a habit of doing this—knowing when a baby was going to arrive. He was supposedly scary accurate, which meant that if he was saying "very soon," it wasn't just a figure of speech. I was about to meet our baby.

"Mortimer!" Thomas's voices echoed through the building.

How could Mortimer be so freaky accurate? That was a question for another day.

I ran out of the room and to Thomas's side. He was breathing heavily, like he had just sprinted a mile instead of pacing himself. His forehead was beaded with sweat, and he looked as if the whole sprinting thing might've been a possibility. Had he not been very pregnant, I'd have easily drawn a similar conclusion. But he was pregnant—about-to-give-birth pregnant.

"There you are. There you both are," Thomas said. "I went to the house, but you weren't there, so I just came straight here."

"Is everything all right?" I asked, Mortimer's words ringing through my head.

"Contractions, water gone," Thomas replied, his breath nearly a pant.

"You need water? You're thirsty?" I asked, trying to make sense of his words.

"No, my water broke," he corrected.

Water breaking was something I'd read about in one of the pamphlets Mortimer had given us the first day. It was less about the biology of it and more of how to know if yours had. I nearly asked him if he was sure when Mortimer came up behind me.

He cuffed me on the back of the head. "Snap out of it, alpha dad. We've got work to do. Bring him into our freshly cleaned room."

This was it. It was go time. Mortimer had told me ahead of time, then Thomas told me, but still it hadn't fully clicked until he bopped me on the head. I needed to get with the program. My mate and our baby were counting on me.

"The baby's coming?" I asked, feeling the tension rising and needing to be sure I hadn't connected the wrong dots. It had been known to happen far more often than I'd have liked to admit.

"Yes," Thomas replied, gripping my hand tightly and squeezing. "They're coming now. We get to meet our baby soon, and I would prefer to do it not in the waiting area."

"Oh!" This was what I was waiting for. Yet I couldn't make my legs move.

Mortimer gave me another shove, and I snapped to work. "Baby. Now. Exam room."

"Why do I feel like I have to push?" Thomas asked. We hadn't even gotten into the room yet and he was talking about pushing. This I knew about. It was the end of the labor—basically how the baby got out.

Mortimer checked his watch. "Oh dear, it is later than I thought. Get him into the room. Get his pants off!"

Mortimer didn't have to tell me twice. I swept Thomas into my arms and carried him into the room that I had just cleaned. I placed him on the bed gently and pulled off his pants. Mortimer came, with Jonas following behind him.

Everything was happening so quickly.

"We will be meeting the newest member of the Asilo pride today, everyone," Mortimer said.

He was so nonchalant about it, as if this were an everyday occurrence. And the pride had been growing, that much was true, but we were a far cry from even a baby a month. How could he be so… calm?

"Finally." Thomas's head fell back onto the pillow. "I'm so ready to be not pregnant."

"You are?" I replied. "You've been doing so well. I thought you loved being pregnant."

"I do. It's been wonderful, but—" Thomas grunted as he gritted his teeth. "I'm over it. I'm ready to be done, but I didn't want to complain."

We'd have to chat about communication and how letting me know things and complaining were not the same at all. But right now, he needed my support, nothing more.

I kissed his temple. "You've done so well, mate. I love you so much."

In response, he let out a scream, gripping my forearm. His fingernails dug into my skin, definitely drawing blood. His pain was palpable, and I fucking hated it. If I could take all of his pain from him, I'd do so in an instant. But I couldn't, so being his pincushion was going to have to do.

"Oh goodness, the baby's coming," Mortimer said, settling between Thomas's spread legs. "I can't believe how off I was."

It seemed pretty spot-on to me.

"Another big push… right… now."

Thomas yelled out in pain. I couldn't believe how fast this was all happening.

In the past few months I had spoken with each of the mated pairs in the pride about their experience with childbirth. I thought I was ready. I thought I had this down pat. I was wrong. So very, very wrong.

It was going entirely too fast, and I hated to see my mate in so much pain.

His face was beet-red, his knees pulled close to his chest, and he bore down on the contractions. Mortimer praised him, encouraging him to keep pushing, and I kept by his side, letting him nearly break my arm, and he held on tightly.

The next thing I knew, the screaming stopped, and a little baby cry filled the space. It was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.

"It's a boy!" Mortimer announced. "A beautiful baby boy."

"We have a boy," Thomas said, joy lighting up his eyes. He wiped away the sweat and blinked back tears. "We have a son."

"You do." Mortimer handed our child to me, and Jonas gave me a blanket to place over him.

"He's gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous," I said, showing him to Thomas. Sweat beaded on his brow, but his smile was bright and broad. He was as happy in this moment as I was, and that level of happiness was one I hadn't known existed.

"Our little boy," I said. He was the most perfect thing I'd ever seen. The amount of love I already felt for this tiny cub nearly brought me to my knees. Tears came to my eyes, but I blinked them away. I didn't want my vision blurred. I needed to burn this memory in so I could relive it time and again.

"Benjamin." Thomas looked down at our sweet baby boy and then up to me. "If that's okay with you."

"It's perfect." We'd discussed it before, but I wasn't going to push. I never realized how many emotions came with naming a child, especially in this case. Benjamin was my brother and my mate's friend. This name was more than a name. "I kissed his lips and placed our child on his chest. "I love you, mate."

"I love you too." He looked down at our son who was now rooting for his first meal. "And I love you, Benjamin. I can't wait to tell you all about the amazing man you were named after."

Benjamin latched on, and after Mortimer checked to make sure all was well on that front. He left the room a few minutes later to give us some privacy in these first precious moments of the three of us as a family. We lay there together, holding our newborn son. We were ready for whatever our future had in store for us. As long as we were together, we would be fine.