21. Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

Lachlan

I heard Quinn enter my house, the front door slamming behind him, and I had to smile as I fussed with the silverware on the table I'd set. In the last six weeks I'd grown accustomed to Quinn entering, and slamming the door of my house behind him. Whenever I brought up the slamming of the door, he'd just roll his eyes at me. "That door weighs like a thousand pounds. I have to put all my strength into it to get the damn thing to close."

I looked over the table one last time, before rushing out of the dining room. Quinn was just hanging up his heavy coat. His moods were still all over the place, a fact that made him huff and puff with annoyance. Finn had assured him that in the next month his hormones should level out. All the while shaking his head where Quinn couldn't see him, and mouthing to me, "They won't. Sorry."

Quinn had cut back on his hours at the bakery, or at least he was making an effort to. The two part-time holiday help I'd hired for him had stayed on, and were full-time now.

After leaving Finn's office Christmas morning, we'd finally made it to Quinn's parents house. Like my mom, Quinn's mom Maeve had smelled the pregnancy as soon as she'd wrapped him in her warm arms. She'd pulled back from him, stared him in the eyes with her matching green ones, a huge smile on her face. He'd huffed, though his cheeks had turned the prettiest shade of pink, and he'd ducked his head like a child. "Yes, I'm pregnant. Just found out. Consider this the gift we had to pick up this morning."

She'd clapped her hands in glee, then wrapped me in a big hug, even though she didn't know me from Adam. She was a miniature version of Quinn, and I adored her immediately. I'd hate to admit it, but I'd been nervous about meeting Quinn's parents for the first time, and telling them we were pregnant all at once. It wasn't ideal. Maeve had moved her gaze from me to her son, back to me, and smiled slyly. "Fated mates. How romantic, you have to tell me all about how you met."

Later, after being introduced to his dad, Allan, a tall, thin wolf shifter with a quiet demeanor, and a glow for his wife every time he looked at her, we exchanged gifts. We hadn't discussed if we were buying each other gifts, but I'd come with a gift for my mate anyway. He'd pulled out a large box for me, from beneath his parents' tree, and laid it across my lap. "I had no clue what to get you, but when I saw it, I thought of you."

Curious, I'd ripped into the wrapping paper with childish glee. Inside the box lay the softest sweater I'd ever touched, the exact shade of blue as my eyes. I'd pulled it on over my shirt, and Quinn's eyes had heated. Gigi had fanned herself, her eyes sparkling and giving me a saucy wink. "Oh my, if I was thirty years younger, I'd give my grandson a run for his money, Hot Stuff."

I'd winked at her. "If you were thirty years younger, Gigi, I'd let you chase me." I'd gone over to my coat and pulled out a white envelope, handing it to Quinn. "Before you get all huffy, and sass me, just hear me out. You need the help. I spoke with the temps I hired for you, and they love working for you. They both want to stay on full-time. "

He'd opened the envelope with my present inside and read it over.

"I can't take this," he'd finally said, trying to hand it back to me.

I held up a hand, "Just listen, before you get all riled up. I want to keep paying their wages just until your birthday. When you get your trust, you take over. They aren't bakers, but Josh said having them there meant he could help you with the baking and decorating full time. Let me do this for you. I'm not trying to take over, and I want you to keep doing what you are so good at. But I don't want you killing yourself either. It's a completely selfish gift. It means you might have more time to spend with me."

The room had grown silent, everyone trying to act like they weren't watching us like hawks, and couldn't hear every word we were saying. Quinn rubbed at his chin, his cheek. He gave me a calculating look. "You are selling this hard."

I nodded. "I am."

"Okay." I'd learned Quinn's quietly spoken ‘okay' was the answer he gave when he decided to give in to me, or anyone else. Or when he knew he was being stubborn just to be stubborn, and had changed his mind. There were no further questions from him, no further argument, just one word, quietly spoken.

We'd spent all of January and the beginning of February getting to know each other. We'd already had two doctor appointments for the pups.

The first official appointment had been eye opening and maddening. I was sure there wasn't enough bleach in the world, to burn the memory of that appointment out of my brain. I still didn't want to think about where my brother's fingers had been inside my mate. I'd tried my best to keep myself, and my wolf under control, during that appointment. I had thought I'd been doing a bang-up job of it, until Finn had growled, "Lachlan, I swear, I will toss you out of this room if you growl at me one more time. "

Quinn had glanced up at my face then, and squeezed my hand, hard. "Put your fangs away and act right."

We'd been going back and forth between each of our houses, staying a night or two at his place, and then at mine. Tonight was Valentine's Day, and I planned to ask Quinn to move in with me.

I wanted him to help me make my house a real home. Things had settled down at the bakery, with the holidays over, until last week. I'd never imagined so many people would want custom cookies and cupcakes for Valentine's, but Quinn had told me it was a big day for them. He had five different orders for massive chocolate chip toffee cookies with, "Will you marry me?" written in icing across them.

I'd stared at him, disappointed I'd never thought of doing that, and he'd tossed out, "Who knew? I'd probably laugh if anyone ever proposed to me like that." He'd given me a hard stare. "Don't even think about it."

"I would never, Sass Ass," I'd assured him, totally lying, but he didn't need to know that. Ever.

Quinn had crawled out of my bed this morning at two a.m., and it was now after eight at night. They'd stayed open late for all the late pickups that customers had asked for. I was planning to get him off his feet as soon as possible.

I'd made a romantic dinner for us with the help of my chef, Therese, who was more than happy to give me cooking lessons whenever my schedule allowed. She only worked for me three days a week. I still wasn't great at it, but I was improving all the time. I'd discovered cooking was something I enjoyed doing.

Therese had even left me some brochures for culinary classes at the local college. I'd thought that was rather funny. After getting an outrageously expensive education, at one of the most prestigious universities in the country, I was thinking of enrolling in community college at almost forty years old.

My mom had been beside herself, when I'd mentioned to her that I wanted to learn how to cook for my mate. She'd clapped her hands, telling me, "I always wanted to teach you boys to cook, but your dad said no."

She lowered her voice, trying to imitate my dad's booming baritone. "Alphas don't cook. Hog wash! Then you boys just never seemed interested when I would try. Except Finn. He was always in my kitchen."

"Wait, what?" Finn cooked? Not for the first time, I wondered what other secrets I didn't know about my brothers.

"He's quite good," my mom shared proudly. "His chicken parm is perfection. You should have him make it for you sometime. Well, when Quinn can stomach garlic again. He's shit at baking, though."

I pecked Quinn's lips in a quick kiss, my hands resting on his shoulders feeling the tightly bunched muscles beneath his shirt. He closed his eyes, moaning as I rubbed at a knot, his whole-body deflating in bliss.

"Tired?" I asked. He rested his head beneath my chin, and let me work at the muscles, his breath hissing when I hit a particularly sore spot.

"Longest. Day. Ever." He moved out of my grasp. "I'm dying of thirst, too. I need water."

He moved down the hallway and into my kitchen, which he seemed to have a love affair with. He poured a cold glass of water, then drained it in one gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Quinn loved this kitchen. Stainless steel appliances, a double oven, granite countertops, and a huge island with a butcher block. There was every conceivable kitchen gadget across the various workspaces, even if I didn't have a clue what most of them did.

I watched as he ran his hands over every surface he could touch. It wasn't the first time I'd seen him do this, and I doubted it would be the last. His fingers trailed over the countertop, touching it like he was touching a lover.

My deep voice broke into his awe of the kitchen. "Do you want me to leave you and my kitchen alone? You seem like you're about to have a moment."

He grinned at me, trailing a hand over the island. "I can't help it if this kitchen is a chef's wet dream."

My dark brows arched. "So, you are about to have a moment then? Should I leave you two alone?"

"This island is fucking beautiful." He sprawled across it, bending at his waist and spreading his arms across it, closing his eyes.

I coughed, or growled, or moaned, I wasn't sure, but I made a strangled, choking sound. He opened one eye to glare at me for interrupting his moment.

"Don't do that," I begged.

"Why?" he asked innocently, looking at me over his shoulder. Wiggling his plump ass at me, humping the edge of the island.

"Because there is food waiting for us in the dining room," I told him. "And I know you probably forgot to eat enough today."

He pursed his lips at me, that full bottom lip of his sticking out just a little. "Maybe I want something else to eat right now."

His eyes were smoldering, the green so bright it burned into me, and I couldn't take it. I forgot everything I had planned for this night. The expensive dinner I'd prepared. The cheesy, cliché, Valentine's candy, the ridiculously expensive roses. All I can think about is sliding my cock into his hot, wet hole, and slamming him into my pristine kitchen counter. The counter he was currently grinding his hard cock against, putting on a show while I watched .

A sound rumbled from my throat, a groan, a moan, a growl. I plastered myself against his back, pushing him further into the cool granite. My teeth grazed down his neck, back up and nipped at the lobe of his ear. Hard enough to sting.

He moaned, eyes closing, pushing his perfect ass against the rigid length of my dick. "I'm fucking horny, Lach. All day I have been. It's like some switch got flipped in me. No more tears today, all I can think about is your thick cock filling me up and your knot."

My hands wrestled with the snap of his jeans in a frenzy, the sound of the zipper sliding down loud in the room, our breath coming harshly. I shoved his jeans down, taking his briefs with them. He wrestled one foot clear of them. It was enough for him to spread his legs, for me to slot into him with a perfect fit.

I pressed my hand to the middle of his back, and bent him forward. Not caring if his face was smashed against the countertop. I slid to my knees, my face mashed up to his ass, and rested my nose against his crease. Breathing him in, drinking in his scent, my mouth watering. I recognized his scent, the sweet smell of cookies, the hint of citrus, the strong smell of cinnamon.

But I smelled more than that, I smelled him , the undeniable scent of Quinn . My mate.

I kneaded the mounds of his ass, feeling his muscles flex beneath my hands. I pulled his cheeks apart, exposing his perfect, pink hole to my gaze. I leaned forward until my nose was right against that hole, breathing him in as deep as I could.

"Fuck, Lach!" Quinn's voice was a half shout, half moan of pure need.

I moved my nose back, my tongue coming out to lap him from his balls to the top of his crack.

"Oh Goddess!" Quinn shouted, his hands scrambling against the slick material of the counter, legs flailing .

"Nope, just me," I growled. "You'd better hold on, baby, I'm gonna eat you for dinner."

It was a cheesy line, but I meant every word of it. Food was forgotten. Our dinner I'd sweated over could grow cold and congealed. I didn't care. I was happy eating Quinn's ass.

I licked him then, my tongue making short laps around his rim, and Quinn bucked, grabbing on to the counter. Spreading his legs wider, bending at his waist. Shoving his puckered rosebud right against my tongue.

I licked him until he was a moaning, babbling mess. My tongue delving deep into his tight, wet hole. I lapped at him, sucking and slurping and tongue fucking him. Opening him up for me, until his ring of muscles was loose and pliant beneath my ministrations. He was dripping wet, his slick running out of his ass and trickling down the backs of his thighs. My face was covered in his fluids, and I licked my lips, wanting to enjoy every drop of him.

"Lachlan, please, please," he pleaded, his face turned to the side towards me. He looked disheveled. His russet curls were wild, his alabaster skin glowing with a sheen of sweat, his cheeks flushed rosy, as if he was in the throes of a fever.

I nipped at one round cheek, just enough to leave a little mark. I watched, fascinated, as his skin turned the barest shade of pink where I'd bitten him, and it did something inside of me. Seeing that mark on him, my mark, and I wanted more of it.

Without thought, I raised my hand and brought it smacking down on his ass cheek. Quinn jerked, his body tensing, before he moaned loudly. I watched my handprint bloom on his ass cheek, feeling my cock grow harder as my mark appeared on him .

I rubbed my hand over the print, feeling the heat of it blooming on his skin. Quinn laid lax against the counter, his only movement little jerks of his hips.

"More," he whispered, pushing his ass a smidgeon closer to my hand.

My head flew up, eyes scanning his face. His eyes were still closed, and he looked debauched and absolutely blissful. He cracked an eye open, and I could barely see the green in them, his pupils were so dilated. "Do it again, Lachlan," he ordered sharply. "Now."

I did. Again and again, my hand cracking down on his ass cheeks, until the plump mounds were bright red and burning against my hand. Quinn was a moaning, gyrating mess against the island counter.

I'd never raised a hand to anyone in any of my relationships. Had never even thought about it. Okay, I had thought about it, but I'd never done it. But something had compelled me to smack Quinn's ass, and when he'd urged me for more, I'd lost myself in it.

"Did I hurt you?" I whispered in his ear, brushing at his curls.

"Mmmmm." His voice was breathy, dreamy and wistful. "So good. So fucking good. Flying."

"Good." I rubbed my still clothed, rock hard cock against his ass, and the heat of my handprints burned me through the fabric.

"Want more. Again," he mumbled. "So good." He was repeating himself, and making little sense.

"I'm gonna spank your ass all the time," I warned him, pushing my slacks and boxer briefs off and kicking them away from my body. "That sassy mouth of yours is going to have my hand on your ass every day." I stroked my cock, pre-come dripping all over my pristine kitchen floor, and I rubbed it around the sensitive head.

He pushed the ass in question towards me again, and my dick followed like it was a beacon, the tip rubbing at his dripping wetness. I flexed my hips and the thick, mushroom head breached him, sliding right past his first ring of tight muscles, with no resistance.

"Yes," he hissed, moving back against me and causing me to slide in another inch. I wanted to slam into him, but a part of me held back, knowing my pups were nestled safely inside of him. That thought amped up my desire tenfold, setting off something purely primal inside me. Damn, I had a pregnancy kink where my mate was concerned.

"Gonna be mouthy all the fucking time with you," he warned.

I slammed into him, not able to help myself. Not with that mouth of his, and buried myself to the hilt, my balls grinding up against his ass. The force of it rocked Quinn forward into the edge of the counter, and a small "oomph" escaped him. I held myself still, breathing hard. The island was fucking hard, and I didn't want to hurt him or the pups. But this was not going to be a gentle bout of love making.

Reaching blindly behind me, I located a dish towel hanging on the handle of the oven. It wouldn't be much protection, but it was better than nothing. Quinn was rubbing against me the entire time, writhing like the cat he is, cussing at me to fucking fuck me dammit , howling like he was in distress.

I shoved the towel between him and the counter's edge, and smacked his ass again. Slick gushed around my cock, so I popped his ass once more. Sure enough, more slick gushed out of him. Words tumbled from his lips, nonsense, gibberish, that made no sense, but I didn't care.

My hands strayed to the roundness of his belly. The skin was tight, and he wasn't that big yet, but he was starting to show. At least when he's naked. He's so damn thin still, but his tight stomach had the slightest roundness to it. I traced down that hard mound, from just beneath his belly button to just above his straining cock. I loved touching him, touching his stomach, and I couldn't help running my hands over every inch of him I could reach .

I pulled out and flipped him around before he could get a thought to argue in his pretty head. I hoisted him up and plopped him on top of the counter. I spread his legs wide with my hands, knees pressed to his chest, and slid into him before he could take a breath to argue the change in position. I wouldn't risk hurting him, or our pups, by continuing to pound him into the granite countertop.

Quinn laid back against the coolness of the granite, arms spread as wide as his legs, and I flexed my hips. He moaned, and I shifted my hips a little, changing my angle and he howled. I smiled to myself, knowing I'd hit his sweet spot.

I pounded into him, over and over, slamming into him, almost brutally. The force of my thrusts moved him forward, and I pulled him back with a strong arm. After the third time, I growled in frustration and placed both his legs on my shoulders. I gripped his ass with my hands, holding him in place while I pounded into him, relentless. He shouted senseless words of ‘more', ‘harder', ‘fuck, yes, there, right there!'.

Two more strokes and I felt the tingling begin at the base of my spine, my balls drawing up. My knot swelled and caught on his rim. Another push and my knot was fully locked in Quinn. I felt Quinn's body tense and tighten around me, his hold like a vise on my straining cock. His whole body convulsed, and he almost seemed to stop breathing for a minute, his mouth open in a wordless cry.

His ass gushed copious amounts of slick, and my dick erupted like a volcano inside him. My orgasm was so intense it left me dizzy, my legs feeling like they were made out of jelly. I shot loads of scalding cum into him, both of us shaking with the aftershocks.

Quinn was a boneless heap beneath me, our breathing loud and ragged in the room, as we both tried to remember our names. Our breathing finally quieted and evened out, and I wondered if Quinn had passed out .

I let him be for a minute, while I slowly lowered his legs down and wrapped them around my hips, as we waited for my knot to go down. Quinn moaned quietly, stretching his back as far as he could with us still held locked together.

I nuzzled at his neck, that spot, where I hoped to one day claim him as mine. "You okay?"

A smile ghosted across his face, his eyes still closed. "So good."

"So, spanking?"

He chuckled, which did nothing to help diminish my knot, as his ass vibrated around me in a delicious way.

"It was so good. I've never had that happen. Spanking, I mean. I've never been spanked. You are very good at it."

I felt my face heat in a blush, and I snuggled my head into the crook of his shoulder, to hide my burning face from him. "I've never done that before either," I confessed.

He cracked an eye open at me. "Never?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

He looked at me for what felt like a very long time, but in reality was only a few seconds. "Did you like it?"

I swallowed hard, and admitted, "I did. A lot. Does that make me a freak?"

Quinn snorted, and that did all kinds of things to my dick and knot. "Then I'm a freak too. But, no, I don't subscribe to that rhetoric. If it feels good, who says it's wrong? All kinds of kinks out there. Don't know what you like, or don't like, until you try them."

My knot had finally shrunk enough for me to slip from his body in a gush of fluids. While my knees wobbled a little, Quinn's whole body seemed to have become putty. I caught him as he started to slide to the floor, scooping him up in my arms, bridal style. He let me, and just sighed a little, resting his head against my shoulder. I looked down at him and my chest swelled with the force of the love I felt for this man. My mate.

This man made me laugh, he made me feel, he made me trust in him, and myself. Trust to explore things I'd never felt comfortable admitting to wanting before. To trust to be me , the real me, not the me I thought I had to be. For my family, for my last name, for my business.

I stared down at him, long and lean, pliant, blissed out, and sated. He was beautiful, this prickly, sassy mouthed, independent omega, and he was all mine.

He was nothing I ever thought I'd want, and everything I wanted and needed, like I needed air to breathe.

He nuzzled his cheek against me, murmuring something unintelligible. I was halfway up the stairs with him when his stomach rumbled. Loudly. He seemed to doze through it, but I needed to feed him. He'd had a long busy day, standing on his feet for most of it, and I doubted he'd stopped to eat more than the bare few snacks to keep him going. Though he was getting better about remembering to eat for the twins, even if he had yet to put on much weight.

I deposited him gently on my king-sized bed, and pulled the comforter around him. He snuggled into the pillow, sighing softly. I didn't bother grabbing a robe, just made my way back downstairs, naked. I never used to wander around my house naked before, but I found it freeing.

My sex life had been fine before meeting Quinn, if a bit boring. None of my previous partners, either male or female, had been into experimenting. I frowned at myself as I made a plate of food from our forgotten dinner, left to grow cold in the dining room.

Was it that my previous partners hadn't wanted to experiment, or was it that I hadn't wanted to experiment? Had been afraid to experiment? I once brought it up to Nate, that I'd be into him topping me, and he'd laughed at me, telling me alphas didn't bottom. I had never ever brought any of my secret desires into any conversation I'd had with a partner after that. I was so afraid of being seen as a freak or pervert, that I never broached the topic. Just had nice, pleasant boring sex.

I pushed my inner monologue aside, as I cut up perfect pieces of medium rare steak, shrimp scampi and plain sweet potato. Because Quinn had been craving sweet potatoes, even if he refused to admit that he was having cravings. He'd ordered them anytime we went out to eat once his morning sickness vanished.

He was lucky in that regard. After the initial bad weekend that was the flu, and his Christmas Eve vomiting, he'd not been plagued by much morning sickness. He still avoided anything with garlic though, just in case. He was perpetually exhausted though, and I worried about that. Along with the hours he put in at the bakery, and being on his feet for long stretches at a time. His feet already seemed to be swelling, and I spent countless minutes rubbing them each day.

I worried, but I tried to voice my concerns so that I didn't come across as a demanding alpha, who was telling him what to do. I just tried to find ways to get him to work fewer hours, put his feet up, eat and get plenty of rest.

I placed the warmed plate on the nightstand, and sat next to Quinn's hip on the bed. I brushed a hand through his wild curls, so soft to my touch. One of my favorite things to do was play with his hair. He turned his face into my hand, nuzzling me in his sleep.

"Wake up, baby," I whispered in his ear.

He moved, stretching a little. "Hmmm?"

"Wake up. I brought food, and you need to eat," I told him, watching as he blinked his green eyes open .

"Tired," he mumbled, his eyes sliding shut as he sank deeper into the blankets.

"Nope." I nudged his shoulder. "Your stomach was growling, you need to eat. I know you were super busy today, and you forgot to eat like you should have. Gotta feed the pups."

He sat up slowly, pushing himself until his back was resting against the headboard, the blanket pooling at his waist. I grabbed a pillow, draped it over his lap, and rested the warm plate on it. I'd brought two forks, and took a bite at the same time he did. He eyed me. "Did you make this?"

I gave him a suspicious look. "Why?"

"It's good." He took a bite of the sweet potato, eyes closing in silent bliss. Yeah, he's not having any cravings. He ate the whole potato before moving on to more steak, and the scampi.

"Therese helped," I confessed. "Probably more like I helped her, but whatever."

He finished most of the plate on his own, and I was pleased by that. A warm buzz filled me, knowing he'd enjoyed the meal I'd prepared for him, and that he and our pups were full and well taken care of. I'd already started setting up my home office, so I could spend more time working remotely. The twins were due at the end of June, and I was planning to work mostly remotely by the time they arrived.

I sat the empty plate and silverware on the nightstand. I'd take care of them in the morning. Right then I had a gift for my Valentine. My very sleepy, rumpled Valentine, who was dozing while still sitting up. I kissed the tip of his nose, and his eyelids fluttered but didn't open. "I'll be right back."

Since I was headed downstairs anyway, I grabbed the dirty dishes and deposited them into the half full dishwasher. I grabbed up the tiny square box that I'd hidden in my desk drawer, waiting for this day to get here .

"Hey." I nibbled at Quinn's lips when I made it back upstairs. He hadn't moved a muscle and was well and truly asleep. He mumbled grumpily. I'd learned the hard way that Quinn did not wake up a happy person. Ever. Not even from a nap. He needed a minute, or an hour, before you could speak to him.

Having to give up coffee has been hell for him, and everyone around him.

"Quinn." I shook his shoulder lightly. He swatted at me blindly, whining at me.

I grinned and tried once more. "Wake up."

He blinked his eyes at me, sleepily and not completely focused. "Is the house on fire?"

"Of course not." I rolled my eyes.

"Do you have coffee?"

"You can't have coffee," I reminded him.

"Then I can't imagine why you think it's a good idea to be poking at me."

"Move in with me."

His eyes flew open, and I grinned. I figured that would wake him up.

"What?" he sputtered.

"You heard me." I placed the box on his lap, and watched as he opened it, revealing a shiny house key. "I'm tired of the back and forth. I love your house, but I want this to be our forever home. Change what you want, I don't care, just make it into a home. Our home."

As much as I adored Quinn's little house, it made more sense to move into mine. It was ten times bigger, and had more acreage for the pups to grow. I wasn't above using the kitchen to sweeten the deal.

"This couldn't have waited until morning?" he asked dryly.

I gave him a half shrug. "It's Valentine's Day. I'm trying to make a big romantic gesture here. "

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Next time, wait until I'm awake for your romantic gestures." He slid down in the bed, patting the spot next to him. "Come to bed."

I stared at him, snuggled down, eyes closed against the light of the room. "That's it? Nothing else to say?"

He didn't bother to open his eyes. "Of course I'll move in with you, you big dork."

I snorted, turning out the light as I slid in next to him, moving my arms as he rolled into me, and surrounded me with his long limbs, little belly pressed into mine. I nuzzled my chin into his curls. "Your warmth is overwhelming."

"I'm so in love with your kitchen, how could I say no?" I could feel his smile against my skin.

"I'm sure you and my kitchen will be very happy, Sass Ass."

"Exceedingly so." I drifted off to sleep, my omega in my arms, happier than I ever thought possible.

Hours later, Quinn's rustling around woke me from a sound sleep. He was moving across the bed, away from me, muttering to himself.

"What's wrong?" I asked, voice husky with sleep.

"I think I peed the bed." He sounded annoyed with himself, and a little embarrassed. "I must have been sleeping hard and didn't wake up. They need to put all these things in the what to expect when you're expecting books. If I'm going to pee myself, I'd like to be warned at the very least."

I reached an arm out and flipped on the light, sliding out of bed. "I'll get some clean sheets."

He huffed. "Grab a diaper while you're at it."

I chuckled and scratched at my chest, stopping dead in my tracks at Quinn's harsh inhalation of air. There was a hint of fear in it, and I could smell it rolling off him. Something was wrong .

His face was ashen, and he was staring at the bed in shock. Eyes wide, frozen to the spot he was standing on beside the bed. My eyes followed his, and I sucked in a sharp breath. The white sheets were covered in bright red blood. What looked like a lot of it, to my untrained eyes.

"Stay calm," I told him in the lowest, quietest voice I could manage. "It's okay."

He looked down at himself, and I saw the blood streaked down his thighs. He started shaking, his hands wobbling, and I caught him before he could fall.

"Look at me," I demanded. He did, though I had to urge him a second time, before he complied. "We are going to the hospital, and we are going to stay calm."

I felt a massive freak out building just under the surface of my skin, but I ignored it. My omega did not need me losing it, when I could feel his emotions washing over me in fearful waves. He was well on his way to freaking out enough for both of us.