Chapter Twenty-Four

Jamie

I listened on while Van and his band did their before-stage rituals. They each had personal superstitions about clothes and bracelets. His guitarist had a thing about his picks, and each song required a different one.

Sometimes, they included me in their warm-up chanting and singing but, tonight, my pregnant butt was sitting on a stool, trying my best not to topple over from the imbalance of weight.

This baby was a big one. The last ultrasound and visit to the new healer here in Las Vegas had him at almost nine pounds, and that was two weeks ago.

My due date was yesterday, and I was more than ready to pop this little cub out.

“Hey, Dave,” I yelled at Van’s stage manager. I could’ve easily asked my mate for another chair, but he was in his groove. No need in interrupting for something silly.

“Yeah, Jamie?”

“I know I’m a pain, but would you mind getting me a different chair? This one is killing my back for some reason.”

“Of course. Give me a few minutes.”

Dave came back with a new chair, a more plush one, and I sat down, ready to watch the show. Van had finished his rituals, but there was one new one. My favorite.

“Are you ready to see your alpha in action?” He came over and kneeled in front of me, kissing the tip of my nose.

“I thought I did this morning,” I said, laughing.

“Not what I meant.” He laughed, moving to kiss my belly. “I’ve got a new song tonight. I can’t wait for you to hear it.”

“Go on, then,” I said, kissing him hard. “Dazzle them.”

He left me with a smile and ran on stage. The roaring crowd cheered and chanted his name.

My mate’s middle name.

Maybe it was the drums or the loud music, the speakers at my back, but a few tear-making pains ripped through my back. I stood up, hoping they would subside but instead, they only got worse.

That’s when I heard Van say something about his new song, dedicated to the love of his life. There were humans in the audience, so omega and alpha might not resonate with them.

I listened to the whole song. The melody made my heart melt.

“Whoa,” I said, bending over a bit as a wet whoosh sent a splash of liquid onto the floor beneath me.

“Jamie?” Dave said, rushing over.

“I think my water broke.”

“Let’s get Van off stage. Someone go tell him.”

“No! Don’t interrupt him,” I yelled out, but someone had already sprinted on stage and was whispering in his ear.

I grabbed Dave’s arm as another pain slammed into my back.

Van turned, wide-eyed, and put the guitar down. “I’m sorry, ladies and gentlemen. But it seems we’re about to have a baby. Must’ve been my song. Full refunds will be given to all of you.”

Van ran up to me and scooped me up in his arms.

The rest was quite a blur. Van drove us to the healer, and I was immediately placed in one of the birthing rooms. I stripped down with my mate’s help and was on my hands and knees, crying out with the pains that continued to get faster and faster between waves.

“That’s it,” the healer said as I bore down on my ass. “There’s the head, Jamie. Only a few more pushes.”

Three more, and I heard the first cries of our babe.

A daughter.

With Van’s eyes and my nose and quite a set of lungs.

“You did it, Jamie. You did it.”

“No, Van, we did it.”