20. Dylan

Dylan

Chapter 20

We were driving into the city, led by a state trooper vehicle, two handcuffed hyena shifters in the back seat. Tristan wasn't comfortable with having me in the same vehicle with them, so he asked a sort-of friend of the pack's to help with transport. Metro was a coyote shifter, and while Shan seemed to have a reluctant truce with him, I really liked him. He was mated to a wolf from Dusk Fall, but he'd originally been from Fairhome, so he had a good understanding of both city and small-town pack life.

It was just the three of us following in the truck; Tristan was driving, me in the passenger seat, and Jude— "Are we there yet?" he asked from the back, sticking his head up between the seats. It was not the first time he'd made the joke.

Tristan rolled his eyes. "No, loser. You're worse than Malachi. Do I need to break out the snacks and play I Spy?"

"Ooh, did you say snacks?" I asked, perking up.

Tristan smirked and reached into the door's pocket, passing me a pack of red licorice. "Sweets for my sweet," he said, offering me an over-the-top wink.

"So cheesy," I groaned, accepting the bag. "You never would've won me over with lines like that."

"Now who's the loser?" Jude sassed, smacking the side of Tristan's head before he retreated into the back, out of reach for retaliation.

"Behave, both of you," I scolded, pointing a finger back and forth between them. "We're carrying precious cargo here." I patted my belly lovingly, and they both looked appropriately chagrined.

I was so ready for this baby to get out. I thought I'd be scared to give birth after helping Brody through labor, but it was strangely… therapeutic. It was almost a comfort to stare all the pain and hard work in the face and say, "Ha! Is that all you got?" It probably hurt way worse than Brody made it look, but I figured it would be worth it to get a baby out of it. Because gods, Wynn was just the cutest little squishy baby ever! He came into this world red-faced and wailing like a banshee, but once he'd calmed down, my heart had just melted. Malachi had already decided his baby brother belonged to him.

I want one, my panther said for the thousandth time.

And you'll have one, very, very soon, okay? My beast was just as eager as I was, and he wasn't even the one who had to carry them. His back didn't hurt, though he had been cooped up for almost two months now.

We all chatted about nothing much for the rest of the drive, and any time there was a lull in the conversation, I would say, "I spy something blue," just to keep them talking. Tristan would roll his eyes. "Is it the sky?" And I would smile coyly and say, "Nooo…" even though it always was.

Maybe I was being silly, but I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts. I was desperate to keep myself distracted. I'd been doing anything I could to keep from thinking about the vision I had the night of the attack. It had felt like a dream, and after the fact, I had no idea I'd been talking to Tristan at all. All I knew was I woke up in a bed that smelled all wrong and my mate was gone to fight off assailants, and no one could tell me when—of even if—he would come home.

I hadn't had a chance to ask Vesta why the vision had come to me or if there would be more. Why now? Why me? I'd never had any special abilities before.

But as the city loomed large ahead, we settled into a contemplative silence of a different nature. There was no way to ignore what was about to happen, and the weight of it pressed down on us all…

As we approached my father's house, the gate opened ahead of us, allowing us entry. Shan had radioed ahead to let him know to expect us. My stomach squirmed and twisted—or maybe it was just the baby rolling over, it was hard to tell. Either way, there was a good chance I might barf. A clammy sweat began to collect on my forehead, and I swallowed repeatedly, ready to lean out the window if I had to.

I grimaced, staring at the mansion looming ahead through the windshield as we followed Metro's car up to the front entrance. After having lived in the camp for the past five months, the comparison was… startling. "Was it always this garish?" I asked.

"Yes," both Tristan and Jude answered at the same time, followed by a battle over who said "Jinx" first. It was the exact silliness I needed to lighten the mood, and my stomach seemed to settle.

Metro was already out of the car, but he left his hat off. This wasn't official state business, after all. He waited for us to join him alongside his vehicle, which took a minute because I needed Tristan's help getting down. Then we headed up the steps to the front door. It opened before we got there, my father appearing in the doorway, looking grim.

"Let's deal with this out here, shall we? I don't want them in my home." His eyes scanned me head to toe, no doubt looking for any sign of injury. "You're not hurt? The baby—"

"Is fine," I said, holding a hand up to stall his anxious rant. "Everyone is alive and well—ouch! Unless you count this little one kicking the hell out of my ribs." I chuckled lightly, but in fact, the kick had actually been quite sharp. If I didn't know any better, I'd say this kid already had claws in there.

My father gave me a too-gentle hug, probably worried he would hurt me in my "delicate" state, then he greeted the others, Metro last. Father seemed wary of having law enforcement on his property, considering the incredibly not-entirely-legal things that went on here.

"Metro Curran," the trooper said, holding out a hand to shake. "Don't worry, I'm just here to drop these two off. Clan disputes tend to fall outside of human jurisdiction, so I'll gladly look the other way as you deal with them however you see fit, but… if my opinion matters at all, I'd go easy on them. They're young, just following their Alpha's orders, and now that he's gone, they have no one left to follow." He glanced back over his shoulder at the two hunched figures in the back of his car, before lowering his voice to a whisper, his dark eyes tender. "One of them cried the whole way here. I think if you wanted, you might find them to be… adoptable."

I almost laughed at the description. It was actually kind of perfect. I'd been surprised when I first laid eyes on the two gangly teenagers. I couldn't imagine what kind of monster would decide they were ready to do battle. I fully approved if my father decided to take them in, give them jobs, maybe find them a new home. He could give them a real chance at a better future. My father met my eyes, and I nodded, smiling—

Right before I gasped and doubled over. A band of fire wrapped around my middle, squeezing hard.

"Dylan!" Tristan was at my side in an instant. "What is it? Is it the baby? Is he coming?"

I managed to keep myself upright, but I leaned heavily into my mate. Before I could say a word in answer, he'd swept me off my feet and was jogging back to the truck. "Does the hospital here treat shifters?" he yelled back over his shoulder at my dad who had gone strangely pale.

He nodded before finding his words. "Y-yes, whoever's at the desk will make sure he gets directed to the right doctor."

"No, no doctor," I mumbled against Tristan's shoulder. He wasn't listening, though.

"Please," my father said thickly. "Take care of my son." He kissed me quickly on the forehead then stepped back. I knew what that must have cost him, relinquishing my core to someone else.

Jude had the back door open, and Tristan lay me down across the back seat. When I tried to sit up, he nudged me right back down. He threw the keys at Jude. "You're driving."

Jude gave a fist pump that probably should've made me nervous, but all I could think about was getting Tristan to listen. He got into the back with me, closing the door, just in time for Jude to gun the engine and peel down the driveway. My stomach lurched, and this time it hadn't nothing to do with the baby and everything to do with Jude's lack of driving skills.

"Do you need to lie down?" my mate asked. "Do you need to push? I can deliver a baby if I have to. I can—"

"Tristan!" I shouted, my voice half panther, and I knew my eyes were shining green and gold. His jaw shut with a clack of his teeth, and that was when I saw the true terror that was threatening to take him over. His eyes were wild, his lip trembling. "I'm okay, it was just a contraction. I'm fine, the baby's fine." I hope. "And I don't want to go to the hospital."

He sputtered and choked on his indignation, building up steam to argue with me. Jude was watching me in the rearview mirror, waiting for instructions. "Home," I told Jude, then repeated it for Tristan's sake. "Home. Brody told me the baby should be born on pack land. He literally wiped soil on the bottom of Wynn's feet. He said it was really important to help form a bond with the pack."

Through all this, Tristan was shaking his head. "No, we don't have time for that. Your health, our baby's health, comes first. Always."

"I know that, but it's just labor. Omegas have been giving birth for millennia, long before hospitals existed. Brody gave birth to Mal all by himself in the middle of the forest!"

I was glad to see that Jude had already turned off toward the highway, long before I convinced Tristan that the baby wasn't going to simply fall out of me. Labor took hours upon hours. Our son likely wouldn't even be born today.

As we drove home, though, the increasing cramping made me nervous. It felt pretty intense compared to what Brody had described at the beginning of labor. Was it supposed to hurt this much? Were the contractions supposed to be so close together? Were my pants supposed to be wet?

I managed to keep in most of the moans, for Tristan's sake, even as the pain snaked around to my back in a band of fire. I knew if we were closer to Fairhome than we were to camp that he would make Jude turn around, and while my mate didn't often use his status as Beta to get his way, he totally would if he thought he was in the right. I caught Jude's eye in the mirror again, and he must've seen something in my face, because the truck's speed began to increase.

By the time we turned onto the last narrow track, there was no way I could hide the pain I was in. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I chanted, clinging to Tristan's hand as we hit every single pothole. Sweat was pouring down my face and neck and chest. I'd peeled off my shirt 20 minutes ago, and the pants shortly after. "Next time my dad wants to buy us a gift, let's have him level out this road." Though I couldn't imagine ever being in this position again.

"You're never driving again, Jude!" Tristan growled, but there was nothing to be done about it. He could no sooner avoid the ruts than I could run a straight line through the woods without hitting a tree.

As the truck pulled into the clearing, I blew out a short-lived breath of relief—but the air was forced from my lungs with a particularly strong contraction. "I need to puuuuuush," I groaned, my voice guttural as the muscles seemed to take over without my consent.

"Out, out, out," Tris ordered. Jude opened the rear door and took my legs, while Tristan hooked me beneath the armpits. I could hear a lot of activity, but to be honest, I was way past caring. This baby was coming, now!

They set me down on the grass right there, cool and damp, and I ripped it up by the handful.

"Shh, I've got you," a familiar raspy voice said.

I forced my eyes open and saw our shaman kneeling down beside me. "Vesta? How did you know to come? The baby's early."

She tutted me, smoothing a soft hand over my forehead. "How do you know the sun is shining?" she asked mysteriously.

"Because… I see it?" I answered, blinking away tears.

"Yes," she said, nodding as if proud of my answer. "Just as I saw your son. He is ready. Are you?"

I nodded vigorously, eager to get this over with. Vesta gestured for Tristan to get into position behind me, propping me up against his chest, then she placed a hand on my stomach and closed her eyes, whispering words in a language I didn't recognize.

If possible, the pain increased. My vision was painted in red with black spots floating across my eyes. I threw my head back and yowled, my panther desperate to do whatever he could to ease my anguish from within. Unfortunately, this was my burden to carry, and mine alone.

Vesta's eyes popped open, and I must've been seeing things, because I swore they were glowing with pearlescent light. "Now, push," Vesta commanded.

Gritting my teeth, I bore down. Tristan recited words in my ear that I assumed were meant to be comforting, but I couldn't hear past the ringing in my head. Was I engulfed in a fiery blaze? I had to be, but nobody was trying to put me out. Why wouldn't they put out the fire?! I howled and screamed, and still I burned.

I was torn straight down the middle as our son came into the world, but then, just like that, with a rush, it was over. The pain was just… gone.

I collapsed back onto Tristan's chest, sobbing and wrung out, and peered blearily down between my legs to where Vesta had caught my baby. "Wha—" I began, panic somehow creeping its way past the exhaustion. There was something wrong. I struggled to sit up.

"What is that?!" Tristan echoed the fear in my head.

"He's fine," Vesta soothed. Then she peeled away a layer of tissue from our son's head, revealing his perfect, tiny face. "Your son was born under a veil," she explained, "otherwise known as a caul. It's a piece of the amniotic sac. It's a very auspicious sign." She nodded, smiling down at him. "Yes, very lucky indeed."

As if he wanted to weigh in on this whole experience, our son opened his mouth in a brief cry, waving his itty-bitty fists around. He looked ready to keep going, but Vesta touched her fingertip to his forehead, and his wail tapered off. I knew logically that babies couldn't see much at birth, but he opened his eyes and blinked up at her, and I swore there was awareness there. The two of them shared a long look, until I noticed a tear drip down from Vesta's cheek.

"Vesta, are you okay?" I'd never once seen this much emotion from her. She was usually stoic, often cheeky, but never sad.

"Y-yes, of course," she managed, passing the baby to me. As I nestled him in against my chest, Vesta quickly brushed the tears away, regaining her composure, though I could still see her thoughts were elsewhere. After a moment, she allowed Jude to help her up and lead her over to the kitchen for a cup of tea and some sweet pastries.

I was grateful the rest of the pack gave us space, though I knew they were eager to come meet the new baby. It was strange that Tristan and I had this moment of privacy right here in the middle of the clearing, but it was so perfect. The sun was shining, a light breeze cooling my bare skin, and Tristan's strength at my back. He peeled off his shirt to wrap around our son while he fed.

"He's so perfect," I whispered, my throat still raw from screaming.

"He is," my alpha agreed, holding his tiny hand up to press a kiss on it. He kissed me next. "You were so incredible. I'm so proud of you."

The whole thing felt so surreal, even now, mere minutes after it happened. "It was so… weird," I said, trying to find the words to explain. "The pain was unlike anything I could've imagined, but also, it was like I wasn't even there. Does that make sense? Like, I left my body or something. It was like he…" I laughed, shaking my head. "You'll think I'm crazy, but I swore I heard him speaking to me."

"Who? Our son?" I nodded, bracing myself as I waited for him to tease me. Instead, he said, "You're lucky. I'll have to wait months until I hear him speak. What did he say?"

"He said he loved us and told me not to be afraid. And… I think he's a panther, like me."

Tristan's arms tightened around us both. "And did he happen to tell you his name?"

I smiled. "No, but I have a feeling Vesta might know it. She knows more than she's letting on."

"Agreed. Perhaps we should ask."

When our son was done feeding and had drifted off to sleep, I passed him off to Tristan for a little bonding time, then I allowed my panther to take his fur. It had been months since I'd shifted, and stretching our limbs felt almost painful, tingly like our feet had gone numb and were just now waking up. The shift allowed my healing to kick in, smoothing over the worst of the remaining soreness.

Tristan knelt down and allowed my beast to nuzzle the baby, gifting him with a lick across the back of his hand. Just a few minutes later, though, I was surprised when my panther handed back my skin.

Not in the mood to run? I asked him.

Vesta, he answered simply. Turned out he wanted some answers too.

My pants were soaked, my shirt torn, so I took a brief moment to go home for a change of clothes. Nobody minded nudity, but I doubted I would ever be totally used to it. Then we joined Vesta at the outdoor table.

She sighed like she knew what was coming and had been waiting for us. "Ask your questions," she said. She sounded as tired as I felt, her knotted hands wrapped around her mug, eyes downcast.

I didn't know where to begin. "Did I truly hear his voice inside my head?" I asked.

She smiled sadly and shrugged. "Perhaps. Your son is a very special boy. Who is to say what he is capable of."

Tristan stiffened beside me and leaned in. "Special how?"

Vesta seemed wary of answering, but she did, nonetheless. "I have lived a long life, far more years than I deserved. At last, my time on this earth is coming to a close. Our forest has never been without a shaman. For as long as wolves have roamed this land, they have had a spiritual guide. Your son…" She paused and brushed her hand gently over the top of his head. "He will be the next guide once I am gone."

I didn't know how I felt about this. "B-but he's just a baby. How can he be anything but that?" I could hear the note of panic in my voice.

Vesta took my hand and squeezed it. "It will not be for many years. He will be a child like any other. He will play and laugh and get into trouble." She chuckled, shaking her head. "He will be happy. Pax… will be happy."

I looked up into her blind gaze that saw so much. "Pax?"

"Yes, it is his name. It means peaceful, a calm center for the times of turmoil ahead." She pushed up from the table with difficulty. "I will train him when it is time. For now, though, show him love and kindness, show him strength and bravery." She gave Pax one final kiss on his brow, and I swore his pursed lips twitched with a smile.

As Vesta began to walk away, heading for the path that would lead her home, another question popped into my head. I called after her, "Was that why I had the vision about the hyenas? It wasn't truly my vision at all, was it? It belonged to Pax."

She looked back over her shoulder and smiled but said nothing more. I already knew the answer.