Chapter Twenty-Nine

Baxter

It's mid-morning when I finally decide to have breakfast. I wanted to be out of the nest before Eve woke up, knowing I'd only end up cancelling my virtual meeting if she flashed me those pretty doe eyes.

Marcus is already gone for the day. He sent me a text on his way to St Mercy's reminding me to add more vitamin C to Eve's midday meds.

As for Thorn, he mentioned something about upgrading our house security. I did consider stopping him, but for all his recent exercises in paranoia, I figured this one couldn't hurt.

Red and Riley must be busy working, because it's only Eve I find shuffling about the kitchen.

I lean over the kitchen bench. "Morning, little one."

She jumps, her hand flying to her stomach. "B–Baxter."

I frown, instantly going to her. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah. Sorry."

"You're pacing," I note. "Looking for something?"

She huffs, opening up the fridge and briefly scanning its contents. "I'm not sure."

"If you're hungry, I can make you something."

At this, she perks up. " You can make something?"

"You seem surprised."

"I've never seen you cook before," she reminds me.

"Well, I'm not Marcus. Or Red," I add quickly, smirking. "But none of Pack Maddox starved to death before those two arrived. I like to think I've mastered the basics."

She seems tempted, and at the same time bewildered, making me wonder if Carson 's head alpha ever cooked her a meal.

"So what is it?" I press. "The pup have a specific request?"

"Honestly," she says, "I don't even think I'm hungry . I'm just …"

Her eyes flit up to mine, just briefly, before she looks away again. That fleeting look is enough to send blood straight to my cock—my alpha realizing exactly what it is she's missing.

I sigh. Best not to even bring it up. Marcus is testy enough as it is.

"We could do with a few more snacks around here," I say instead. "What do you think? A quick trip to the market—see what peaks the pup's interest? Then maybe we can grab lunch at the local café."

Hope flickers through our bond. "Really? Aren't you busy?" "I'm taking a break." Besides, if I stay stuck at home, I'll end up fighting the urge to fist my cock all afternoon.

She plants a kiss on my lips before hurrying upstairs. I can't help myself from watching her as she leaves, admiring the bounce in her hips, carrying a little extra weight.

I press myself into the kitchen counter, forcing my body to soften.

I suppose the right thing to do as head alpha is invite the others. God knows we could all use an opportunity to stretch our legs and catch a breath of the outside world.

Red is on his feet before I've finished talking. Riley pushes away from her chair with an almighty stretch. Yes and yes.

Thorn is a little harder to find, tinkering in the laundry of all places.

"Do I even want to know?" I ask him wearily as he stands on top of the washing machine, reaching for small hole in the ceiling that did not use to be there.

He keeps working, unfazed. "Extra sensors."

Yeah, he definitely needs to get out of the den.

"Get your shoes," I tell him. "We're going out."

He finally looks down. "You need a security detail?"

"Uh-huh." As far as excuses though, that sounds a lot better than, Actually, I just want you to quit drilling holes in my wall .

Whether he sees straight through me, I'm not sure. I tell him we're leaving in five minutes and he just nods, already climbing down.

Red and Riley have already gathered in the foyer, muttering excitedly. I glance around for Eve. Maybe she's changing her outfit.

I wander upstairs. "Omega?" The nest door is ajar, but she doesn't respond. Probably in the bathroom. But for some reason I'm frowning as I approach the door. My inner alpha has his hackles raised, like there's some invisible threat.

"Omega," I say again.

She shuffles out of the ensuite bathroom. Pale—so pale it's like all the blood has been drained out of her. Trembling form head to toe.

I bite back a snarl— omega hurt? Omega scared. So, so scared —and race towards her, propping her up beneath her forearms.

"Omega," I say urgently, "what is it? Talk to me."

With a pained gasp, her legs give out.

"Hey. Hey—" I grip on tighter, lowering us both down to our knees. Should I carry her to the nest? Or maybe she just needs to be wrapped up in my arms. I force myself to breathe. No. First, I need to know what's wrong.

"Talk to me," I urge, putting one hand on the side of her stomach and the other on the side of her face. "Where does it hurt?"

Her eyes are big and faraway, like twin planets. "B–bleeding," she whispers.

My stomach plummets. "Bleeding where? How much?"

Shakily, she points to a discarded pair of underwear on the bathroom tiles. A crimson stain stands out against the fabric—just enough to bleed through.

"Alright." I take another breath, my heart pounding, forcing calm into my lungs. "What's the pain like? Sharp? Cramping?"

"S–short. L–like spasms." Her eyes water. "Is it the pup? Are they g–gonna be okay?"

I've never been more grateful for my instincts, which kick in the second I see her cry, as I press my lips to her forehead and gather her in my arms. "Everything will be just fine."

If it were just the pain, or just the bleeding, I might be able to write it off. All the books and websites say these things are normal enough in early pregnancy. But when they're combined— and throwing Eve's existing conditions into the mix—it could spell trouble.

I push all the anxiety to one dark corner of my mind, giving myself space to plan our next move.

"Thorn!" I call out over my shoulder.

We don't hear him coming, but he appears within moments. His lips part in a split-second of unabashed panic before he steels himself, ready for orders.

"Get the car," I tell him, "and tell Riley to call Marcus."

Nothing else needs to be said. He slips away as silently as he entered, only the stark edge to his scent giving him away.

"Alright, little one, let's get you up."

I don't bother asking if she can stand—I'm carrying her whether she likes it or not. My heart splinters with her every grimace and sharp intake of breath.

"Happening again?" I demand.

She nods.

"Keep breathing."

I don't know what the hell Thorn said to Riley and Red to keep them both sane, but they don't hesitate when I appear at the bottom of the stairs. Red helps me out to the car, opening up the door and making space for Eve to lie down between us.

"We got you, baby," he says. "Just squeeze Bax's hand."

Riley jumps into the passenger seat, muttering sharply to Marcus on the phone. She nods, then looks back at me. "What are Eve's symptoms, exactly?"

I wish I could cover Eve's ears. Protect her mind from what's happening to her body.

"Heavy spotting," I answer, "and spasming pains in her stomach."

Riley's jaw flexes—a flash of horror in her steely eyes—before she relays the information.

Behind the wheel, Thorn tears off onto the freeway. If I didn't trust he was such a competent driver, I'd probably snarl at him to be more careful.

Suddenly Eve gasps, straightening against me. "Alpha—" she whimpers.

"Here. I'm right here." I squeeze her hands. "Just breathe."

Across from us, Red bristles, panic alight in his eyes. "Baxter, she's bleeding."

Yes, we already established that, I almost snap. But then I smell it, too.

Fresh blood.

Eve trembles so intensely I'm worried she'll either throw up or pass out. I wrap my arms around her, rubbing her stomach, like somehow the warmth from my palms will seep into her. That our pup will feel it, too.

"We'll be at the hospital soon," I say.

I don't know who I'm speaking to at this point—Eve, my packmates, or the pup whose life might be hanging in the balance.