"I felt the baby move," I said, grinning.
Torion's eyes widened, and he fell to my side on the blanket, one hand automatically reaching out and then pausing to hover over my waist. I took it and pressed it over where I'd felt movement.
"You won't be able to feel anything yet," I said, leaning into his side.
"I know…I know, I just…" Torion shifted closer and then wrapped his other arm around me, pulling me to rest against his chest. "I didn't realize how much joy I could feel."
I stretched up, and his head bowed to meet mine, our lips joining softly, holding the kiss for long breaths.
I didn't realize how easy you would make it to feel safe with you. To trust you, I thought, but didn't say. Instead, I rested there, held and loved by my alpha.
I'd writtento Catherine Eames after the accounting feast, plain words seeking advice on childbearing, and she'd agreed to visit readily enough.
Upon first glance, the older woman was exactly what I'd been led to believe a grandmother ought to look like. My own personal experience of a grandmother had been my father's mother, a nervous woman who'd never seemed very comfortable with me in her home, but I'd read fairy tales and seen the gentle village women who gathered together to knit under the shade of a tree in the park. Widow Eames, at first glance, matched those women who'd always had gingerbread wrapped in wax sheets in their bags and spared smiles to little girls who passed them on the street. She was petite, her round cheeks doing favors to her age, and her fashion seemed to favor a ruffle, even down to the little frills around her wrists.
But appearances could be deceiving.
"Well, you've certainly grown yourself in consequence, my dear," Catherine Eames declared upon seating herself in my office at the keep.
"I…thank you," I said, and tried not to let it sound like a question.
"I wouldn't have said you were wasted on Barr. You seemed just his type. And plenty of women seem to stagnate after their youth. But the best of us grow sharper and stronger with age," she said, nodding once.
I took in a breath and decided that was a fair assessment of me. I knew plenty of omegas whose betas strayed from their beds, and either they were oblivious or they chose to be oblivious. I'd borne a grudge. I couldn't say whether or not it had done me many favors, but it had gotten me out of Malcolm's house.
And then I'd found my way here.
I cleared my throat and scooted to the edge of my chair, reaching for the tea.
"Are you drinking raspberry leaf?" Catherine asked, voice still sharp, those eyes I'd thought twinkled now hawkishly observant.
"I am," I said, nodding.
"Good girl. You're securing your place here with the alpha well enough, I see."
I smiled at that. "Torion was set on keeping me, regardless of the outcome of the rut. But I do want any wisdom you can offer, for my own sake. And for the child's."
"Who is your doctor?"
I frowned. "We've spoken to Thistlethwaite."
"An absolute idiot of a physician," Catherine Eames said without hesitation or any gentling of the insult.
I snorted in spite of myself and passed her a cup of tea. I brought my own cup to my lips and paused, the rim heating my flesh as I considered how to broach my questions.
I found myself saying something else entirely. "Thistlethwaite considers me too old to bear the child safely. He wants Torion to consider a plan for extracting the child."
"More omegas die in childbirth as a result of extractions than the challenge of labor," Catherine Eames said with a dark scowl before turning to study me speculatively. "You're young enough yet to give the alpha an heir and a few daughters to boot, I'd guess."
I hummed, thinking of what Mairwen had told me. If my lifetime were to match Torion's because of our mating, I might be young enough to give him several sons and daughters. The thought warmed me and I fought my smile, not wanting to explain it to the other omega. Mairwen might think that the bite Torion had left on my thigh would assure an easier pregnancy or a safer labor, but I wanted every advantage. My future was precious to me now, and I would take no chances.
"Your family is known for healthy children, safer deliveries," I said, holding the woman's gaze.
Her lips quirked and her head tipped, one thick white curl bouncing free of its pin. "Don't be coy, dear."
I sucked in a breath and nodded, setting my cup back to its saucer. "Do you have any wisdom, any advice to impart that might help me see this child safely into the world, preferably without sacrificing my own life?"
Catherine Eames sighed and sank back into her chair, almost nestling into the cushions and resting the saucer and tea on her belly.
