“Why does this fucking door weigh a thousand pounds?” a familiar voice echoed through the vents.
“Maggie!” Parker melted with relief.
“Parker?! Get your fucking ass down here, dingus. I can’t manage her on my own.”
Finding the door to the basement, we barreled down the stairs.
“Clover!” I rushed toward the omegas and clutched an exhausted and slightly gray Clover, belatedly realizing she cradled a bundle in her arms.
Holy fucking shit.
That was a baby.
Clover’s eyes rolled back in a full faint, her weight hitting me all at once. Logan pushed his way into the narrow hallway, helping me carefully lower Clover and extract the baby.
“Jesus, the cord is still attached,” Logan murmured, changing tactics and scooping her straight into his arms.
“We didn’t have anything to cut it with,” Maggie said, voice watery. She broke into a wrenching sob when Parker wiggled through, wrapping his arms around his sister and mate. “Thank fuck it’s you guys. I thought they were coming back. They got spooked about something, tried to take us, but I fought so hard they gave up, forgot to lock the door when they bolted.”
“Fuck, okay let’s get out of here. Clover… Fuck,” Logan gazed down at the baby clutched in my arms. “Fucking Christ, they made us miss the birth of our own child. Clover could’ve—” He sucked in a trembling breath. “Avery, call an ambulancenow. Hunter, stay close to me.”
I stared at the little treasure I held.
Our baby.
We didn’t even know if it was a boy or a girl.
“Maggie, how long since she gave birth?”
“I dunno, half an hour, maybe?”
I made the mistake of glancing into the room beyond, seeing nothing but bare concrete and a stained mattress. The thought of Clover being in there at all, let alone having to give birth there, made me sick.
“We need to go.” Parker scooped up his weeping sister, all of us more than ready to get out of his fucking hellhole.
Sirens wailed in the distance. Delia and her alphas couldn’t be far. With any luck, they’d be enjoying their own concrete room shortly.
“Are you sure she’s okay?” Clover asked the nurse for what must have been the hundredth time. We’d all asked them the same about both mother and baby just as many times.
“She’s perfect,” the nurse said, giving Clover an indulgent smile.
The hospital staff were actual saints for putting up with us. The ambulance had met us on the street outside the house, and they’d taken her away. We’d crammed back into our vehicles with Maggie to follow.
Doctors had leapt upon Clover and the baby the moment they arrived and quickly got them moved up to the obstetrics wing, in the best private suite they had available.
Somehow, our daughter was perfectly healthy, had a lovely set of lungs, and was single-handedly the most amazing creature I had ever laid eyes on.
Not that she did much. Mainly she slept, ate, and occasionally passed gas.
But it was cute gas.
She hadn’t even had a chance to lie in her crib yet. We passed her around the pack so everyone could beam adoration out of their eyeballs at her and cradle her tiny form. She didn’t have a name quite yet, but I knew Clover would pick something perfect.
“I’m sorry,” Clover said, but the nurse shushed her.
“It’s totally understandable that you need reassurance, but you’ve been a rock star, and every test indicates your little girl is healthy. Not to mention already attached to you.”
Clover had been admitted to the hospital, where she had been for the last twenty-four hours. They’d checked over Maggie as well, but besides the emotional trauma and a few scratches, she was fine. Parker was being overprotective of all his girls, and who could blame him?
