“He shouldn’t have driven here,” Tyrus continued. “You can yell at him later, but for now, just get here.”
I broke every speeding law there was in this town, which wasn’t hard to do, given the limits were either 35 or 50. If they wanted to give me a ticket, they could…after I got to my mate. I pulled into the clinic and ran, not needing to ask where to go, his cries guiding my way.
I rushed in to the patient room to see my mate on the bed, panting and covered in sweat.
“Oh, honey, why didn’t you call me?” I squatted down so I could be face-to-face with him.
“Left…phone…home.”
“Why didn’t you call before you left?”
“Didn’t….want…worry…”
Then he squeezed his eyes shut, the growl of his beast building in his chest.
“Is that normal?” I snapped my attention to Tyrus.
“That’s normal, given how far along in his labor he is. It’s almost time to push.”
“How far along?”
“Your mate here was laboring at home, probably since before you left this morning. He said, and I quote, ‘First labors take a long time. I didn’t want to worry him.’”
We were definitely having words later. But as his next contraction hit and his screams filled the room, I let all of that fall away and focused on helping him through the labor. We practiced breathing and ways that I could assist him, one of which was showing my beast through my eyes as a way of communicating with his. I’d never heard of that before, but it was something Tyrus had been trying. He said it worked, and who was I to say otherwise.
There were other staff members in the room helping him, and I didn’t learn until later that it wasn’t the norm to have this many people. But then again, three babies at once wasn’t the norm either.
I wasn’t there twenty minutes when my mate was being directed to push. He pushed and pushed as I spoke low in his ear how great he was doing. I was trying to mask my fear and not doing well at it. And then we heard our first child cry. Tyrus didn’t even tell us if they were a boy or a girl, just passed them to one of his assistants and then told my mate to push again.
“They’re coming fast, Zac, which means you don’t have time to rest in between. You know how this goes.”
He might have known, but I didn’t.
He was pushing again, and then our second was born, and then our third, all three of them crying as they were cleaned up and ready for us.
That’s when Tyrus changed. He was no longer as calm and collected as he had been. “You need to shift. You need to shift now.”
“I’m too tired,” my mate gasped.
Tyrus looked at me. “Shift. Maybe his wolf will follow.”
I didn’t need to be asked twice. Something bad was happening, and if my bear could help, then we were going to do it. I forced a shift, my clothes and shoes shredding.
Standing over my mate, my bear pushed forward and growled a ferocious, loud, demanding growl, the likes of which he’d never done before. It must’ve been exactly what Zac’s wolf needed because where my mate had lain was his beast. He stood up, his legs wobbly, and pushed his head against my bear. Not the energetic little wolf he usually was but doing so much better than my mate’s human half had been.
“Take him outside and run,” Tyrus ordered. “I’ll call when it’s time. The babies are fine. They’re perfect, Edris. They don’t need you right now. Your mate does.”
I didn’t see who opened the door for us, but out we went, running behind the center. We ran and ran, staying close, knowing that any second, Tyrus could call us back. A few times, my bear had to stop his mate from going in early. If he needed to be in this form for this long, then he was going to stay. The babies weren’t going anywhere and were being well taken care of.
It felt like hours but, in reality, was only ten minutes later when Tyrus called us back in. We shifted and ran inside to see our three perfect little babies waiting for us in the arms of three assistants.
“On the bed, Zac. I need to make sure you’re okay first.” He was all business, taking blood pressure readings, listening to his lungs, and I didn’t even know what else. But once again, he was the calm, collected healer I knew. I already felt better about the situation.
“You scared me there,” Tyrus admitted. He handed my mate our firstborn girl then our second-born, also a girl, and then passed me our son.
I knew it had been bad, but it wasn’t until his postnatal checkup that I really understood just how close I had come to losing my mate that day. How close our kids, Kellie, Addison, and Marc had come to losing their dad.
“They’re perfect, absolutely perfect, alpha mine.”
