by Viola Rivard
Asch stood as Fern left the room. “Brae, when you’re done, get River. The two of you are going to take Talon and the boy to town and find a doctor for him. After that, you’ll bring Mila’s doctor back here.”
“What if he doesn’t want to come?”
Caim said, “Then you’ll make him come.”
Brae nodded and skittered away. Asch started toward the passageway, then cocked his head to look back at Caim. “Are you coming?”
Caim averted his eyes. “Someone needs to stay here and watch them. You go.”
Asch stared at him for a moment, surprised by his response. Too absorbed in his own, chaotic emotions, Asch didn’t have the time to decipher Caim’s reaction, so he rushed off down the passageway toward Mila’s room.
* * *
Mila never thought she would be totally okay with a woman sticking half of her hand inside her. After washing up, Fern had ordered Mila to lie down on the furs so she could “check her out.” Mila was moderately relieved that someone competent had arrived, that was, until Fern began talking.
“Yep, your thing is definitely ready,” she said brightly, the wrinkles along the sides of her eyes crinkling.
“My ‘thing?’” Mila repeated warily.
“The hole where the pup comes out,” Fern clarified.
Mila sat up. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
Lotus put a hand on Mila’s arm. “Fern has been bringing pups into the world since before you were born. Relax.”
Mila’s shoulders slumped and she sighed, putting her hands over her stomach. The pain so far had been bad, but not unbearable. Next to the concern she had for the baby, it was virtually nothing. All she wanted was for him to be okay.
Asch entered the room, his face awash with concern. As soon as Mila saw him, she wondered why she’d ever told Brae not to get him. Relief flooded her.
“Is it time?” he asked as he came over to crouch down next to Mila. He took her hand in his and squeezed it.
“Still a few more hours to go, but it’ll definitely be tonight,” Fern told him. She nodded at Lotus. “Let’s give them some privacy.”
Asch looked uncomfortable as the others got up to leave.
“It’s okay,” Mila said. “I doubt she’ll miss anything.”
It was hot in the small room, and her body was sticky with sweat, but that didn’t stop her from leaning against him. He hunched down so she could rest her head in the crook of his neck.
“Are you scared?” he asked, rubbing the back of her neck.
“Are you?”
He kissed the top of her head. “Terrified.”
“Caim?”
“I think he’s more afraid than the both of us.”
Mila bit her lip and pressed herself closer to Asch. She was torn between feeling sorry for Caim and being annoyed with him. Annoyance won out when her next contraction hit, and she grit her teeth, trying not to make a big show of it. Gently, Asch massaged her back until it passed.
“Can we just stay like this until it’s over?” she murmured into his neck.
“We can stay like this for as long as you need to.”
He held her for a long time, kissed and caressed her. Fern came in to check on her several times, and when her contractions grew closer together, Fern finally shooed Asch from the room.
Mila didn’t advocate for him to stay. Although the pain was becoming more intense, everything seemed to be going smoothly. The baby was in the right position, and according to Fern, her labor was progressing nicely, albeit a little fast.
Without any cause for concern over the baby, her old fears began to reemerge and she didn’t want Asch there when the baby was born. She would need time to mentally prepare herself for what was to come. One of her mates was about to be a father, and the other was not.
14
Mila had thought the IHOP baby—as she had affectionately dubbed him—was quite possibly the tiniest person she’d ever seen. Her daughter was half his size and all Mila could do was stare down at her serene little face with a mixture of apprehension and terror.
“Are you going to be okay?” Fern asked. She dabbed Mila’s forehead with a damp cloth. “Want something to drink?”
Hoarsely, Mila said, “When I was in junior high they gave me an egg to take care of for the weekend.” She gave Fern a desperate look. “I broke it.”
Fern blinked at the non sequitur. “Well, I wouldn’t worry too much. She’s a little tougher than an egg.” She fluffed the pillows and helped Mila lay back. “Heaven knows, we dropped Caim plenty of times, and he turned out just fine.”
Mila gave her a shaky smile. “You knew Caim when he was a baby?”
“Sure did,” Fern said brightly. “And lucky for her, she looks nothing like her father.”
Mila looked down at her daughter. With her pudgy little face and her cute button nose, she looked far too soft and delicate to belong to Caim—yet Mila hadn’t needed Fern to sniff it out for her, she had just known.
“He didn’t come in to see me,” she said to Fern.
The older woman gave Mila a sympathetic look. “I imagine this has been very difficult for him.”
Mila frowned, her earlier annoyance returning. “It’s been pretty difficult for me, too.”
“His first sister was born prematurely,” Fern told her. She gathered up the soiled blankets and cloths. “Much earlier than this little angel, and it didn’t go well.”
“I didn’t know,” Mila said, feeling somewhat guilty. “He doesn’t talk much about his past with me. Did she … was she okay?”
Fern gave her a slow, sad smile. “None of us thought she’d make it through the night, but she did.” She looked down to fold a cloth in her lap. Quietly, she added, “Her mother didn’t, though.”
The room was silent for a moment, save for the rustle of fabric and gentle sound of her daughter’s breathing. Mila was at a loss for words. She stared down at her daughter and blinked back tears.
When Fern spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper. “You’ll be easy on him.”
It wasn’t a question, but Mila nodded anyway. Fern wrapped up the soiled laundry in one of the furs, then gathered it all up in her arms.
“Want me to send them down?”
“No, not just yet,” said Mila. Fern nodded and headed for the doorway. “Wait,” she called out. Fern paused. “What was her name?”
Without asking for clarification, Fern replied, “Dawn, and yes, I think that would be a good idea.”
Then she was gone, leaving Mila alone with her daughter.
If it weren’t for the hours of labor and the dull pain she was in, Mila wouldn’t have believed that she’d just become a parent. Her mother had once told her that she’d known she had finally become an adult the day she’d given birth. Mila, however, had never felt so much like a child.
The moment Fern left the room, Mila unswaddled her daughter as if she were opening up a birthday present. She counted every finger and toe, softly pinching each one for good measure. The baby seemed equally fascinated by her mother and watched without complaint as Mila poked and prodded her.
“Who thought it would be a good idea to leave us alone?” she whispered. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with you.” The baby stared back at her through bleary eyes. Mila ran a finger down her daughter’s face, and then leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead. “I guess we’ll just have to figure it out as we go.”
Mila relaxed back on the pillows and brought the baby up to her breast to nurse. The worst wasn’t over, but she had Dawn, and right now, that was all that mattered.
* * *
“Stop pacing,” Caim said irritably.
“Stop tapping your knuckles on the damn floor,” Asch countered, matching Caim’s tone.
They were alone in the main room. The rest of the pack had returned to the den just before sunrise, only to slink off into the lower chambers after gauging the moods of their alphas. Talon had left with River, Brae,
and the pup several hours ago, reluctantly entrusting what was left of his pack to Lazarus’s care.
There were many things Asch and Caim could have discussed in the hours they were sequestered in the room with one another, namely, what they were going to do about the Blackthorn pack, but for the first time in a long time, they had nothing to say to each other.
Fern came up periodically to update them on their mate’s progress. She would say things like “she’s doing great” and “everything’s going well.”
If everything was going so well, then why the fuck was it taking so long?
It made no sense to Caim, just as it made no sense that Mila was giving birth so soon. They had taken perfectly good care of her, hadn’t they? He could not remember a time when he had felt so unsure of himself and so lost.
He regretted not going to her. The last time he had seen his mate, he had ordered her away. Then, he had refused to see her when she went into labor. If she died, those would be her last memories of him. Caim had never come so close to hating himself.
Caim glanced over at Asch, who was still pacing. Before their mate had come into their lives, Caim had always relied on his friend to be his one true confidant. Whenever something weighed heavily on his mind, he would speak frankly about it with Asch, who had never judged him.
Since Mila had come into their lives, though, Caim had been guarded with his feelings. The things he felt, particularly when they pertained to his mate, were private to him. They shared her body and her love. His feelings toward her were the one part of her that was his and no one else’s.
In deep thought, he did not realize Asch had stopped pacing until he was sitting down next to him. Asch’s eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was in disarray from constantly worrying it with his fingers.
“You look like shit,” said Asch.
Caim grinned, about to respond, when he heard footsteps approaching. He turned his attention to the mouth of the tunnel. He stood when he caught Fern’s scent mingled with the smell of his mate’s blood.
She emerged from the dark tunnel, carrying a large bundle of what appeared to be furs. Both males approached her uneasily.
“All over,” she said cheerfully. “Mama’s fine, pup is fine, and that’s all that matters right now, understood?” They gave her obligatory nods. “Good, now I want you to take this,” she said, handing the bundle to Asch.
They both stared down at the furs. Caim fully expected there to be a pup somewhere within the bloodied pelts, but there was none. He glanced up at Fern impatiently.
Carefully, she said to Asch, “You are going to go down to the lake and clean these up. Hang them up to dry and go for a run. When you’re ready, you can come back and see your mate.” She looked to Caim. “And you are going to go meet your daughter.”
15
“Do you want to hold her?” Mila asked uncertainly.
She wasn’t sure what to make of Caim’s reaction to his daughter. He had entered the room a few moments ago and had approached her as though she were holding a bomb to her chest rather than a newborn. Now, he crouched beside them and stared down at the baby as though he didn’t know what he was looking at.
His brows furrowed as he considered the question, then he said, “No.”
She tried to get a read on him, but his expression was too ambiguous for her to discern. Not allowing herself to get discouraged, she decided to try a different angle.
“Well, I’m really tired,” she said. “Can you just hold her for a second while I get comfortable?”
Mila didn’t wait for him to respond. She plucked Dawn from her chest and, very gently, shoved her at her father.
Probably reacting more on instinct than willingness, Caim accepted the small bundle.
At first, he held her awkwardly in his hands. She was so tiny and his hands were so big that she fit in them perfectly. Then, to Mila’s surprise, Caim leaned back onto the floor and laid the baby on his chest. Forgetting that she was supposed to be making herself comfortable, Mila scooted herself over to lie beside him. He opened his arm, letting Mila rest her head on his chest.
“Are you disappointed that she’s not a boy?”
“No,” was his only reply.
Mila waited for him to say more, and when he didn’t, she craned her neck up to look at him and frowned. His head turned toward her, he had already fallen into a deep, easy sleep.
Sleep did not come as easily to Mila. Despite her exhaustion, she couldn’t stop thinking about Asch, who had yet to make an appearance. She assumed Fern had told him, which was somewhat of a relief to her. She wasn’t sure she could bear to be the one to tell him.
She felt bad for Asch, and also for her daughter, who through no fault of her own, had broken a heart the day she’d come into the world.
While sleep eluded her, she watched Dawn, who had fallen asleep as well. With her head to the side and her mouth hanging open, she might as well have been mimicking her father’s pose. Her tiny hand curled and uncurled in her sleep, almost as if she was kneading his chest. Mila had no clue what type of relationship Caim would have with his daughter, but right now, they seemed perfect for one another.
That was her last thought before she drifted into sleep.
Her dreams were fragmented images of her childhood, a few memories of her distant father, but mostly of her mother. Then her dreams shifted, and she was nestled between Asch and Caim—everything suddenly whole and complete.
Everything hurt when she finally woke up. She tried desperately to fall back into the sublime peace of her dream world, but the sound of several people talking at once forced her into reality.
Mila cracked open her eyes. A female silhouette hovered above her and gradually morphed into Gem’s smiling face.
“Good evening,” Gem said with enthusiasm. “I have water for you and food too, if you’re hungry.”
She helped Mila into a sitting position and offered her a cup of cool water. Mila accepted it gratefully, gulping down the contents in two large swallows.
She glanced around the room and her eyes landed on a small group congregated a few feet from the pallet. Lotus and Rosie fawned over the baby, who was carefully tucked in the crook of Asch’s arm.
Following her gaze, Gem said, “Don’t worry, she’s already eaten.”
Mila blinked in confusion.
Humor lacing his tone, Asch said, “We put her against your chest about an hour ago. You slept right through it.”
Mila laughed, more from joy at seeing Asch than at her sleep-feeding. He looked genuinely happy, and it thrilled her. With considerable effort, she crawled over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck in a loose embrace.
When she pulled back, Mila gazed into his eyes in search of any sign of lingering sadness. She wanted to say so many things to him, but it was all too private for her to talk about in front of the others.
Asch didn’t seem to have the same qualms. He placed a hand on the side of her face. “I was disappointed, but I’m fine now,” he assured her.
“Honestly?” she asked softly, as if speaking low would afford them any privacy in their present company.
He looked down at Dawn and grinned. “How could I possibly be disappointed in her?”
Dawn yawned, and then noticing Mila for the first time, made a fussy noise and reached out for her mother. Asch placed the now familiar weight into Mila’s arms.
* * *
Mila was grateful that Asch was so supportive, because Caim became downright tyrannical in the week that followed Dawn’s birth. Mila, Asch, and Fern were the only ones besides himself who were allowed to touch Dawn, or as he referred to her, “my daughter.” “My” being the word he would emphasize when anyone tried to contradict him.
It was charming at first, but quickly became exasperating as he refused to let anyone leave their room with her, Asch and Mila included, unless he was present. Mila wouldn’t have tolerated it if Fern hadn’t explained that all of his instincts, particularly the need to protect Dawn,
would be in overdrive for the first month. So, Mila did her best to be patient and managed to bite her tongue almost every time she felt the urge to say, “She’s my daughter too!” Caim was completely impervious to that argument anyway.
Mila spent most of her nights in her room with Dawn and various pack members who filtered in and out. Brae returned two days after Dawn’s birth and was happier than anyone to see that Mila and the baby were all right. Her arrival also put Asch and Caim in the position of having to make a decision regarding the Blackthorn members.
Talon had stayed in town with the injured boy, who by all accounts would make it, but not without amputating his leg. After a very long, drawn-out argument, it was Mila who had the final say in the matter. The two elderly wolves would be given the option to leave if they wanted, but the children were staying with the Lazarus pack, where they would be safe. That was something Mila would absolutely not negotiate on.
As for Talon, both alphas were in agreement that he couldn’t stay, and neither would budge on the issue. He was young, but in time, he would grow into a powerful alpha, which was not something her mates would tolerate in the den. Apparently, even unconventional alphas such as Asch and Caim had their limits.
On one of the cooler summer nights, Mila was overcome with the urge to clean. Chalking it up to delayed nesting syndrome, she handed Dawn off to her father and went down to their room, intent on tearing it up and reorganizing everything.
The room, with its constant influx of visitors, was a huge mess. Makeshift fur pallets were strewn across the floor, full of dust and dirt that the wolves had tracked in from outside. Her clothes were divided into three piles: dirty, clean, and somewhere in between, and all three of the piles were on the floor.
She sorted through the clothes and weeded out the ones she would probably never fit into again, unless she lost some major baby weight. Once she had them all gathered up, she opened one of her old luggage bags, intent on stuffing them away—out of sight, out of mind. Something caught her eye, though; the same thing that always did whenever she delved into the remnants of her past.
