The Omega's Secret Pregnancy (Men of Meadowfall Book 1)

by Anna Wineheart

  52

  Kade

  Kade freezes, his thoughts stumbling. Water broke. His water broke.

  They’ve read something about the membranes breaking, and it should be fine. It should. But Felix’s pregnancy still bears a risk. He can’t help thinking I can’t lose Felix, and the thought winds around his throat, constricting his breath.

  “Hang on,” he says unsteadily. “Gonna get you to the hospital.”

  Felix nods. Kade flips his visor down, urging the bike back onto the street. Do I have ten minutes? Twenty? Should’ve remembered my temper. Should’ve just gotten out of the store.

  He guides the bike down the streets, the joy of riding evaporating.

  Felix isn’t due for another week. His water shouldn’t be breaking now. Did the baby get hurt? Had it been crushed in the fall? Kade swears, his skin prickling. The fall hurt Felix. There are too many cars on the road, too many other things that can go wrong.

  The trees and buildings brush by in a mess of colors. Kade pulls into the hospital parking lot, breathing fast. The second he shuts off the engine, he slips off the bike, cradling Felix against himself. “C’mon, get your legs up. I’ll carry you in.”

  “I-I don’t think it’s that bad,” he says, pulling his helmet off. But he swallows, looking down at his belly. Kade wishes he could look into it, see if there’s anything wrong with the baby.

  “But your water just broke!” Kade swears, stepping around in a circle, his nerves jangling.

  “I know, I know.” Felix sets the helmet down, pulling his feet onto the rider’s seat while Kade supports him. “But I mostly sheltered my belly. The baby is still moving. I think we’ll be fine.”

  The moment he’s ready, Kade scoops his omega into his arms, striding into the emergency department. “I need to know you’ll be fine,” he says, his voice catching. They’ve been through so much already. “Can’t lose you or the baby.”

  Felix leans into his chest, cradling his belly. “Me neither.”

  Most of the seats are filled, and the scent of disinfectant permeates through the air. Kade swears, stopping by the receptionist. They can’t wait three hours for the doctor. “My omega fell. He says he’s in pain.”

  The nurse looks over Felix, and pulls a walkie talkie from under the counter, radioing a doctor. “I’ll need you to fill in this form,” she says, setting a clipboard down on the counter. “I’m having a doctor come over right now.”

  Kade bristles as they wait, scanning for an available doctor. They don’t have time to fill in fucking forms. His omega needs to be examined right now.

  It takes forever before a nurse appears. Kade follows her to a room, one with partitioned walls of teal curtains. There, he sets Felix down gently on the bed, the paper sheets beneath him crinkling. Next to them, the ultrasound machines remain silent—Kade recognizes the screens, scanners, and gel tubes.

  The doctor steps in after a minute—a tall, built man smelling like mint. He takes the clipboard Kade has hurriedly filled, calmly scanning over the scrawled words.

  Kade doesn’t wait for introductions. “I walked backward into my omega and he fell. Says he’s hurting.”

  The doctor nods, logging into the computer. He types as Felix talks, then listens to Felix’s heartbeat and lungs. Then he asks questions like Do you have difficulty breathing? Where do you feel pain?

  Felix says he breathes fine. Pain in his belly. Kade tenses, watching him, wishing he could help.

  The doctor sets the stethoscope on Felix’s abdomen, listening. Then he touches the baby bump, and Felix exchanges a look with Kade, smiling slightly. I think we’ll be all right, Felix’s eyes say, but Kade can’t relax.

  “Both your heart rates are normal—the fetus’s is at 150. It’s moving well, no fetal distress.” The doctor takes Felix’s blood pressure, then looks up. “Because Felix fell, we’ll do an ultrasound to check for placental abruption.”

  Kade doesn’t know half of what the doctor’s talking about. “Did it break any bones?”

  “It shouldn’t have,” the doctor says. “At this point, we’re more concerned about tears in the placenta and bleeding.”

  “But he fell,” Kade says. “That’s enough to break something. It broke his water, didn’t it?”

  “Minor trauma won’t break the membranes,” the doctor says patiently. “It was probably a coincidence.”

  Kade looks at Felix, who shrugs.

  The doctor gets Felix to pull his shirt up, and they go over the ultrasound procedures again—the gel, the black-and-white images on the screen. “The placenta appears to be intact,” the doctor says. “But we’re going to have to admit you anyway. Both to monitor you and the fetus for any complications, as well as to prevent infections.”

  Kade sighs, slipping his hand into Felix’s. They’re going to be okay, right?

  “I’ll transfer you to our labor unit. We’ll be seeing if the contractions start,” the doctor says. “Kade, you may want to return home and pack an overnight bag.”

  Kade stares at Felix, his stomach twisting. “I can’t just leave him.”

  But he knows that they’ll need to get things ready for the baby. Felix can’t be doing any of that. They aren’t even ready for the baby yet.

  “I’ll be fine,” Felix says, squeezing his hand. “Text me if you need anything.”

  “I should be saying that to you,” Kade says, but the tension in his shoulders eases slightly when Felix smiles up at him.

  “Leave the giraffe with me?”

  “I’ll get it,” Kade says. He squeezes Felix’s hand, heading out for the bike.

  When he returns some minutes later, he finds Felix in the hallway in a wheelchair, cradling his belly, an ID tag on his wrist. Kade sets the giraffe on the crown of his abdomen, sliding his fingers over Felix’s nape. “You okay?”

  Felix beams up at him. “I’m fine.”

  “I’ll drop by home really quick. Tell mom you’re in labor. She’ll probably have a better idea what to do.” Kade chuckles. He’s kind of glad, suddenly, that they’re living with his mom. She’s the one with three kids.

  “Say hi to her for me,” Felix says, holding the giraffe close. “Ride safe.”

  Kade leans in, kissing his bondmate slowly on the lips. “Be back soon. Take care of you and the baby.”

  Felix laughs softly against him, his breath warm on Kade’s skin. “Will do.”

  53

  Kade

  Kade dashes in through the front door, the oily scent of bike exhaust still in his nose. At the door slamming, Mom pokes her head out of the kitchen.

  “Felix’s water broke. Premature,” Kade says, breathless. “I’m taking the car to the hospital. Gotta pack an overnight bag. But he said hi.”

  “Oh! How’s the labor going?”

  “Not started yet. Need to get back.” He leaves her behind on the stairs, sprinting to the bedroom he shares with Felix. Bag. Toothbrush. Toothpaste. Sleeping clothes. Socks. Warm slippers.

  “It might be better if you don’t toss them all into the bag at once,” his mom says, smiling from the doorway. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t want to miss it,” Kade says, his breath catching. It’s Felix, and it’s their baby, and he wants to be there for Felix when he goes into labor. They’re going to be dads. They’re going to be dads! Is he going to screw up? Are they going to be good enough? He’ll need to take some time off work to stay with Felix, and oh, hell, they’ll be bringing a baby home. Their baby.

  “Take some spare change with you,” his mom says. “For vending machines. It could be a long wait, since it’s his first.”

  Kade groans. He doesn’t want to wait anymore. “Sure.”

  He throws other things into the bag, like phone chargers and a camera, and sketchpads.

  “Is Felix all settled in?”

  “Yeah. They’ve got him changed into the hospital clothes. I left him with the giraffe.” And it’s kind of funny, Felix and that giraffe they joked
about so long ago. Back then, Kade hadn’t even known about the pregnancy. “Shit, I’m gonna be a dad. We’ll have a baby here this time tomorrow.”

  “Nervous?” His mom smiles.

  “Yeah.” When he’s got clothes for him and Felix, a pillow, and probably more things than they need, Kade looks around. “Never thought I’d be a dad.”

  “You’ll do fine,” his mom says, pride on her face. “So will Felix.”

  Doesn’t seem like we need anything else from here. He relaxes a little more, stopping by the doorway to pull his mom into a hug. “Be back soon. Get your sleep in. I’m sure it’s gonna get busy around here.”

  She laughs. Kade sucks in a deep breath, wishing he could be as calm as she is.

  At the hospital, he checks his phone again. I’m in Ward 63A, Felix texted. Things are fine.

  Kade weaves through the corridors, brushing by nurses and people strolling around. There are too many people in here. He needs to get to Felix.

  He barrels into the ward, almost knocking down a nurse. Felix smiles up from the cot. The sheets are pulled over his hips, and he’s in a purple hospital gown, tiny in the wide bed. “You really didn’t have to rush.”

  “You weren’t waiting for me?” Kade grins, slowing down when he reaches his bondmate’s side. “I brought you things.”

  Felix wriggles the giraffe at him. “I had company. It smells like you. It was comforting.”

  Kade sets the overnight bag at the foot of the bed, relaxing. Felix scoots over the mattress. Kade squeezes beside him, gingerly holding his belly. “It’s fine?”

  “It is. You really don’t have to worry,” Felix says, folding Kade’s hand into his own. “I just had the first contraction a few minutes ago.”

  Kade’s breath catches in his throat. “It’s starting?”

  “Seems that way, yes.” Felix snuggles close to Kade, leaning his head against Kade’s shoulder. “But it might be many more hours yet. I hope you won’t get bored.”

  Kade laughs. “Bored? With you?”

  Felix grins. “Oh, sure. I’ll just be here being bitchy and pregnant for the next several hours.”

  Kade kisses him. “Then I’ll wait with you,” he says, gingerly touching the baby bump again. It moves against his palm, and his heart skips. “Go ahead and bitch.”

  “Ha!” Felix leans in and kisses him, his eyes glowing with warmth. “You’re the very best, Kade.”

  And those words light Kade up from inside.

  Three hours in, Kade’s nerves twist together, like live wires trapped in his body. “It’s not coming out yet?”

  Felix winces as he breathes through a contraction, squeezing Kade’s hand. “No. It’s supposed to take longer than this.”

  The midwife checks on them. Kade sighs, leaning in to smell the lavender of his bondmate’s hair. “Guess I should’ve expected this.”

  “You think?” But Felix grins. He slaps Kade lightly on the thigh. “Go read your bike magazines,” he says. “You’re more worried about this than I am.”

  Kade sighs, grumbling as he pulls his phone out. “Fine.”

  Five hours in, Kade paces on the floor around the bed. “You’d think it’ll be out faster,” he says. “Breaking the water and all that. What the hell is it still doing in there?”

  “It’s waiting for you to calm down,” Felix says, his tone dry. He cuddles the pillow from home, tossing the giraffe at Kade. “Looks like you need a snuggle buddy.”

  “I’m fine,” Kade grumbles, his heart still pattering. He plucks the giraffe out of midair. “It’s just taking a lot longer than I expected.”

  “You need to sit down,” Felix says, patting the bed again. “Maybe the doctor should order you some bed rest.”

  Kade barks a laugh. “Me, bed rest?”

  “Why don’t you get pregnant next time?” Felix says, his eyes twinkling. “You’d be so calm about it.”

  “Maybe. Guess I’d try getting pregnant if I could.” Kade frowns. They’ve been here for hours. “I don’t get how you’re so calm now.”

  “It’s built into me, I guess.” Felix laughs, shrugging. “Come on, quit stomping around and kiss me.”

  Which doesn’t sound bad at all. So Kade steps over, settling into the bed next to Felix, pulling his omega into his arms.

  At ten hours, Kade’s ready to snipe at something. Break a wall. Felix pants through a contraction, his fingers squeezing the life out of Kade’s hand.

  “Breathe,” Kade says, sucking in lungfuls of air to demonstrate.

  “Tell me to breathe one more time, Kade Brentwood, and I’ll wring your neck,” Felix wheezes, flipping him off. “Fucking hurts.”

  Kade winces. “It should help, right?”

  “No!” Felix shudders again, his face paling. Kade holds his hand, and Felix squeezes the life out of Kade’s knuckles. A minute later, Felix relaxes, his entire body going limp. He flops back onto his pillow, sucking in breath after breath.

  Kade brushes the hair out of his face, dabbing the sweat off his forehead with a towel. “Sorry.”

  “You better be,” Felix mutters, his skin damp with sweat. “Didn’t think it would hurt this much.”

  Kade winces. He didn’t mean to put Felix through this. “Sorry. Does that mean we’re having just the one child?”

  “Maybe. Quite possibly. We’ll see if I’ve murdered you by the end of this.”

  Kade chuckles. “Right.”

  Felix tips his head back into the pillow, his eyes fluttering shut. “Gods, I’m so done with the pregnancy.”

  “Ready to meet the baby?” Kade leans in, smiling when Felix curls his fingers into his palm.

  “Yes! I’m sure she’ll be lovable.” Felix smiles.

  “She? We don’t even know that yet.”

  “It’s just a feeling I’ve been getting lately,” Felix says, pulling Kade closer. “I still love you, by the way. I’m not killing you.”

  Kade smiles, relieved. “That works,” he says. “If you love me but kill me, at least I found out first.”

  Felix laughs, punching his arm.

  At fourteen hours, Felix pants on the bed, his hair damp with sweat, and the midwife slides her fingers out of Felix’s hole. Kade bites down a low growl. If she were anything but omega, he’d be itching to yank her away. Felix is his to touch.

  “Almost fully dilated,” the midwife says, washing her hands before bustling around the room

  “You look like you’re about to murder something,” Felix pants, tapping on Kade’s wrist.

  “Want to bring you home,” Kade says, possessiveness clawing up his throat. “You and the baby. Then you’re all mine.” Enough of strangers putting their hands on you.

  Felix laughs weakly, and Kade wipes his forehead down with a damp towel. “That works. I’d love that.”

  But they’re still waiting, and as the seconds tick by and nothing else changes, Kade sighs. He rubs their wrists together, then trails his scent all over Felix. “Mine,” he says again, scenting his bondmate.

  Felix looks up at him, smiling. “All yours.”

  “Push,” the midwife says. Kade echoes after her.

  “C’mon, push,” he says, stroking Felix’s hair off his face. “Just a bit more. Squeeze.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” Felix snarls, arching off the bed, his teeth bared. Sweat beads across his forehead. Kade holds his hand tight, wishing he could take all of that pain away. “Argh!”

  “Almost there,” the midwife says. “You’ve got the head out now. And the shoulders. Just a little more!”

  “Keep pushing,” Kade says, kissing his forehead. Felix’s grip squeezes like a vice around his fingers, and he pants, his pupils constricted, his eyes shadowy green in the dimmed lights.

  “I told you, Kade,” Felix hisses through gritted teeth. “So help me, but if you tell me to push one more time, I’m going to fucking murder you.”

  “Push,” Kade says, a tendril of adrenaline shooting up his spine. He knows his omega, kno
ws Felix’s boundaries, and this will rile Felix up just enough...

  Felix growls, his eyes flashing, his teeth bared. He heaves again, his entire body shaking with the effort, and Kade knows his omega will kill him in another life, if they were ever on opposite sides of a fight. But that life isn’t theirs, and Felix is his bondmate, his love.

  “It’s a girl,” the midwife says. Kade turns, staring at the mess of red and wet and baby. “She’s beautiful.”

  Felix drops back onto the pillows with a whine, gulping deep breaths, his eyelids slipping half-shut. “Oh, gods, that was difficult.”

  But he smiles, his cheeks flushed. As the midwife wipes the baby down and hands her over to Felix, Kade leans in. He wants to memorize this: Felix with his golden hair damp, his eyes bright as he gazes down upon their child. The baby is tiny in his arms, her skin flushed, her eyes still shut, a dusting of hair on her head.

  “You did great,” Kade says, his throat suddenly tight. Felix looks up at him, tears in his eyes. So he leans in, kissing Felix softly on his forehead. “Proud of you.”

  “You did great too,” Felix murmurs, sagging into the pillows, their baby cradled safely against his chest. “I’m exhausted.”

  “Rest,” Kade says. He reaches down carefully, touching their daughter’s tiny curled fingers. She wraps them around his own. As though she knows who he is, and she’s saying, Hi, Dad.

  Five years ago, Kade wouldn’t have dreamed of this. Felix had left, and Kade had thought he’d lost his bondmate for good. But Felix is back. They’ve marked each other again. They have a home together, and a beautiful daughter that Kade will protect. And they will get married soon, when Felix is ready.

  “Love you,” he murmurs in Felix’s ear, kissing his temple.

  “Love you too,” Felix whispers, his eyelids fluttering shut.

  Kade cradles his family close, thankful for everything in his life.

  Epilogue