The Hidden Omega

by Wilder, J. L.

  “Of course, I wasn’t disappointed.”

  “You can’t say ‘of course’ like I should have known,” she says. “It seemed like you were. I didn’t know what to think, Bruno.”

  I shake my head. “At Harlan’s, when you offered yourself in exchange for Robbie...I thought I was going to lose you, Lane.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You were turning yourself over to him. I couldn’t make you stay with us, and the things he would have done to you...it killed me just to think about it.” I sigh deeply. “Nothing’s ever hurt me like that. And nothing’s ever made me doubt myself like that, because I realized that I’d protect you over Robbie. That I’d sacrifice him to keep you safe.”

  She’s quiet.

  I’m afraid to look up at her, but after a few moments I force myself to meet her eyes. There’s no judgment there. There’s nothing but empathy and understanding.

  “I feel the same way,” she says quietly.

  “But you’re not the alpha,” I tell her. “It isn’t your responsibility to keep the whole pack safe.”

  “No,” she agrees, “it isn’t. Of course, you felt conflicted.”

  I nod. “I was never angry at you, Lane. I was angry at myself for failing as an alpha.”

  “Alphas are allowed to fall in love,” she says quietly.

  “Are we? I don’t know. If it gets in the way of protecting the pack...”

  “That’s why I took the choice out of your hands,” she says. “I knew you couldn’t do what needed to be done in that moment. If Harlan thought he had me, he would stand down, and that would free you — or Clay, or Mike — up to attack.” She reaches out and takes my hand. “I knew you’d rescue me, Bruno. It was a risk, but only a small one. I knew you’d never leave me with him.”

  “I wasn’t going to,” I say quietly. “Once the others were out, I would have stayed and fought.”

  “So, you see? You wouldn’t have lost me. But you could never have willingly put me in Harlan’s hands, even temporarily. I had to do it for you.” She rests a hand on her belly. “You should have realized I would never risk the babies. If I hadn’t felt confident you could overpower him, I wouldn’t have taken the chance.”

  “I couldn’t understand how you could put them at risk,” I admit.

  She shakes her head. “I never would. They’re your children, Bruno, and you’re everything to me. You, Mike, Clay...the whole pack. These babies are our future. I love Robbie, you know I do, but if it came down to him or the babies...” she shivers a little. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  I understand. It’s hard confronting that darkness within yourself, having to acknowledge the things you’re capable of. It’s hard to admit that any loss is acceptable. But at the end of the day, there are things I can’t bear to lose, and Lane is one of them. It helps to know that she understands that feeling.

  She holds out her hand to me. “Come over here,” she says.

  I hesitate. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve missed you so much.”

  It’s all the invitation I need. I take her hand and join her on the bed. She presses close to me and I wrap my arm around her. She’s nearly doubled in size since her pregnancy began, and I think how hard it must be carrying so much extra weight. Carrying your family.

  Maybe, just a little bit, I can understand how she’s feeling too.

  Her hand rubs slow circles on my chest before sliding down to my thigh. She grazes it lightly with her fingernails, slowly moving inward, and I can feel my body start to respond. It’s been so long. “Lane...”

  “I need you, Bruno,” she says.

  “I’ve been cruel to you,” I say. “I’ve ignored you when you needed me most.”

  “I forgive you,” she says. “And when I need you most is right now.”

  It’s all I need to hear. I pull her to me, my mouth meeting hers. It’s so familiar and so easy that for a moment I could almost forget the time we spent apart. I don’t know how I kept my hands off this woman for six months, especially as I watched her grow more beautiful, more radiant, with every passing day. No one has ever been as majestic as Lane is now. Far from that frightened girl I rescued from a prostitution ring, she’s now a queen; her cheeks full of color, her body full and ripe. I cup her breasts in my hands and they overflow, and she gasps at the sensation. She’s even more sensitive than she used to be. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

  “I need you,” she moans. “Bruno, God, I’ve needed you for so long. Every time I see you —every time you’re near me — I feel like I’m about to explode. It’s been torture.”

  I want to apologize, to beg her forgiveness, to let her know that I’ll never hurt her that way again. But there’s no time now. It’s as if by kissing her I’ve started running down a steep hill, and there’s nothing to do now but surrender to the gathering speed and let gravity do its work. I slip the nightdress up over her head and find her completely naked beneath it. I want to stop and look, to take in the work of art that is her pregnant body, but I can’t keep my hands off her.

  She pushes me gently onto my back and straddles my hips, easing down on me slowly, her eyes closing in ecstasy. It feels like coming home. I can’t believe how much I’ve missed her and how relieved I am to be back with her now. It’s so overwhelming that it almost overshadows the physical sensations building in my body. But as I look at her, my eyes drinking in every aspect of her new form, I feel myself throb inside her.

  She moans. “You’re killing me.”

  “I’m not hurting you really, am I?” I’ve never been with a pregnant woman before. And she’s extremely pregnant. I’m hesitant to do anything at all, for fear of harming her. Fortunately, she’s in control of our rhythm right now, grinding slowly on top of me. A part of me wants to grab her, roll us over, and take command, but there’s something delicious about giving it up and allowing someone else to be in charge. It’s such a rare feeling for me, as an alpha.

  Lane rolls her hips again, making me gasp. “Not at all,” she says. “The opposite of hurting. I’ve wanted you for so long. I’ve been dying every day.”

  The two of us take our time together, relearning each other. At times we move quickly, our bodies desperate for each other and for release. Sometimes we hardly move at all, staring into each other’s eyes and just enjoying the sensation of being linked together once more. More than once, we think we’re finished and collapse onto the mattress in blissful exhaustion only for our hands to reach out and find each other again.

  We’re joined as the sun comes up, moving together to the rhythm of our synchronized breathing, our hands clasped, our foreheads pressed together. Occasionally one of us leans in for a kiss or pulls back to look in the other’s eyes.

  At some point, as the morning light is painting her skin in shades of pink and orange, we finish, finally, together and wrapped in each other’s arms, shaking and exhausted. She’s radiant, her skin shiny with sweat and glistening in the sunlight. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.

  I pull the sheet up over us as her breathing deepens, knowing that she’s falling asleep. I’m sure I won’t be able to. My mind is overflowing with relief at having her back, gratitude to her for forgiving my behavior, and anticipation for our future. But exhaustion wins out. As soon as my head hits the pillow, my eyes are slipping closed and my mind is going quiet. As the world slips away and I fall into dreams, my last thought is for my children and the world they’ll be joining when they’re born. As far as I’m concerned, it couldn’t be a happier one.

  Chapter Thirty

  LANE

  I’ve been in labor for what feels like half my life.

  “How long has it been?” I grunt as I stagger across the room, clinging to Clay’s arm. Walking was Greg’s idea. He said it might help to get out of bed and move around. I can’t tell if it’s helping, but if it is, it certainly isn’t helping much. I’m irrationally angry at Greg for not being more helpful.r />
  Mike watches with concern. “Are you sure you want to know?” he asks. “You always get upset when I tell you.”

  “Answer the damn question, Mike!”

  “Okay, okay,” he says. “It’s been two hours and forty minutes.”

  “I thought omegas were supposed to have easy births!”

  “This is easy,” Mike says. “Do you know how long betas are in labor? Over a day, sometimes.”

  “God. Shut up.”

  “Do you want some more ice chips?” Clay asks solicitously.

  “I want Bruno. Where’s Bruno?” I feel bad for snapping at the others, but sometimes Bruno is the only one who can make me feel at ease. I don’t know if it’s just because he’s my alpha or if he and I genuinely share a deeper connection than I do with the others, but it doesn’t really matter what the source of the feeling is. I want him here.

  “He’ll be here soon,” Zoe says. She’s standing by the door looking uncomfortable, and I can tell she doesn’t really want to be here for this, but she’s making an effort to support me through my delivery, and I appreciate it. “He’s on the phone.”

  “On the phone? With who?”

  “Emily,” Mike says. “She’s been through births before.”

  Another contraction hits me and I stop in my tracks, doubled over in pain. Clay holds me up and rubs my back. “Breathe,” he says. “Remember how we practiced?”

  I try, huffing out short breaths rhythmically the way the videos we found online demonstrated, squeezing Clay’s hand to distract from the pain, and soon enough it passes. “Bed,” I say, leaning on him weakly.

  He nods, scoops me up in his arms, and carries me to the bed, laying me gently against the pillows.

  “I can’t believe you can pick me up like this.” I rest my hands on my belly. At nine months, I’m so big that I can’t even see my toes. “I’m a house.”

  “It’s just you and a few babies,” Clay says with a smile. “None of you weigh anything much.”

  “How many, do you think?”

  “Hmm.” He places his hands on my stomach, measuring out the space an infant might occupy. “One, two three...Definitely at least three.”

  “It’s got to be more than three.” It feels like a dozen. I can feel them all moving sometimes, a forest of limbs stretching inside me. It’s crazy. It’s amazing. “I don’t know where we’re going to put them all — ow!”

  “Those contractions are getting close together.” Gary’s voice is slightly anxious. “I think it might be almost time.” Gary’s been through births before too, of course. He was there when his children were born. So why does Bruno need to call Emily. I need Bruno. How can he not be here for me while I’m going through this?

  No sooner has the thought crossed my mind than he bursts into the room. He’s at my side in an instant, holding my hand, stroking my sweaty hair back from my forehead. “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “Where have you been?”

  “I’m sorry.” He kisses my forehead. “I was giving Emily my credit card number to check in to a hotel in Toronto. She ran away from Harlan.”

  “You’re kidding.” Zoe punches her fist into her palm. “That’s awesome. Go Emily.”

  I feel a wash of relief at the knowledge that the kind woman I met in Montreal is safe. “Will she be able to keep away from him?”

  “She should be fine,” Bruno says. “She’s too old to have children, and she isn’t a fighter. I doubt the pack will pursue her. They’ll probably just let her go.”

  Another contraction takes me and I bury my face in Bruno’s shoulder, my thoughts going hazy. Greg is talking, but I’m no longer following what he’s saying. The pain is bigger than me now, a bright spot that fills me and radiates outward, obscuring everything but Bruno’s touch. I try to use the feel of his hands on my body and his lips on my forehead to keep me grounded, but it isn’t working. I’m afraid I’m going to pass out.

  I can’t let that happen. I can’t miss the birth of my children.

  Huge hands are sliding under my shoulders, lifting me up. “It’s time to push, Lane,” Clay says, propping me against his chest. Bruno grips my shoulder and my hand. Mike appears at my other side, looking me in the eye, nodding as if to say I know you can do this. I grit my teeth and bear down.

  A cry splits the air. “It’s a boy!” Greg announces. I get just a glimpse of my baby — squalling and red and angry — before Greg passes him off to Robbie to clean up. “You’re not done yet,” he calls up to me.

  Everything seems to move very quickly after that. I focus on my breathing, guided by Mike, who watched the videos with me in preparation for today and is now equipped to coach me when I forget what I should be doing. The pain becomes distant, a hazy thing that’s happening far away from the more important aspects of my world. All I can hear are the cries of babies I long to hold and comfort, and as soon as I finish this work, I know they’ll be brought to me and placed in my arms. I’m on a mission now. I’m determined.

  When it’s over, I lie back in the arms of my mates and Zoe brings me a clean blanket and a glass of water. “How many?” I ask. It felt endless during the birth. I lost count of them.

  “Ten,” Robbie calls. “Six girls and four boys.”

  “Ten,” Bruno repeats, sounding awestruck, and I’m filled with a sudden fierce pride. Ten babies. I did that. I carried them. I gave birth to them. I more than doubled our pack’s numbers.

  “Are they okay?” I ask.

  “They’re small,” Zoe reports. “Really small. I’d worry about human babies this size. But they’re bears. Bears are tough. They’re going to be fine. And they’re some shouters.” She chuckles. “I think they want to meet their mom.”

  “Yes.” I hold out my arms. I want to hold all of them, all of them at once, and the knowledge that I can’t physically pains me. Fortunately, I’m not alone. Each of my mates takes a baby in each arm, and Zoe hands me two. Greg cradles one of the others, and Robbie the last.

  I look down at my children, a boy and a girl. Both are dark haired. “Whose do you suppose they are?” I ask the room at large.

  “The girl could be Mike’s,” Clay says. “Look at the face shape. That isn’t yours, and it’s definitely not mine or Bruno’s.”

  I nod. I can see it. Mike gazes at her with interest. I know all of my pack will love all of these new additions, but there will be something special for the fathers of each child in watching them grow. I wonder what she’ll look like when she’s a year old, or five years old? What will it be like to have a little person who’s half Mike and half me running around?

  “This one is Clay’s,” Robbie says, angling the little boy in his arms to show us. I laugh. He’s unquestionably right. The baby has blond hair and Clay’s narrow nose. He looks exactly like his father.

  I return my gaze to the boy in my arms. Although he looks a bit like his sister, who’s sleeping beside him, I don’t believe this baby is another one of Mike’s. His features are different. I don’t voice the thought, but I’m sure as I look at him that this one is Bruno’s son. What will his future hold? Is it possible that the tiny baby in my arms will someday be the alpha of this pack?

  It’s impossible to contemplate right now. They’re so very small, small enough that I could almost hold them up with one hand. “Are you sure they’re okay?” I ask everyone, looking around. “They’re so little. Newborn babies aren’t this little.”

  “You’ve never seen shifter babies,” Bruno says. “This is normal when you’re born as part of a litter. Zoe is right. They have strength and resilience that human babies don’t have. I know they look helpless, but they’re able to survive on their own, and in a few weeks, they’ll have grown so much you won’t believe it. They just need food and love.”

  “We’ve got plenty of that,” I murmur, cradling the babies in my arms to my chest. “More than enough.”

  LATER, WHEN THE BABIES are all tucked in their bassinets, I lie against Bruno’s chest, drowsy and happy. />
  “You should sleep,” he says quietly, his fingers combing gently through my hair. “You should sleep while they are. One of them will be awake soon enough, and they’re likely to start crying and wake all the others, and then who knows when you’ll get the chance to rest.”

  “Mmm.” I know he’s right, but my heart is so full that it’s actually keeping me from drifting off. “I love you,” I say, feeling the need to release a little of my pent-up emotion.

  He chuckles. “I love you too.”

  “We should name them, right? They need names.”

  “Yeah, but that sounds like a longer project.” He kisses the crown of my head. “It’s the middle of the night, Lane. Everyone’s sleeping. We’ll name the babies in the morning.”

  “What if we get them mixed up once we’ve named them?”

  “We’ll write their names on their socks. Would you go to sleep, please?”

  “I can’t sleep,” I tell him. “I’m too excited.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Everything’s perfect now. I just can’t believe it.”

  “What do you mean?” he asks.

  “I mean...I spent all my life with people who didn’t want me,” I say. “The parents who raised me regretted ever adopting me, and they didn’t keep that a secret. My sister thought of me as an annoyance and nothing more. When I ran away from home, I expected to find freedom, but I never expected that I would stumble into a real family. But you gave me that.” I arch my neck so I can look up at him. “You invited me into your pack, and it was the first time I ever really belonged somewhere.”

  He places his hand over my tattoo. “You’re a Hell’s Bear to the core. You put your pack before anything else, and you’ll go to the mat for it. You showed that when you saved Robbie from Harlan.”

  “And you showed it when you saved me,” I say. “I never knew what it felt like to have someone who was just like me inside until I met you. Now I know this pack is where I belong.”