Page 114 of Breeding Clinic

I bundle everything onto the kitchen table and clean the scissors. Then I bring Kat a glass of water and remind her to stay hydrated.

When Liam returns, his grim expression tells me there’s no helicopter coming. Not with the sun setting outside and the thick trees and deep snow. There’s no good place for them to land. It was a longshot to begin with.

Matthew comes upstairs from the basement where the laundry machines are. “Any update?”

It’s been an hour or two. Time to check her again. I wash up at the kitchen sink, scrubbing well, then go to Kat.

I kneel at her feet. “I need to check you,meu docinho.” I rub her massage oil over my hands and feel inside. Seven centimeters and thinner. She’ll be in active labor soon. My hand comes away streaked with pink. The towel under her has a damp spot. She’s still leaking fluid. I wipe my hand clean and fold the towel over itself before she can notice.

“Good job,” I tell her.

Liam’s phone rings and we all startle. I kiss her knee and follow him and Matthew outside.

Fuck, it’s cold.I tuck my arms into my armpits and wait impatiently while he talks to whoever called him.

“I see. Thank you. Thank you so much. No, it’s fine. I’ll meet you there and guide them.”

Meet them? How the hell is Liam going to meet them?

He hangs up and puts his phone away. “They got a plow and he’s started working on the road, but the GPS is giving them weird directions. They don’t see where the turnoff is for this private road.”

We got lost when we first arrived too. The sign is small and easy to miss. If it’s buried under a snow laden branch in the dark, they’ll never find it.

“I’m going to meet them out there and lead them up to the house,” Liam says.

“That’s dangerous,” Matthew says. “It’s getting dark. It’ll be pitch black soon, and you don’t know the roads that well. Your truck will never make it, even with chains on the tires.”

But Liam won’t be swayed. “It’s our best shot and you both know it. We need to do something. Now.”

“How?” I ask.

He is full of determination when he says, “I’m taking the snowmobile.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

LIAM

The wind is biting cold,and deep shadows make the forest ominous. Snow drifts grow by the minute as a blanket of fresh snow settles over everything. The noise of the snowmobile shatters the quiet. Its weak amber lights make the snow banks glitter.

The wind blows and snowflakes land on me, melting into my skin and parka. I blink, wishing I had thought to grab ski goggles. And a snow jacket meant for adventuring, not a parka meant for commuting. Any of the ski gear, really. But I was too panicked, too focused on getting my mate help to take the moment to think.

An overloaded tree branch drops a clump of snow on me as I drive past. I flinch as some of it finds its way into my collar. Shivering, I tighten my grip on the throttle and keep going. There’s no turning back. No giving into failure. My omega needs me, and I’m her alpha. It’s my fault we’re in this mess. My insistence that family tradition had to be upheld. My agreement that we could stay an extra day. That staying up in this mountain would be fine, so close to her due date.

If Kat and the baby get hurt because ofthis, I will never forgive myself. If they die…No. I can’t think like that.I won’t let it happen. Everyone is depending on me, and failure isn’t an option. Not when we’re so close to having everything we’ve always wanted.

Thick drifts of snow make the snowmobile bob and dip in a stomach churning wave of motion. Navigating through the trees makes the trek difficult. I lost the road at some point, my brief familiarity with the area growing fainter by the moment. The trees are too close together for me to be on the road.

Nothing looks like I remember. Not with over two feet of snow obscuring everything. The thick white snow clinging to the evergreen trees would be pretty if I weren’t terrified for all of us right now.

A jutting fallen branch and snow-covered rock make me dodge at the last minute and the snowmobile catches on a drift of snow. Rocking the machine and revving the engine does nothing. I’m stuck.

Fuck. Not again.I stand, thighs burning, and lean every which way until finally the machine gets unstuck and lurches into motion. Snow churns up as the machine’s skis carve a path. It creeps its way into the edge of my boots as I drive the snowmobile to the right and maneuver around the bend in the drift.

Bringing the machine to a stop, I hold the camping lantern up and peer into the dark. The ground slopes down on my left, the snow pristine. Behind me, my path makes lines in the snow.

I need to find the road again. Try to navigate down the mountain without driving off it. The wind picks up, blowing snow around. I brush the worst of it off the machine so it’ll stop dumping more of it into my lap.

Maybe I should turn around. Backtrack and follow my trail. How long has it been since I left the road? It can’t be more than a few minutes, but when everything looks the same, it’s impossible to tell. The forest is too dense and the neighbors aretoo far away to look for house lights in the distance to guide me.

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