Page 46 of His Prodigal Alpha

Sure enough, when I stopped snuggling and actually looked at Rex, it seemed that he was practically vibrating with anxious energy. It was cute, and the urge to keep bantering with my friend evaporated.

Instead, I turned to Eric. “Are you ready for us, doc?”

Chapter Twelve – Rex

Feeling our son moving around inside Damon was one thing, but seeing the little guy on the ultrasound screen was something else entirely.

I don’t know why, but seeing the distinctly shaped small person —with his large head, curved spine, and perfectly formed fingers and toes— moving around on the two-dimensional, black and white screen made the whole situation feel even more real.

That was an honest-to-God baby.

That wasmybaby.

“Little guy’s measuring on track for thirty-four weeks gestation,” Eric told us cheerfully, bending over a notepad to jot the information down. “Well, that’s sticking with the timeline and the theory that omega pregnancies run for roughly the same forty weeks as humans or betas. It held true for Ollie, and it seems to be the same for you.”

As I understood it, Eric was documenting the similarities and differences between Ollie and Damon’s experiences at thesame stages, and theorizing on whether the differences were due to the nature of multiples vs singular fetuses, or because the men were different breeds of shifter.

Eric spun back around on his wheeled stool, bringing the transducer wand back to the lubricated, exposed skin of Damon’s belly. The smile he shot me was warm and understanding. “Want to hear the heartbeat?”

Beck had already warned me that this was Eric’s favorite part, but I was keen to hear it anyway. I nodded with enthusiasm and leaned forward in my chair, which was situated next to the examination table. I’d been unable to tear my gaze from the screen across from me for very long, and I’d been fixated on the flickering in the middle of our son’s chest, bewildered by just how fast his tiny heart seemed to be beating.

“Yes, please,” I answered redundantly, because Eric was already reaching with his left hand to flip a switch on the complicated machine attached to the transducer wand.

A fastwhoosh-whoosh-whooshcame through the speakers, the sound in time with the fluttering on the screen.

Holy shit. That’s his heartbeat.

My own heart picked up pace, seemingly thudding in tandem with the baby’s. I was glad I was sitting down. Emotion lodged itself in my throat and my chest felt tight. Hell, tears even welled in my eyes. I blinked rapidly against them.

“Wow,” I croaked, startling as Damon threaded our fingers together.

“Roughly six weeks to go, and he’ll be here,” Eric continued blithely, oblivious to just how overwhelmed I was.

Six weeks.

That sounded like no time at all.

“You can still run,” Damon teased, andthatgot me to tear my blurred gaze away from the screen. When I looked at him, he lifted the corner of his lips. “I see you panicking, babe.”

Babe.

Huh.

While I used a number of endearments on Damon, it was new to hear him flipping the table and using one on me. New, but welcome. So damn welcome. I loved his fire and sass, but those moments where he dropped the façade and let me see the softer, vulnerable side he kept hidden kept me coming back for more.

We were still taking things slowly, but he had started dropping his walls and letting me in. I cherished that trust more than I could say.

My panic began to recede and breathing came easier again. I shook my head and smirked, “I’ve told you, kitten; I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Damon’s expression softened and became warmer as he squeezed my hand. “You always get more country when you’re emotional,” he murmured. “It’s really cute.”

“You only get to call me cute ’cause you’re carryin’ our kid,” I pretended to grumble. Meanwhile, on the inside, I was doing a happy dance over his assessment.

He thought I was cute.

“Newsflash,” he snarked back playfully, unable to stop himself from smiling, “I thought you were cute the night we met, too.”

“Liar. You thought I was hot as sin.”

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