Page 60 of Rescued By the Alien Bull Rider

“I think it’s working,” I breathed. “I can’t feel…”

Hold on. I did feel something… Not a contraction, but...

“Zohro!” I screamed. Something hot gushed, followed by something small and solid pushing downwards. Oh, God help me. I was bleeding.

Just like my mother had.

Zohro was at my side in an instant. He rolled me onto my back, wordlessly spreading my legs.

“It is amniotic fluid,” he told me. “And…Blast.”

I couldn’t feel the pressure of his hand as he touched me between my thighs.

“And her foot.”

No!

With rapid but precise movements, Zohro sprayed my bare belly down with some kind of surgical disinfectant. “Are you feeling this?” he asked.

“No. Nothing!” I couldn’t even feel Baby Girl trying to step her way out into the world, out of me.

“Good,” he growled. He lifted a scalpel. “Because it’s time to get her out.”

It all came crashing down on me then. The reality of the scene. The gravity of it. The fear I hadn’t felt about the surgery came pouring into me like poison.

“Don’t let me die, Zohro,” I begged, the tears finally spilling free. “I don’t want her to grow up without her mom. I don’t want her to be like me!”

Zohro’s eyes grew so white that they were all I could see, brighter even than the surgical bulbs above us. For the first timesince my contractions had begun, dark emotion sawed at his face, marring the sculpted mask of professional control.

“I am the greatest living surgeon both in this world and the one I left behind,” he snarled. “I have never,neverhad a patient die upon my table, and I do not plan to start now with my own wife!”

My own wife.

It was the first time I’d ever heard him call me that.

“I will get you through this, Jolene. Both of you. I vow it on my life, and the name of my own father.” He brought his scalpel closer. As he placed it against my skin, he vehemently added, “And youshouldwant her to be like you. Because that would rank her among the strongest women that I know.”

Good God, I hoped so. Hoped that I was strong.

Prayed for it as Zohro pressed the scalpel down.

25

ZOHRO

All the videos and textbooks Tasha had sent me had not led me astray. I was not stalled by ignorance as I sliced through tissue I’d never once encountered in a surgical setting until now. I was unused to working without a team of surgical assistants, but the robot I’d had delivered was doing a competent job, suctioning blood as necessary and clamping where directed.

I did not look at Jolene’s face, though I longed to. I did not want to break focus. Did not want to take my eyes from my work even for a moment.

But I listened for her. Listened to her breathing as she lay still and otherwise silent on the table.

All in all, it did not take long to get Baby Girl out. I pulled her from Jolene’s body, easily retrieving her tiny foot from the birthing canal in the process. I held up the child for inspection as the robot worked to stall any bleeding in the background. She had good colour, thank the empire. A little mop of dark hair that I knew would be red when it was dry. And a set of lungs that a shuldu would be proud of as she screwed up her face and squalled.

Perfection.

“Zohro?” Jolene was watching us. I brought her daughter to her with something close to triumphant pride. But I was not proud of myself, or my own work.

I was proud of her.

---