Page 102 of His Sassy Omega
Finn looked up, his blue eyes glassy, just as the baby – our child – let out the loudest, most pissed-off wail I’d ever heard. I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until I heard the cry.
Then my brother did something I rarely saw on him. He smiled. A true, honest to Goddess, full-on smile.
I blinked, because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually seen Finn smile, and Quinn whispered, “Tell me my baby is okay?”
Finn cleared his throat, then looked down at the baby screaming in his arms. “She’s perfect.”
What?She?What?
“It’s a girl,” Finn said, awestruck, clearing a lump from his throat. “She’s a girl. A perfect little girl.”
The nurse that had wiped Quinn’s face was holding a pair of scissors out to me. “Do you want to cut the cord, Alpha?”
I…I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I was struck dumb. I, we, had a daughter.
The first Sinclair daughter born in four hundred years.
I moved to the end of the bed and snipped where she instructed. She wrapped my daughter in a blanket, then handed her to me. “You’ll need to scent her, and then we’ll get her cleaned up, and measurements taken.”
I looked down atmy daughterin awe. I barely felt the tears streaming down my face. She was red, and wrinkly, pissed off and letting the world know it. She was covered in blood, and I didn’t even want to know what else. She was the single most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life.
I took her over to Quinn and laid her in his arms. He nuzzled her, then threw me an angry, accusatory glare.
“You told me we weren’t having a girl! We don’t have anything for a girl! We don’t even have a girl’s name picked out! We can’t keep calling her Thing One! You dick!”
I chuckled at his outrage. Only my mate would be pissed off at me over this turn of events.
“On the bright side, my mom is going to love you forever, you know,” I told him, nuzzling our daughter, mingling our scents. “You are now going to be the favorite son. Forever.”
The baby was quiet now, her anger at being born momentarily forgotten, as she blinked at us, her blue eyes identical to mine. She wrapped one tiny finger around my bigger one, her grip strong. Her hair was a dark reddish-brown, like her Daddy’s, and she had a headful of it sticking up all over her head, but her facial features were pure Sinclair.
The same nurse came over – and I finally glanced at her name tag, Chelsea – and told us, “I’ll need to take her now, but she’ll be back as soon as possible.”
She scooped the baby up, reminding Quinn. “And you’re not done just yet.”
Quinn’s eyes tracked her with our child, as did mine. I had this unholy urge to not let her out of my sight, but we had another baby to deliver.
Suddenly, alarms started blaring in the room, startling me. I whipped my gaze to Finn, who was still between my mate’s spread legs.
“Quinn, how you feeling?” Finn’s voice was still calm, but I could hear something in it. Something I didn’t like. Something was wrong. I glanced at Quinn. His face had lost all its color, his eyes were rolling back in his head.
“What’s happening?” I demanded as the nurse tried to rouse my mate.
“Call the O.R.” Finn barked, breaking down the bed. “Tell them we are coming now. Placenta detachment, fetus and omega in distress.”
“Finn!” I could hear the panic in my voice, as a red stain of blood spread from underneath Quinn. And spread, and spread. It was our bed all over, so many months ago, only ten times worse. I could smell his blood, so much blood, and the alarms were blaring in my ears.
They were already moving the bed towards the door at a speed that frightened me, even more than the blaring alarms and blood did. I started to follow, stopped, torn, between my mate and our daughter.
“Stay, Lachlan,” Finn ordered. “I’ll send someone to update you, as soon as I can.”
“Finn!” I yelled, and I saw my brother look back, without stopping. “You save him. If it comes down to a choice, you choose Quinn!”
Then they were gone.
I was standing there, in the middle of our labor room, staring at red drops splattered on the clean, white floor.
Quinn’s blood.
