Page 36 of Feral: Part Two
I wake up drenched in sweat, my body feeling wrong in ways I can't immediately process. The shift into fox form happened while I was unconscious, leaving me disoriented and struggling to understand why everything feels so different.
My white fur is matted against my body, soaked through with perspiration. Every breath feels labored, like I'm breathing through water instead of air; the familiar scents of the pool house completely absent.
Delirious, I struggle to get to my feet as I try to orient myself. That's when the reality hits me—I'm not in the pool house. I'm not even close to the pool house.
Brush surrounds me in ways that speak of deep wilderness rather than the carefully maintained grounds of Wolfscorge. Branches scrape against my fur as I try to move, their rough bark catching and pulling at my coat. The scents here are all wrong—pine and earth and wild animals, but nothing that carries even a trace of my pack.
A sharp pain tears through my abdomen, a whine escaping my throat before I can suppress it. The sound is high and desperate, carrying a note of panic that I've never heard from myself before. These aren't the gentle contractions I felt earlier. These are the real thing and they’re impossible to ignore.
I have to find a place to give birth, terror flooding my chest as I realize I have absolutely no idea where I am. The landscape around me is completely foreign, nothing like the familiarcorners and hidden spaces of the compound where I've spent the last few weeks learning to feel secure.
Freaking out, I start moving in what I hope is the right direction, but every path looks the same in the dim light filtering through the canopy of branches and leaves above. My nose works frantically, sniffing for anything that feels familiar.
But there's nothing. Just the overwhelming scents of wilderness and my own fear-sweat and the growing intensity of labor that's progressing whether I'm ready or not.
A chill runs down my spine as a sharp pain runs through me, my body unable to regulate temperature properly as it focuses all its energy on the task of bringing new life into the world. Clammy and confused, I stumble through more underbrush that seems designed to catch and hold me, every step requiring enormous effort.
The last thing I remember was curling up in my carefully constructed den in the pool house, surrounded by the familiar scents of safety and pack. Did I sleepwalk? Is this some kind of feral instinct I didn't know I possessed, driving me to seek out a more "natural" birthing environment?
The questions spiral through my mind as I continue searching for shelter, but thinking requires energy I don't have to spare. Another contraction hits, stronger than the last, and I have to stop moving entirely as my body contracts around the lives trying to make their way into the world.
When it passes, I'm left panting and shaking, the reality of my situation becoming impossible to deny. I push forward with desperate determination, my fox senses straining for any sign of safety or shelter. I spot a small ledge jutting out from a rocky outcropping, barely enough space for my fox body to fit underneath, but it offers some protection from the elements and potential threats.
I curl up under the ledge, my body automatically arranging itself in the position that feels most natural for giving birth. The stone above me provides psychological comfort even if it can't offer much physical protection. At least here, nothing can approach from above.
Another contraction hits, and this time I can't hold back the whine of pain and fear that tears from my throat.
Whining, I start murmuring for help in whatever voice I can manage in this form. The sounds are barely coherent, more instinct than language, but they carry all my desperation and fear and love for the Alpha who’s told me he’s mine.
Kael
Walking between the pool house and our Omegas’ main den has been nerve-racking, mostly because I’m not allowed in either room. I keep trying to calm my instincts and my rage at being left outside and unable to hold any precious bundles when they’re glaring at my face, but it’s getting harder with every moment. Malik seems to be suffering as well and the one time he tried to check on Slate, the poor Omega twisted around and buried himself under a blanket.
He's close now, but I’m trying not to overwhelm him. I check the clock above the front door, making a mental note. I’ve been stepping into the pool house every thirty minutes, reacting to the pull in my chest, but then he hisses before curling back up into a little ball again. As adorable as that is, I don’t want to get bit.
Again.
Blowing out a heavy breath, I slide off the couch and move toward our Omegas’ main den. Five minutes there and then I’ll head toward the pool house. Malik catches my eye and follows me with a tray of food, gesturing back to the kitchen table as he falls in line beside me. “There’s something for Slate. Seeing that you got bit, I’ll leave you to try to feed him.”
I chuckle, both of us finding Preston shifted back to his human form and curled up in Thane's lap like the most precious thing in the world. The sight of them together—my cousin holding our Omega and the two tiny fox pups—is everything.
"Thank fuck you're here, I need to pee," Thane says the moment he sees me, relief clear in his voice.
I laugh at his bluntness. "When did he shift back?”
“Twenty minutes ago? The pups finished eating, so I guess it was time. Nathan mentioned that they’ll kind of exist in either state that feels most comfortable for the next few weeks.” Thane runs his fingers through Preston’s hair, the happiness in his smile mirroring what I feel. Our Omega’s skin is flushed red, his forehead damp with sweat but he looks so goddamn happy and that’s all that matters.
“I'm going to check on Slate, but Malik brought food."
Thane groans at the mention of food, probably because he hasn't eaten anything substantial since Preston went into labor. Malik crawls into the den with a tray of sandwiches and what looks like soup, moving carefully to avoid disturbing the delicate scene. He hesitates as Thane shifts forward, Malik bowing his head in complete submission.
“You’re good, Leek. I think whatever protective, animalistic bullshit was going on was just during the actual labor part.”
Malik snorts. “So, you’re not going to kill me? Fantastic.”
Preston stirs at the disturbance, blinking sleepily before looking at all of us. When he gives us a tired smile, I sigh with relief, glad that we’ve moved past the protective stage.
Thane hands Preston over to Malik with practiced ease, the transfer smooth despite the tiny fox pups still nestled in Preston's arms. The babies curl up tight against their Omega fathers, instinctively seeking warmth and comfort. They're so small, so perfect, that it takes my breath away every time I look at them.
