Page 32 of Claimed By the Bookstore Alpha
I agreed to the deal and pulled him and his growing belly close. "A library that half the neighborhood helped move."
"A library they care about." His correction was important. "Because they care about us."
My wolf settled contentedly inside me, recognizing the truth of it. This was what pack felt like. It was this organic network of people who showed up when you needed them. And today, our “pack” was made up of shifters and humans.
"Come on." Clark tugged my hand. "Let's go set up the nursery. I want everything ready before this little one makes their debut."
I followed him toward what would become our baby's room, already imagining how we'd arrange it. But first, I paused to look out the window at the street below, where some of our volunteers were still chatting on the sidewalk, reluctant to let the day end.
Six months ago, I'd been alone with my books and my carefully guarded solitude. Now I was part of something beautiful, messy and real.
FOURTEEN
CLARK
The contractions started at three in the morning. I woke up to a tight, cramping sensation across my belly and I grabbed Flynn's arm.
“Do you need pickles?”
Another wave of pain rolled through me, stronger than before. "It’s time."
My mate sat up so fast he nearly fell out of bed. "Time? As in baby time?"
"Baby time." I breathed through the contraction, counting the seconds until it passed. "We should call Dr. Bauer.”
Flynn was already reaching for his phone, his hands shaking as he punched in the number. His wolf was in his voice when he spoke and it sounded like a protective growl underlying his words.
"Clark's in labor. He’s having contractions,” he babbled into the phone. My mate fired questions at me. “Yes, contractions started about ten minutes ago.” He took a breath. “About thirty seconds."
I listened to him relay information while focusing on my breathing. We'd practiced this in our birthing class, but the realthing was different. It was daunting and more intense, and I wasn’t sure I could bring our baby into the world.
"She wants us to come in.” Flynn hung up the phone. "She's meeting us at the hospital."
"Okay." I tossed the bedclothes off but doubled over as another contraction hit. "Oh, wow. These are getting stronger." That was an understatement.
My mate leaped to my side of the bed and placed his hands on my back. "Breathe through it. Just as we practiced."
I leaned into him, grateful for his strength. This wolf mate of mine I regarded with a mixture of affection and amazement. Nine months ago, I never could have imagined this moment, but now I couldn't picture going through this with anyone else.
The drive to the hospital was a blur of streetlights and increasingly painful contractions. Flynn drove with one hand on the wheel and the other reaching over to the back seat to hold mine whenever we stopped at a red light.
"You're doing great," he kept saying. "Just keep breathing."
"Easy for you to say." I gripped his hand as another wave hit. "You're not the one whose body is trying to turn itself inside out."
Dr. Bauer was waiting for us in the maternity ward. Her calming presence reassured me she’d done this hundreds of times. Or maybe not that many. I’d never asked. Should I have? She was one of the few medical professionals who specialized in shifter pregnancies, and I trusted her so I guessed it didn’t matter.
She helped me onto the examination table. "How are you doing?"
"Tired of being pregnant," I managed between contractions. “And ready to meet this baby."
"Well, you're definitely in active labor. Let's see how far along you are."
The examination confirmed what my body already told me that our baby was ready to make their entrance into the world. Dr. Bauer explained that everything looked normal, though she warned us that shifter pregnancies often progressed faster than purely human ones.
"The good news is that your body is handling everything beautifully," she said. "The baby's heartbeat is strong so we should have your little one here in the next few hours."
Hours? I was hoping for minutes. Maybe ten or less.
