Page 61 of Laurels and Liquor

Jason gives me a withering look, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Don’t want me crashing the party?” he teases.

I roll my eyes. “I was trying to not make it weird for you and your sister, but hey, if that’s what you’re into, I’m not one to kink shame—”

Jason takes a swing at me, but I dodge easily, laughing. I like Jason a lot, especially after having spent the last several days with him. He’s still got some work to do in deconstructing all the dogma his parents put in his head, but Rome wasn’t built in a day. We haven’t talked about his plans for his future after he gets released from his pack, but I do hope he’ll stick around Georgia. I know Lydia would love having him close by, and we could find a place for a sharp mind like his within the St. Clair Foundation.

My thoughts are interrupted as my phone buzzes in my hand, and I let out a snort of annoyance. It’s just Ted informing me that he’s found someone to remove the ankle monitor, but they won’t be able to come out for another hour or two. I have half a mind to cut it off with a pair of kitchen shears, but it would be stupid for me to come this far only to trip at the finish line. I’ve gone this long. I can manage a few more hours without ripping my hair out by the roots.

I contain my manic energy and channel it into packing, at least while Jason finishes gathering the last of his things. One bro hug later, and he’s off into the afternoon sun. He’ll drive a few hours, hopefully getting across the Mississippi border before stopping for the night. Once the door closes behind him, I'm left alone with my thoughts and anxieties once again. It’s only a few more hours, I tell myself. I can do this.

My suitcases are packed, boxes of my work piled on the table and taped shut, ready for the trip back to Everton. The group chat hums constantly, everyone doing their part to prepare. Lucas is with Lydia, monitoring her and making sure she’s safe. Lex is out running errands, making sure we have plenty of easy meals and snacks in the house, as well as bottles of electrolyte-filled beverages. Mateo is helping her for now, but will be there waiting for me at the airport as soon as the plane touches down. I have nothing left to do but wait and pace and wonder if my omega will be there for me when I’m finally set free.

Chapter twenty-nine

Lydia

I’vebeentoldallmy life that it’s not a mortal’s place to question God’s timing, that things happen when they’re meant to, and we should just do our best with what we’re given. I haven’t believed anything like that in a while, but the events of today really hammer home that Sky Daddy is a petty bitch with a malicious sense of humor.

I’d been spending the day with Sylvie, helping her get the last few things settled in the nursery. Clothes were folded, pillows fluffed, diapers stuffed in every available space. I’ll admit that her nesting has only enhanced my own urge to do the same, but I keep pushing it off. My pack knows that I’m close to my heat, and have been doing everything in their power to make sure I’m comfortable. Only I have been shoving down all my urges for days in an effort not to alarm them. I know the moment Rhett is released, however, I won’t be able to hide how close I truly am.

But all my work and effort were thrown out the window the moment I heard the sudden gasp and splash on the kitchen tile. My senses flooded with cinnamon and sugar, and something deeper that punched me right in the gut. Sylvie’s water broke, and the world fell into chaos.

Now I’m sitting in a delivery room in St. Mary’s Hospital, clutching her hand as she breathes through another contraction. We’ve been here for a few hours, and I haven’t been able to move more than an arm’s length away from the bed without my mind screaming panic at me. I have this overwhelming need to be by her side, to soothe her and protect her and the baby. I’ve never felt like this about someone before, but I don’t have the mental capacity to look at those feelings too closely at the moment.

The contraction subsides, and Sylvie sags down into the pillows. I reach over and gently wipe the sweat away from her brow, brushing back a few loose strands of her cotton-candy pink hair. She smiles weakly up at me, nuzzling my palm slightly.

“Your pack must be losing their shit, girlie,” she jokes, laughing breathily.

I shrug. “They’ll be fine. I’m staying with you,” I say in a tone that brooked no argument.

“I know. And I’m glad you are. Caleb’s useless.”

We both laugh, and I glance over my shoulder at my bodyguard. He’s sitting in a chair, elbows on his knees, hands steepled and pressed to his lips as they mutter softly in his native language. His eyes are closed, but I can see them moving back and forth beneath his eyebrows. I didn’t think he was particularly spiritual, but the birthing process does strange things to people.

A sudden pang of white-hot pain shoots from my lower belly, up my stomach, and into my lungs, and I have to hide my wince. I know it’s just the first warning sign of what’s to come, but I won’t let Sylvie worry about me. She needs to stay calm, to keep that baby safe. I look up at the monitor, watching the rapid but steady pulse of their heartbeat.

“Still hoping for a boy?” I ask conversationally, stepping away to pour a glass of ice water.

Sylvie snorts and Caleb growls. They’d intentionally decided not to learn the sex of the baby, and it’s been a point of contention. Caleb is convinced it’s a boy, but Sylvie insists it’s a girl. Something about a ring test or another old wives’ tale. I know they’ll be great parents either way, but it’s almost too easy to tease them.

A nurse comes in to check on progress, and I hover close, smoothing down her blankets and generally fussing. My skin itches and I feel like I’m dripping sweat, but I can’t leave. The farthest away I can tolerate is the connected bathroom, but even then, I’m restless and slightly manic. The ache in my gut grows steadily, but I can ignore it, at least for now.

I don’t know how long we’ve been there when the door bursts open and I nearly collapse from the wave of mulled wine that crashes over me. Lex strides into the room, looking royally pissed off. Her hazel eyes flash, taking in Caleb, who’s now perched on the edge of Sylvie’s bed, holding her hand and then me, with my chair placed as close as I can get without being in the way. Her shoulders relax ever so slightly, but she’s still frowning.

“Ms. St. Clair, I—oh, God. I’m so sorry, I forgot to call you back—”

“Yes, you did,” Lex snaps, cutting off Caleb’s rambling apology.

She crosses to me, tilting my chin up with a finger so I can’t look anywhere but her eyes as she assesses me. I swallow hard, hands twitching in my lap as I hold back the impulse to drag her close and never let her go. She doesn’t miss my slight wince as my belly turns painfully, and I flush hot.

“You need to come home, sweetness,” Lex says softly.

My eyes go wide, and I look to Sylvie, throat tight. “I can’t. I need to be here—”

Lex growls a little under her breath, and I whimper, shaking my head. I want to give in, but the idea of leaving Sylvie and the baby right now, when they both need me, is too much to bear. My mind is consumed with worries for her comfort and safety, as well as the safety of the baby. I can’t go more than a few minutes without touching her, soothing her in some way. And the idea of leaving her side makes my heart throb painfully in my chest.

“Your pack needs you, too. And it’s going to get more dangerous for you to be here the longer you let this go on,” Lex reasons.

I know she’s only looking out for me, but I can’t fathom leaving. I jerk my chin away from her grip and move to sit on the bed opposite Caleb. Sylvie looks up at me wearily, smiling as I push her hair back from her damp forehead. I purr a little and both she and Caleb seem to relax, which settles something in my chest.

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