Surrogate For Alpha Dom

Ella

I'm gripping my sister’s hand, gritting my teeth and groaning through the first of my pushes, when the door bangs open again.I don’t open my eyes — can't look - Quite frankly, at this particular moment I don’t care who the hell it is - if it's Hank, or Roger, or insurgents coming to kill us — all I care about is the horrible, tearing pain within me as I work to bring my baby into the world.I moan, throwing my head back against the pillows as I pant, feeling the pain subside a little bit.

"How is she?"

I hear Hank ask, and I open my eyes to see him there next to me.I try to give him a little smile, failing a bit.

"Hello, Ella," he says softly, his voice warmer than I'm used to.

"You look like you're doing great." mI murmur my thanks to him as he turns his attention back to Cora, getting a full report, and I shift my gaze to Roger, who stands awkwardly across the room.

"Roger," I say, putting my hand out to him, inviting him closer.

"Hello, Ella!" he calls, awkward.

"Happy...happy birth. Or whatever."

Sinclair starts to laugh quietly.

"Come over, Roger," he demands and Roger sighs, hanging his head and deliberately choosing not to look at me as he comes to stand with his brother.

"What," Sinclair asks him as he arrives at his side.

"More of a cigars in the waiting room kind of guy?"

"Yeah," Roger agrees, giving his brother a little glare.

"I'd say that’s much more my vibe."

"I wanted you here," I say to him, giving him a tired little smile.

"I want you to meet the baby."

"Of course I want to meet the baby, Ella," Roger says, his voice kinder now as he meets my gaze.

"Just...when you've cleaned it up a bit. Gotten some of the goop off." I laugh, a little, but groan when I feel the pain start to return.

Cora climbs up onto the bed for this one, cursing a little at the lack of stirrups and the soft surface of the mattress that makes it harder for her to see what's really going on.

groan as he turns away, which perversely makes me want to laugh in one of the more

space at my side, Sinclair solid

moved quite quickly

ends and I pant, working

be in the final parts of it now," he says,

this. I have no idea what that could mean - is there trouble in paradise? - but honestly, any of my interest in that question is immediately wiped out when the pain comes

all of my might during the contractions and then resting, as best I can, in the short

my mate is by my side through every moment of

an endless repetition of this pattern,

in her voice

look at her with hope in my eyes and she gives me a happy little

big push, sis, and his head will be born, and then it’s easy

the pain ravaging my body.I wait for the next contraction and, when it comes and Cora tells me to, I push - absolutely as hard as I can, giving a guttural yell while I do in that

"Oh, his little head!"

begin to push again. And push, and push. I gasp, laying back and

working to sit up and moaning at

Where's

Sinclair asks, suddenly tense next

tell by his voice that he’s working, so hard, to stay still and steady, to let the doctor's do their work. Inaction and the

wants to

"Um,"

- he’s almost

then looking down at the baby. I struggle to sit up, to see the child, but my sister shakes her head at me, leaning forward

I beg, my

you have

sighs as she sits back and I see

past few pushes.

"There is some worry,"

he’s such a large baby,

gasp, suddenly

rigid next to

Hank

It’s called shoulder dystocia — we think his shoulder is trapped

confused, baffled,

"What do we -"

Cora says, though her worried voice belies her