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.

makes me want to

Sinclair

moved quite quickly through this,

me as the contraction ends and I pant, working to

even for a wolf birth. But you should be in the final parts of it now," he says,

eyes at him a little bit when 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

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

agonizing work, but my sister calls encouragement to me and my mate is by my side through

feels like an endless repetition of this pattern, Cora gives a little

and the cheer in her voice is a balm to my agonized

with hope in my eyes and

big push, sis, and his head will be born,

wait for the next contraction and, when it comes and Cora tells me

"Oh, his little head!"

I gasp, laying back and panting as I feel the contraction end, and I look to Cora for instructions. Instead of a happy smile, though, I see her exchange an odd little glance with

working to sit up and moaning at the pain that

Where's

asks,

so hard, to stay still and steady, to let the doctor's do their work. Inaction and the

wants

"Um,"

okay, Ella -

looking down at the baby. I struggle to sit up, to see the

beg, my eyes fixed

have

as she sits back and I see that her face

he didn’t make any progress in the past few pushes. Which is sometimes a sign

"There is some worry,"

continues, "that because he’s such a large baby,

gasp,

rigid next to

Hank says

this with large babies. It’s called shoulder dystocia — we think his shoulder is trapped up

I gasp, confused, baffled, horribly

"What do we -"

says, though her worried voice