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.

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

takes Cora’s space at my side, Sinclair solid a solid force next to my

quickly through this,

ends and I pant, working

final parts of it now," he says, patting my knee and

idea what that could mean - is there trouble

all of my might during the contractions and then resting,

and my mate is by my side through every moment of it, steadily holding

what feels like an endless repetition of this pattern,

she says, and the cheer in her voice is a balm to my

eyes

and his head will be born,

my body.I wait for the next contraction and, when it comes and Cora tells me to, I push - absolutely

"Oh, his little head!"

"he’s here, Ella! Just a couple more to bring forward his body next!" I nod, eager, and begin to push again. And push, and push. I gasp, laying back and panting as I feel

working to sit up and moaning at the

wrong? Where's my

wrong?" Sinclair asks, suddenly tense next to

can 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 passing of responsibility to another - no matter how much they outstrip him

mate wants to

"Um,"

hesitates, "it’s okay, Ella - he’s almost born

Hank hesitate and exchange glances again, 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 to press me back to the

beg, my eyes

have to tell

as she sits back and I see that her face

any progress in the past

"There is some worry,"

because he’s such a large

gasp, suddenly

rigid next to

Hank says

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

I gasp, confused, baffled,

"What do we -"

though her