The Mystical Attraction of Alpha

Chapter 291 – Big Alpha Baby

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.”

I 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.”

makes it harder for her to see what’s really going on. Roger tries to muffle his groan as he turns away, which perversely makes me want

informs me as the contraction ends and I pant, working to catch my breath. “This is rare, even for a wolf birth. But you should be in the final parts of it now,” he says, patting

–

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

and then resting, as best I can, in the short spaces between them. I can feel my baby moving inside me, progressing along. It’s hard, agonizing

Cora gives a little gasp. “Okay, he’s almost here!” she says, and the cheer in her voice is a balm to my agonized body. I look at her with hope in my eyes and she gives me a happy little nod. “One big push, sis, and his head will be born, and

and Cora tells me to, I push – absolutely

here, Ella! Just a couple

contraction end, and I look

moaning at the pain that shoots through my back.” What’s wrong? Where’s my

me. I 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

born – but…” She and 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

she sits back and I see that her face is worried. “Ella, he didn’t make any progress in the past few pushes. Which

because he’s such a large baby, that he could be

to me. “It’s common,” Hank says hurriedly. “Lots of women experience this with large babies. It’s called shoulder dystocia – we think his shoulder

confused, baffled, horribly worried. “What

though her worried voice belies her

under my shoulder, pulling upwards. “Come on, Ella, you need to change your position before the next contraction comes – I’m going to move you on your side to shift your pelvis, and then –