Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

#Chapter 292 – 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 –

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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.”

to him, giving him a tired little

says, his voice kinder now as he

of the mattress that makes it harder for her

quickly takes Cora’s space at my side, Sinclair solid a solid force next to my head. ” You’ve moved quite quickly through this, Ella,” Hank informs me as the contraction ends and I pant, working to catch my breath. “This is rare, even for a wolf

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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

continues for a few rounds, of me huffing and pushing with all of my might during the contractions 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 work, but my sister calls encouragement to me and my mate is by my

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

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 I hope will help

says, smiling at me, “he’s here, Ella! Just a couple more to bring forward

and push. 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

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

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

hesitate and exchange glances again,

her head at me, leaning forward to press me back

my eyes fixed on Sinclair. “Please, you have to tell us.

sighs as she sits back and I see that her face is worried. “Ella, he didn’t

in the past few pushes. Which is sometimes a sign that…”

because he’s such a large baby, that he

suddenly horrified. Sinclair goes rigid next to

babies. It’s called shoulder dystocia – we think his shoulder is trapped

I gasp, confused, baffled, horribly worried.

voice