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 –

–

–

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.”

giving him a tired little smile. “I want you to meet

voice kinder now as he meets my gaze. “Just….when you’ve cleaned

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. Roger tries to muffle

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

–

Cora rolls her 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 comes

short spaces between them. I can feel my baby moving

voice is a balm to my agonized body. I look at her with hope in my eyes and she

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

“he’s here, Ella!

begin to push again. And push, 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

working to sit up and 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 and the passing of responsibility to another – no matter how much they

okay, Ella – he’s almost born – but…” She and Hank hesitate and exchange glances again, then looking down at the baby. I struggle to sit

leaning forward to press me back to

fixed on Sinclair. “Please, you have to

sighs as she sits back and I see that her face is worried. “Ella,

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

worry,” Hank continues, “that because he’s such a

horrified. Sinclair goes rigid

It’s called shoulder dystocia

horribly worried. “What

says, though her worried voice belies her words. “We’re trained for