Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 141 : Of All the Nights to be Born

*Xander*

Rowan was pacing back and forth across the length of the library, a glass of scotch clutched so tightly in his hand

that I thought it was going to crack. Troy and Ethan were quietly chatting as they sat opposite of each other in two

high-backed armchairs. They seemed calm, practically jovial.

Rowan, on the other hand, looked like he was going to murder someone.

Lena had kicked me out of the bedroom she was laboring in. I didn't protest, not at the time. I was planning on

going back up there to relieve Maeve of her “support person" duties once I finished the light dinner a maid had

brought up for us in the library.

I was also waiting for news about the ship carrying Adrian and Abigail to the port of Findali, which was late because

of the thunderstorm that was brewing over Mirage. Rain was starting to patter against the windows, but I found the

sound comforting. I hoped Lena would, too.

“Can I get you another drink?" I asked Rowan, who was either ignoring me or didn't hear me, whichever one. I let

out my breath in a long, drawn-out sigh. I hated that Lena was suffering. Knowing that she was in pain was ripping

me to shreds. But her agony was coming out sideways, and she was lashing out at everyone and everything. I

couldn't comfort her right now, and it was killing me.

I didn't let it show. I walked back over to the long table in the center of the library and forked another bite of roast

beef into my mouth, washing it down with tepid coffee. It was going to be a long night. Lena wasn't progressing as

fast as we originally thought.

The library door swung open and Maeve walked inside, red in the face and her hair tied in a messy, somewhat

sweaty bun on the top of her head.

Everyone in the room turned to her, and for a moment my heart dropped into my stomach thinking I'd missed the

birth, but Maeve caught my gaze and shook her head.

“She's fine–pissed, but just fine. She said she was going to try to sleep for a while," Maeve breathed, glancing

toward the food on the table.

I motioned for her to eat as I walked toward the door leading out of the hallway and into the first-floor corridor. I

didn't look back as muted conversation about Lena and the baby rippled through the air. Maeve would fill them in, I

was sure, and I'd find out for myself what kind of shape Lena was in now.

I walked up the grand stone staircase to the third floor. It was quiet up here, and down one darkened corridor I

could see our bedroom door was slightly ajar, but darkened. I let out the breath I was holding, thankful she was able

to get some rest.

But then I heard whispering coming from the sitting room just across the hall from our bedroom.

I stepped inside the sitting room to find Hanna with her arms crossed over her chest, her cheeks pink with emotion

while the midwife, a portly older woman who I found out had a mean streak, packed up her things.

“What's going on?" I said in a hiss as I stepped into the room.

Hanna's eyes flicked up to mine before she ran her hands over her face, her shoulders slumping in resignation.

“The labor has stalled. That baby isn't coming 'til tomorrow, I guarantee it–"

“Where are you going?" I asked sharply as she gathered up her bag. She blinked up at me, shrugging her shoulders.

“Another birth. I'll be back in the morning," she replied casually, pushing past me toward the door.

I opened my mouth to tell her to stop, and that she was staying, but she was gone before I could utter another

word.

Hanna sucked in her breath behind me, hugging herself. I turned to face her, my face twisted in confusion. “What

the hell is going on?"

“Lena's contractions slowed, and she hasn't made any progress since this afternoon–"

“So the midwife just left?"

“There's another mother who is progressing quicker, I guess."

“Hanna," I protested. But before I could say anything else, I heard yelling in the hallway.

Rowan stormed into the room, red in the face.

“Where the hell does she think she's going?" Rowan growled, shutting the door behind him. I exhaled, crossing my

arms over my chest as Rowan and I turned to Hanna, who paled under our shared gaze.

“There's nothing I can do about it!" she argued. “Lena is fine, anyway. She's asleep–"

“I'll call the car around. We're taking her to the hospital," Rowan said firmly, running his fingers through his hair.

“No, that's not what she wants!" Hanna protested, and I felt the electricity between the two mates fall over us like a

wet blanket.

“We're going to let her sleep," I said with conviction. “If things get worse, we'll have the midwife come back. If her

labor has truly stalled, then there's nothing a hospital could do for her, either." I turned to Hanna, looking deep into

her pale brown eyes for understanding. “Is she alright–and the baby?"

“They're fine."

“Then we wait it out."

“There's another midwife nearby. I'll have someone call down to her practice and see if she can come," Rowan said,

his voice leveling out as his initial anger subsided.

“I think it's best if the original midwife doesn't come back, anyway. Lena doesn't like her, and I don't either," I

declared, which elicited a nod from Hanna.

I let my arms relax at my sides and gave them a nod in farewell as I stepped out of the room and walked across the

hallway, sliding into our bedroom and shutting the door behind me. Lena was asleep in the bed with what looked

like five bedrooms worth of pillows around her. Her hair was damp with sweat, and her face was twisted in a painful

scowl, but she was asleep. She was fine. She'd be fine.

I walked across the room and sat in the armchair near the window so I could have a full view of her face as she laid

on her side. Rain was streaming down the windows now, and outside, the wind was starting to pick up. I'd been

warned about the thunderstorms in this part of the realm; they were vicious and violent.

“Of all the nights to be born," I whispered to my unborn daughter, “you chose this one?"

***

Lena let out a howl that made a shiver run down my spine. Her fingernails were ripping through my skin as she

stood in front of me, bent at the waist, her head pressing into my stomach. I was breathing hard, watching as

Maeve and Hanna hurried around the room with two maids as they laid out towels, linens, and supplies.

It was 3:00 in the morning. The sky outside was black as death, and thunder made the glass panes in the windows

tremble violently as the room was lit up by a flash of blue lightning. Lena screamed, and not from the storm. This

baby was coming now, and fast.

“There's no word at all from the midwives," a third maid cried as she rushed into the room with a basket full of

supplies. Gauze and antiseptic jostled in her basket as she hurried to the bed, where Maeve was laying out several

blankets and towels. There was an old infirmary downstairs that hadn't been staffed in years, but it had everything

we needed. At least, I hoped.

Two hours ago, Lena had woken up screaming for help. Now, I was holding onto her for dear life while she brought

our daughter into the world without any assistance from the midwives.

Lena stilled, looking up at me with tears in her eyes, but no fear. Determination was etched into her expression, a

righteous fury behind her eyes that immediately sent a rush of calm through my body.

“Are you ready?" I asked, and she nodded.

I sucked in my breath and tore my gaze from hers to look at Maeve and Hanna, who were standing side by side as

the maids readied the room.

Rosalie walked through the door, glancing at me and Lena with a soft smile on her face as Elaine and Clare lingered

in the doorway.

There were three White Queens in this room. We'd be okay. All I could do now was to continue telling myself that

Lena and Alexis would make it through this.

“The creek overflowed and the road to the castle is washed out. I don't know about the trail–" Rosalie began, but

Lena's moan of pure agony cut her off.

I held her head against my chest, her cheek pressed against the sweat-soaked fabric of my T-shirt. I closed my

eyes, letting that shadow of power embrace us, trying in vain to take the edge off some of her pain.

“Where do you want to be?" I asked in a whisper. “Do you want to lie down?"

“I don't think I can move," she breathed, her body beginning to tremble. I opened my eyes to find Hanna, Maeve,

and Elaine hurrying to gather the towels off the bed and lay them around Lena's feet. Clare stood next to Rosalie,

her face pale and eyes wide.

I was holding Lena upright, and she was using me to bare down. But her knees began to give out, her body trying to

slump to the floor.

“I need to lower you down–"

“It hurts so much," she cried, looking up at me through eyes blurred with endless tears.

I felt the fear pass through her. She'd been laboring in absolute agony for hours now, the contractions unceasing.

She was exhausted, I could see it in her face as I bent my knees and gently lowered her to the ground so she was

lying on her back.

It dawned on me what was about to happen.

So it seemed like I was going to be the one to bring our daughter into the world. It was going to be me.

I'd never delivered a baby before. The only newborn experience I had was holding Flora and Ava with Ciana

hovering over me like a hawk, making sure I was supporting their necks.

Lena was whimpering, her face reddened with pain and exertion. The pale gray dress she was wearing that fell just

below her knees was soaked with sweat, clinging to her skin. I kept my eyes on her as I reached between her legs

and felt… a foot.

I stifled my internal panic, but I flicked my eyes toward Hanna, who noticed the way my body went rigid. She took a

few slow, cautious steps toward me and knelt beside me, her hand on Lena's knee. She felt what I'd felt, and she

met my eye.

What the f**k were we going to do?

I didn't notice Clare until she squatted at my side. She sucked in her breath, looking between me and Hanna as

understanding passed through her eyes.

“You need to get her up, now. She needs to be standing–"

“What–" I choked, but Clare cut me off.

“She needs to be standing! Get her up!" Clare's voice was laced with urgency.

Lena was crying now, calling out for Hanna. My heart squeezed in my chest as I wrapped my arms around Lena and

tried to get her upright, her screams of pain and protest cutting through my soul.

“The baby is breech," Clare said sharply toward Maeve, Rosalie, and the maids. Clare rolled up her sleeves and

shoved past a maid toward the bathroom, and I heard water running. Lena was clawing me with her fingernails as I

held her upright, her body shaking violently.

Clare came out of the bathroom smelling sharply of rubbing alcohol, but her eyes were blazing with determination.

How did she know what to do?

She was kneeling at my feet in an instant, guiding our child into the world while I held onto my mate for dear life.

Clare grunted with frustration and Lena screamed loud enough to drown out another clap of thunder.

Maeve rushed forward, her voice a soft lullaby as she matched Hanna's calm words of encouragement in Lena's

ears. Lena was beyond lucidity at this point, a contraction rolling through her that nearly made her eyes roll back in

her head.

“Push now, Lena!" Clare cried, and Lena did.