Munro (Immortals After Dark #18) by Kresley Cole

            “They’re coming too fast. Crowning.” She dug her claws into his arm. “Bed! Or they’re coming here!”

            Munro clutched her close and ran for all their lives.





SIXTY-SEVEN





            As Munro hastened back to the lodge, Ren grappled to keep her babies inside, fighting to cage her beast. But the battle sounds spurred it even more.

            Everyone just stay put! I need a moment!

            Sweat dripped in her eyes as she bit back screams. She was too weak to push out one baby, much less two! She roiled with dizziness, and her vision faded in and out. . . .

            “Love, I need you to wake up.”

            Wake? “I was asleep?” When she blinked open her eyes, she found herself in their bed.

            “Here we go.” Munro positioned her against the headboard, then stuffed pillows behind her. His face looked as if it’d been carved from stone, but she could tell he was terrified.

            Regret swamped her. “I’m so sorry.” Her c-section plan had failed.

            “None of that! We’ll get through this.”

            Another contraction hit. “Ahhhh!” Her claws shredded the bedding.

            He knelt between her legs. “You’re a powerful she-wolf. I believe in you, lass. And I love you more than the moon.” He cupped her face and planted a kiss on her lips. “Now, let’s take care of business for our lads.”

            At least one of them was feeling take-charge.

            He ripped off her bloody skirt and tore away her underwear. His eyes grew wide. “That’s a—fuck me—a head, no?” Munro’s brain seemed to be malfunctioning right before Ren’s unfocused eyes. “S’posed to be that big?”

            Between panting breaths, she said, “Just be . . . ready.”

            When the next contraction hit, she lowered her chin to her chest and pushed, yelling from the effort.

            A haze of pressure and pain lasted for what must have been hours. Pressure and pain. Pushing the baby, fighting the beast. Pushing, fighting, pushing . . .

            PRESSURE!

            She screamed and used all of her strength to ease it—

            Then . . . relief.

            A baby slipped into Munro’s arms. “You did it! Kereny, we have a son.” He held up a surprisingly large infant. A healthy cry made her heart soar. “One down, one to go. You’re doing amazing with your beast!”

            She wanted to see their son, but her lids grew too heavy. “So tired. Need to rest.” Exhaustion made her eyes slide shut.

            When she opened them again, Munro was handing her a bundle wrapped in a nursery blanket. “Look at our lad, Kereny.” His voice was roughened. “He’s perfect.”

            She stroked the baby’s soft cheek. “Sweet, brave boy.” Their poor son was having a hell of a night.

            A wolven chuff left Munro’s lips. He was watching the two of them like he’d witnessed a miracle. His eyes were wet, filled with so much love. “You’re an ace at this! Should’ve known you would no’ need that cuff. The first babe has paved the way, so this should be easier.”

            Easier? If caressing her beloved son proved this difficult, how could she deliver another one? Resurrecting from the dead had been simpler than this! “If I pass out again, lay him in the crib until his brother comes. Then put them to my breasts. They need to nurse.”

            He nodded. “I can do that.”

            The black dots at the edge of her sight grew sharper until her eyes closed once more. Munro took the baby, and sleep followed for a few minutes. Or hours.

            —DANGER!— Her Instinct blared the word, waking her. “Wh-what’s happening?” Their first son lay bundled in his crib, making soft squawks. Howls sounded from outside, the clash continuing.

            Munro knelt between her legs, blood covering his arms. “I need you to push. The Instinct is telling me that we’ve got to get him born. Now.”