Surrogate for My Brother-in-law - Chapter 51: Chapter 51

I wasn't sure what drugs were in the syringe Eva forced on me. I knew what they did, though. As the first cramps rocked through my body, I understood.
Eva had injected me with something that induced labor. The cramps were early stage contractions. I was going to have my baby, right then.
It was too soon! I should still have a month left. The pup's lungs wouldn't be fully developed yet. There could be complications, they would need an incubator and medical care.
“Please, Eva, I need a doctor,” I begged, “The pup might not survive. It's too soon!”
I couldn't ask her to stop it. I knew it was already too late for that. But I hoped she'd care enough about the baby to get help.
“Don't be such a wimp,” Eva scoffed. “Lots of wolves opt for home births. You'll be fine.”
There was a big difference between a home birth and being forced into labor while chained in a secret room in the walls of your house. I would have pointed that out, but my insides decided to make a valiant effort to become my outsides. At least that's how it felt.
Was that a cramp or a contraction? It was too soon. They were supposed to be several minutes apart. You were supposed to be able to time them, to know how long you had.
Something was wrong. Everything was wrong.
“Ew, did you just wet yourself?” Eva sneered, backing away from the growing puddle on the ground.
“Water broke,” I whispered. I didn't think that part was supposed to hurt.
“Is that what that means?” Eva tilted her head. “The book didn't describe that very clearly.”
What book had she even read? I didn't bother to ask.
“Please, Eva, get help. Someone, anyone,” I begged, again.
Even one of her pet healers would be better than doing it alone.
Eva shook her head. “That's not the plan. We can't have any witnesses, Tessa, you know that.”
I moaned as something inside me twisted. Was it the baby? Was the baby even in the right position yet? I knew they were supposed to turn and flip into a head down position sometime in the last month. Had it happened? Or was the baby breech?
“Ugh, this is gonna be messy, isn't it?” Eva sighed. “I'll go get some towels or something.”
“Don't... don't leave me!” I reached out, but Eva was already out of sight.
Eva was the last person on Earth I wanted near me while I was vulnerable and in pain. But even she was better than being alone. And she'd just walked away.
I screamed. I knew it was pointless. I knew how deep in the walls I was. I was wasting my energy but I was so scared and so angry and it hurt so, so much.
I tried to time the contractions. You were supposed to time them. I knew that. I'd read every text on pregnancy and childbirth I could find. They all said you had to time the contractions.
But when the contractions happened, the pain wiped any thought from my mind. I just whited out. And then I was so busy panting for a single full breath that I sort of forgot how to count. And then it had been too long and the next one was building.
I couldn't brace myself. I was pretty sure I passed out a couple times. Something was wrong. Everything was wrong. The contractions shouldn't be that close that fast. I knew that but I didn't know what to do about it.
I curled up in a corner of the room. It took me three, four contractions to get the wall at my back. Eva hadn't even left me a blanket.
I screamed through another cramp. Those weren't contractions. I don't know how I knew the difference. I couldn't describe it. I just knew something was wrong.
Breathe.
The command echoed through my mind. I knew that voice. It spoke to me in my mirror and it taught me how to heal.
Not alone, never alone. Breathe.
My wolf's voice was gentle and soft. And confident, where I was terrified. I whimpered, and breathed as she commanded.
Good. Another wave comes. Breathe.
A wave was a good way to describe it. A crashing wave of pain that knocked me over and sent my mind tumbling and whirling and left me flattened in its wake.
I breathed on command. I couldn't count, and the wolf didn't really seem to have a concept of time or numbers. But she knew when the next one would come and she warned me and that helped.
I braced myself when she warned me of a contraction and rested when she told me it was safe. When the cramps came, the wolf growled in my mind.
Wrong. She said. Heal.
There was no way I could focus enough to heal myself. I didn't even know what was wrong!
Another cramp came, with no warning from the wolf because it was something wrong, not a part of labor. I rode it out with a wheeze because I hadn't drawn enough breath to scream.
Heal, the wolf ordered, or you die. Pup dies.
Heal. Right. I was a healer. I could do it. I didn't always know exactly what was wrong when I healed Ethan's wolves. I just let my wolf guide me.
I rode out another contraction. I knew not to push yet, at least. Not while the cramps were twisting me up and throwing everything off.
When the next cramp came, I threw everything I had, every ounce of strength, into healing. I felt the wolf move through my blood and my muscles and my skin. It was what I imagined the beginning of a shift must feel like. Everything twisted, and at first it was agony but then it was just numb, and I collapsed to the floor.
Good. Now. Breathe.
I breathed, and this time it was several minutes before another contraction. I counted, while the wolf hummed silent songs to herself.
Growl, don't scream. Save strength.
I could growl. Growling was easier than screaming, really. I growled through each contraction, and hummed along with my wolf in between. The humming helped because I was so busy trying to figure out how my wolf had learned a song I'd never heard that I was thoroughly distracted from the dread of the next contraction.
Hours or days or months later, I'm not sure, something changed. The pain of the contraction went from all encompassing, squeezing pain to something more directed, something sharp and sudden.
Time, my wolf helpfully informed me. Next one. Push.
It was time to push already? I wasn't ready!
Now.
I couldn't disobey. The wolf knew what she was doing. I pushed.
I strained and pushed and growled. The contraction ended.
Again. Push.
I lost count of how many times I pushed. Maybe three, maybe three hundred. Probably not that many.
There was a sudden rush, a burning fire that I was pretty sure meant something had torn loose. And then there was a weak, whining cry.
My pup! I dove for the sound and there was a slippery, bloody shape that I scooped into my arms and held close.
The pup was whining, but shouldn't it be crying?
“Oh, you're done? Finally!”
I looked up. How long had Eva been there? Had she watched me strain and cry and fight and just stood there doing nothing?
She had a bundle of towels. She bent over me and tugged at the baby. I screamed; the cord was still connected.
“Oh, ew,” Eva said. “Right, gotta cut this.”
Eva pulled a knife out of her pocket and cut the cord. She didn't clamp it on either side. Blood spurted everywhere. Eva yelped and jumped back, with my pup bundled in her arms.
“Clean this up,” Eva ordered. She threw one of the towels at me.
“Wait! Don't go!” I reached out, begging her not to leave me, but she didn't even glance back once.
I curled up on the floor, covered in sweat and blood and dirt, as the faint whimpers of my baby faded into the darkness.