Pregnant And Rejected By My Alpha Mate By Caroline Above Chapter 40
Chapter 40 Rebirth
Selene’s POV
I’ve known more than my fair share of pain over the years, but nothingpares tobor. I feel like I’m
being torn apart from the waist down. Even Wolfsbane didn’te close to this torture.
It happens in waves, swelling and cresting over and over again until I’m so exhausted and drained that
I barely have the strength to keep my eyes open. I want to rest, but every time my muscles rx
enough to attempt it, a fresh assault wracks my form with agony and drags me back into
consciousness.
“Can’t you just knock me out?” I ask the nurses petting and soothing me.
“No honey.” The nearest one coos. “I know it’s terrible, but you’re doing so well.” She praises. “Do you
want some more ice?”
“No.” I cry, tears slipping from the corners of my eyes, “I want Bastien.”
Drake strokes my hair back from my face, lowering his lips to my ear, “Easy now, Celeste.” He
enunciates my false name pointedly, remember who you are.”
I whip my head from right to left, my chest shaking with sobs as I grip the hand rails at my sides with
white knuckled fists. “I need him.” I sob piteously. “I can’t do this without him.”
It’s been so long since I let myself think of Bastien, I’d almost even convinced myself I don’t miss him.
I’ve filled my imagination with my shiny new life, my burgeoning aplishments and independence –
telling myself I finally have everything I’ve ever wanted. But none of it feels right without my mate.N?velDrama.Org content rights.
It’s true I have so many things I’ve never been able to contemte in the past, and it’s true I’m happy
with my freedom, but these past 6 months have felt just a little too much like a dream. Everything that’s
happening feels true in the moment, but something always seems off, a small part of my mind knows it
isn’t real. Eventually I have to wake up, and whenever I do, it’s never easy.
Sometimes it happens in the middle of the night, in those stolen hours when deep thoughts always
seem to appear unbidden, and unspoken anxieties and emotions rear their ugly heads. Sometimes it
happens listening to a familiar song, or watching a movie scene that hits just a little too close to home.
And sometimes it happens when something so jarring and unfathomable strikes that it bes
impossible to pretend any longer like now. This pain has stolen all pretense from my mind, as well as
all concern for my own self-preservation.
“Shh Celeste.” Drake croons, “You can do this. You’vee so far.”
“Stop it!” I push his hands away, my roiling hormones making me suddenly furious that my friend is not
my mate. “I can’t – I don’t want… I need.”
“Just breathe, honey.” The nurse says, shooting an apologetic nce to Drake. “Don’t take it
personally, you should hear some of the thingsboring moms say to their mates in the heat of the
moment.”
“He’s not my mate!” My despondent wailes out a whisper, my chest heaving but still unable to
draw in enough air. “My mate didn’t want me. He rejected me.”
The nurse pats my hand, holding my gaze with stern but understanding eyes. “If that’s true, then he’s
not worth your tears, and he’ s thest person you need.” She nods to Drake. “The people who care
are the ones who show up. They’re the ones who deserve your love, don’t let anyone tell you
otherwise.”
My head falls back on the pillow as a contraction eases, and I sniffle pitifully. “I’m sorry.” I hup,
reaching for my friend. “I didn’t mean it.”
“I know, silly wolf.” Drake grins, taking my hand again. “It’s okay, you’re doing so well.”
Another contraction seizes my uterus, and I jolt forward off the bed with a howl, “Liar!”
Just then the door opens, and my doctor sweeps in. She’s pulling on gloves with a wide smile that
makes me want to hit her, “How are we doing, Celeste?” She beams.
“Get this thing out of me!” I demand weakly.
“Let’s just see how far along we are.” She suggests calmly.
I moan and writhe as she examines me, feeling no relief at all when she announces, “Ten centimeters.”
Her head peaks up from beneath the nket covering my syed legs, “Are you ready to be a
mom?”
“I was ready fourteen hours ago!” I snap.
Infuriatingly, she just pats my leg and smiles, “Then let’s get this show on the road.”
The nurses follow the doctor’s instructions, positioning themselves on my sides and hooking their arms
beneath my legs to help support me while she hunkers down at the end of the bed. I feel so guilty for
resenting their touch, but no matter what encouragement orfort anyone offers me, the fact remains
that the only person I want is Bastien.
I channel all my frustration, sorrow and fear into pushing, screaming and groaning at the top of my
hoarse lungs. It happens in bursts, bearing down for ten seconds at a time, bawling and retching in
between pushes before starting all over again.
After what feels like hours, the sensation of tearing from the inside out eases, and the doctor’s
obnoxiously perky voice announces, “it’s a girl!”
Before I can feel relief or joy or anything else for that matter something like an explosion bursts deep in
my chest, washing over me in a flood of electricity. The sudden rush of power carries me floating on a
tide of memory into the darkness, as the hospital room, and everyone in it, disappears.
Drake’s POV
tion fades to terror as I watch Selene faint, my attention swinging from her newborn daughter to her
slumped body and lolling head. “Wait, what’s happening?” I demand, jerking my head back and forth
between the silent baby and my unconscious friend.”
“Sir, please step back.” The doctor advises, “her vitals are still strong, she may simply be
overwhelmed.”
Despite her words, they’re all gathering around Selene in a very concerned manner, and three different
nurses are gathered around the baby, which has yet to cry.
The heart monitor beeps steadily on, but the doctor is clearly running through a mental checklist,
studying different machines and searching for warning signs on my friend’s body.
“What’s happening?” I repeat authoritatively, utilizing my rank for the first time.
“She’s lost consciousness.” The doctor informs me unhelpfully. “Her heart rate and temperature have
increased, but they’re still within the normal range. This does happen sometimes.” Even as she says
the words, she looks uncertain.
“And the baby?” I demand, “Why isn’t it crying?”
“These things don’t always happen immediately.” The doctor counters, more confidently this time.
As if she heard us speaking, a tiny cry fills the air, the delicate screech of new life greeting the world.
The nurses clean the tiny being and swaddle her in nkets while the doctor continues to work on
Selene, eventually approaching me with the squalling bundle. “Would you like to hold her?” The nurse
asks, offering me the baby.
I ept her wordlessly, uncertain what to do other than cradle the tiny life like she’s made of ss.
After standing frozen for a moment I begin to sway gently on my feet, grinning when the baby’s cries
soften. A pair of ssy eyes blink open and for a moment i’mpletely distracted from my worries.
It’s Selene’s eyes looking up at me: one violet, one blue, wide and innocent as can be. Perhaps she will
grow to resemble her father, but in this moment she is her mother’s perfect miniature. A swath of dark
hair covering her brow, the same pert nose and delicate frame. I’d be surprised if she even weighs five
pounds.
I’m so enthralled by the baby I don’t even notice when Selene begins to stir, though my inattention is
quickly remedied by the flurry of activities among the doctor and nurses. They gather around her in a
veritable frenzy, rechecking vital signs and running their tests.
Selene moans deep in her throat, tossing her head against the pillow and hazily surfacing
consciousness. Her striking eyes blink open in much the same way her daughter’s did, but instead of
looking up at me in wonder like the tiny creature in my arms, her gaze is wide and unseeing.
Yet even as I’m certain she has not returned to us fully, there is something undeniably different about
her, and I don’t think it’s waking as a mother. It feels as if all the days I’ve known her so far, I’ve only
been seeing half of her. And now for the first time, she’ s appearing to me fully. This is not the same
Selene I met in Elysium, or the one I’vee to know in Asphodel. She’s not even the same woman
she was five minutes ago.
The haunted waif is gone, reced by a radiant nymph no different in appearance, but unrecognizable
in spirit. Her full lips part as the doctor leans over her, and when she speaks her voice is fuller and
stronger than I’ve ever heard it. She does not cry in pain or ask questions, she merely utters a single,
reverent word: “Luna.”