Chapter 3

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A/N: Special perspective for this chapter!

Osias

The blood-curdling screams of my beloved rang through the Pack House and tore violently at my heartstrings. The thought of him in such excruciating pain sent shockwaves of memories from the past that I tried with all of my might to put behind me. For the umpteenth time, I cussed at myself for not following my instincts and sticking right by Berlin's side while the rest of the pack attended the party, but as always, my kitten's wishes were always my top priority. 

I reached the french doors that opened to the Alpha wing within seconds after Benji's rushed announcement regarding Berlin's status. 

Regardless of the many birthing classes I'd been coaxed into attending with Berlin and the fact that the coaches told me to stay calm and collected during this time, I couldn't help the rapid racing of my discombobulated thoughts as I sprinted down the corridor. 

Was he going to be okay?

What were our pups going to look like?

Was he going to be okay?

Would our pups be healthy?

Was he going to be okay?

I never thought that I'd ever care for someone as much as I do Berlin. I thought I'd be known only as a stubborn asshole for the rest of my life, but when my beautiful angel entered my world I felt every wall I'd ever built up fall at his feet. Of course, according to others I could still be an asshole in every sense of the word on occasion, but Berlin kept me in check. He hated when I became irrational, and angering him in any way made me feel terrible.

In other words, he had me completely, utterly whipped and wrapped around all of his tiny little fingers.

And right now, he needed me more than anything.

The door of my master bedroom banged against the wall as I bursted inside the room, the force of it causing the handle to carve a deep dent in the beige walls. Benji was busy flitting around the California king sized bed that Berlin and I shared, tending to my mate who laid on his side, tears making vertical lines across his face as he panted and cried out in pain. His stomach was distended to the point where he could only drape one of my button-ups over his arms, but even that had been strewn across the bed as he writhed around in the cream sheets. 

Benji's mate, Tank, stood to the side, watching over the room in a protective manner. Tank was a hulking figure - much larger than his tiny mate - dressed in a terrifying ensemble of all black, and painfully quiet. He reminded me of Corey in many ways, which made sense, seeing as to how he was also a warrior of the pack. He was known for being ridiculously overprotective of Benji, to the point of threatening any male that dared look below his waistline, but his mate absolutely loved the attention.

Despite his protective attitude, everyone knew that Tank loved Benji more than anything, as he was the only family he had left. Tank joined our pack as a preteen, my father had given him a home after it was discovered that his entire family was killed by rogues fueled by bloodlust. 

We were around the same age, and growing up with him was like growing up with a depressed broomstick. He didn't do much more than sulk around all day, except for on Tuesdays, when the hyperactive Benji visited from the neighboring pack. The first time I saw Tank smile was when he first met Benji, not even wasting time for formal introductions and instead engulfing the small male in a bear hug. Everyone thought that he loved Benji because he reminded him of his family, but once Tank reached teenage years it became obvious that his infatuation with Benji was anything but familial. 

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