Trig, Nickolai and Blain paced the ground outside of Grange and Dawn’s cabin restlessly. Each of them tensing and growling with every pain filled moan that came from inside.
“I hope she’s okay in there.” Trig stated nervously.
“Women have been doing that for ages, she’ll be fine.” Nickolai replied, though the shakiness in his voice and the paleness of his cheeks betrayed his words.
“I remember when my mate had our child. She was so strong and managed the pain while I felt nauseous, helpless and nearly passed out.” Blain stated. Nickolai and Trig looked over at him.
“You never mentioned having a child before.” Trig informed him and Blain shrugged with sadness as he ran his hand through his chin length blond hair.
“I no longer have a child.” he replied. “Faugrimm and his men took care of my son at the same time as they took care of my mate.”
The three men fell into silence once again and then they skidded to a stop, nearly running each other over when Farrah stepped out onto the porch, looking pale and little worse for wear.
“How’s it going?” Trig asked shakily as he went to Farrah and wrapped her up in his arms. She shook her head and pointed her finger at his face.
“If you ever do that to me, I will kill you.” she warned and Trig chuckled humorlessly.
“That good, huh?”
“Grange…” Dawn gasped as another pain washed over her, her stomach tightening and her toes curling as she gripped his arms tightly.
Grange kissed her sweaty hair, fighting back the growl that wanted to form in his throat. He was sitting behind Dawn in the bed and she was laid against his chest and wrapped tightly in his arms. He longed to take her pain away and wished for the millionth time in the last few hours that he could do just that.
“I’m here, love.” he replied gently.
“I know you are.” Dawn ground out and then she sighed when the pain eased momentarily. “Why do I have to feel all the pain? Women don’t have it fair. You men get to have all the fun of creating the baby and then we get all the pain of getting it here!” The last word came out higher pitched and louder as another pain washed over her, this one stronger than the last.
Grange bit his lip when her nails dug into his skin, tearing flesh and drawing blood as she growled.
Right, the men felt no pain. He’d be sure to remember that once the youngin’ was here and his arms looked like pincushions.
Brie walked in from the kitchen with Anika on her heels. Anika had a damp towel and she handed it to Grange who used it to cool Dawn’s heated brow.
Brie raised the sheet covering Dawn’s legs and then looked up at Dawn and Grange.
“It’s time, Dawn. The next time you feel the pain you can push.”
It took a long while but finally the sound of tiny cries filled the air. Dawn felt tears running down her cheeks as she and Grange’s tiny son was lifted into the air and then laid against Dawn’s bare chest.
Grange felt his own throat clogging with emotion that he quickly grunted to try to clear away. He looked down at his sons face, those blue eyes open wide and staring straight back at him. Soft black hair covered the boys head and Grange was instantly in love.
“We’ll leave you alone.” Brie said as she headed for the door that Anika had already walked out of. “I’ll let everyone know that you’re both fine.”
“Thank you, Brie.” Dawn replied, thankful that she’d had the woman around. Brie had had a lot of experience being a nurse maid and midwife with her old pack and those skills had proved useful the last few months.
“What should we name him?” Grange asked quietly as he ran a calloused knuckle over the softness of his sons hair.
“You get to name him.” Dawn replied. “I’ll name our daughters.”
“Thought you said you’d kill me if I got you with child again?” Grange reminded her with a low chuckle. Dawn looked at the bloody spots on his arms from her nails and felt guilty.
“I hurt you.” she whispered and Grange kissed her temple.
“I’m tougher than I look. I promise.” Grange looked down at his son and his mind raced as he tried to think of a name that would suit someone so perfect.
“Creed. I think Creed is a good name.”
Dawn couldn’t stop her tears and she swiped her hand across her tear soaked cheek as she sniffed.
“You want to name him after my brother?”
“Yes.” Grange replied. Dawn had told him all about her brother. He had been a man with demons but a good man who had loved his sister and whom Dawn had loved in return.
Dawn smiled and kissed her sons brow.
“Welcome to the world, Creed Michaels.”
“Seems like your life is complete, Grange.” Brendon said matter of factly as Grange entered the barn later that evening. Brendon had been staying in the barn the last months. Nickolai and Brie had their own cabin as did Trig and Farrah and Anika and Blain.
The cabins were far enough away to offer privacy to their occupants but still within hearing distance should danger arise.
“Yep.” Grange agreed as he took a sugar cube from his pocket and held it out to his horse.
“I think it’s time for me to be moving on.” Brendon added.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.” Grange replied. Brendon sighed and pulled off his hat, running his hand through his brown hair.
“I’ll check in from time to time, Grange. Make sure everything is still going good for ya. I got a message not long ago about a vampire I need to take care of.”
“Back to work then?” Grange asked and Brendon nodded.
“A man’s gotta make money somehow.” he replied with a smile. “I’ll see you around, Grange.” Brendon led his already saddled horse from the barn and then jumped on and rode off down the road.
Grange watched him until he disappeared and then he heard his sons hungry wails coming from inside the cabin. Everyone else had already gone to their own cabins and so Grange had his mate and son to himself.
He smiled and walked inside, eager to curl up in the bed and hold his world against his chest.
A/N: This is the end of 'Lone Wolf'. Be sure to check out the spinoff/sequal to this story entitled 'Hunting the Hunter', it is Brendon's story but has familiar faces as well :)
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Lone Wolf (First in Lone Wolf Series)Werewolf
Set in the 1860's or so! The life of a lone wolf is a dangerous one. Holding onto your territory without the help of a pack can prove to be deadly. Grange Michaels has managed to do that for years. This tiny western frontier town is his. Those he c...