Page 60 of Omega Hunted

I glanced at Cassian. He was looking at the table, jaw set, giving me nothing either way.

“Yes,” I said.

“Good. One contraction, or more than one?”

“One.”

“How long did it last?”

“Maybe thirty seconds. Less.”

“Where did you feel it? High, low, across your back?”

I thought about the pain. “Low. Across my abdomen.”

“Any bleeding? Any fluid? Any sensation of release or wetness that wasn’t normal?”

Fuck. Maybe I needed to rethink Cassian being here to listen to this. “No.”

“Has Asha been moving normally since?”

“She kicked me a moment ago.”

“Good. That’s good.” He paused. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad was the pain?”

I thought about it. “Six. Maybe seven.” I had no concept of the pain that would be a ten but knew I’d get there before my beautiful daughter was born. “It took my breath away.”

Across the table, Cassian had gone the color of old plaster. He’d pulled a notebook from somewhere and had it open in front of him with a pen in his hand, writing down what was said in small, even script. His shoulders had squared, and I watched him underline something twice and felt an absurd rush of gratitude for him doing this, because I was overwhelmed.

“Okay,” Brec said. “Here’s what I think you’re dealing with. One contraction at your advanced stage, no follow-up, no fluid, active fetal movement—that’s consistent, especially given the physical stress you’ve been under. Your body’s recalibrating.” He paused. “That said, I want to be clear about what we’re watching for. Cassian, are you writing this down?”

“Yes,” Cassian said.

“Good. Soren, if the contractions come back and they’re three minutes apart or less, or if they last more than a minute, or if you have any fluid or bleeding, that changes everything, and we’re in a different conversation. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“How are you feeling right now? Honestly.”

I looked down at Asha, steady under my hand, and thought about the shower and the pain and the way it had eased and not come back. “Scared,” I said. “But okay.”

“That’s the right answer,” Brec said. “Cassian, the timing sheet I sent you—page four. Start logging any further contractions immediately. Duration, intensity, interval.”

Cassian was already turning pages.

Chapter Twenty

CASSIAN

Soren excused himself as soon as the call ended, and I wanted to tell him not to go to his room and lock the door, just in case, but he was pale and exhausted. I followed him upstairs with snacks and water and put everything by his nest.

“Soren—”

“I promise I’ll shout if I need you.” It was as if he could read my mind.

He tugged my sweatshirt down around him as he climbed in with my help.

“Do you want me to shut the door?” I asked.