The pains started last night. They gnawed at my back, making me stop and bite at my lip. I didn’t want to say anything yet. They were so far apart I knew it wasn’t time yet. I didn’t want to spend more time than I had to in the hospital, surrounded by the doctors with the white coats and cold, alcohol-smelling hands. So I didn’t tell Parker. I just smiled and did my meditations and tried to push the pain to the back of my mind.

I was watching a show on the video screen. It was something I almost never did, and Parker gave me a strange look when I suggested we spend the evening watching something together. But he gave in, like he always did, and found a nature show about twittery, colorful desert birds for us to watch. Parker made us snacks and settled onto the sofa with me. I really just wanted an excuse to lie here on the sofa and put my feet in Parker’s lap.

“They really make their nests inside the cacti like that? Huh.” Parker munched on a handful of popcorn. “Fascinating.”

“Uh huh,” I murmured. Always the scholar, my Parker. Always interested in learning something he didn’t know, adding knowledge to the sponge he called a brain. Well, it looked like I had something new for him to learn. Right now.

“Parker,” I gritted.

“Yeah?” His eyes were still trained on the video screen.

“I think we need to go.”

“Where to? You want to go eat? We could order something.” He poked more popcorn into his mouth.

“No, the hospital, I think.”

“Why’s that?” He was still absorbed in the program.

“Because my water is about to break.”

“About to… holy—” Parker jumped up, pushing my feet off his lap. “Just… how do you know it’s about to?” He grabbed my hands and helped me haul my baby bulk up off the sofa.

“Oh…” I pointed down. The front of my pants were dark now, water leaking down the front.Parker pulled up my shirt and saw the dark red line running under my navel. “Why didn’t you say something earlier? I know you noticed the line.” He sounded angry I didn’t mention my birthing line to him.

“I wasn’t ready and I didn’t want to worry anyone.”

“It’s started to split?” he asked anxiously.

“Well, yes, if my water is leaking,” I said with patience.

“Right. Let’s go then.” He grabbed my wrist and started to haul me to the door.

“Wait. Parker, wait. Let me change and get my bag.” I pulled my hand away from him, rubbing at the red mark on my wrist.

“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll get your bag, you change, quickly.” He ran off to the bedroom like he was afraid I’d change my mind.

In just a few minutes, we were in the elevator and headed to the lobby of the building. Parker had already called the car around and had set in coordinates as ‘emergency, man in labor.’ As much as I didn’t like the city, there were things about living here that far outweighed how we did things in the valley.

The car zipped around other vehicles on the road, ferrying us to the hospital by the quickest route possible. It glided up to the door of the labor and delivery wing. Nurses already were waiting for us outside, and the doors popped open with a hiss. Parker hurried around to my side and helped me to my feet. A nurse with a gliding, electric chair stepped forward and Parker lowered me into the chair and slung my bag over his shoulder. We followed the nurse inside the sliding glass doors and down a long corridor, into a waiting elevator.

When we finally reached the room where I’d give birth to my child, I was happily surprised. While it was bleached and sanitized, it wasn’t cold. The room was warm, and the lights had been adjusted to throw a pleasant, yellow glow across the walls. There was a large window, the blinds open to reveal the tops of several trees and a patch of blue sky with fluffy clouds skimming across. There was even a patchwork quilt spread on the bed.

“Oh,” Parker said when he noticed me looking at it. “Mom found it. She thought it might make you feel more at home.”

“That was very sweet,” I said. I ran my hand over the quilt and felt tears pricking in my eyes at her kindness.

“Okay, sweetie, let’s get you changed.” The nurse was moving around efficiently. She handed me a gown, this one not plastic, but soft cotton instead. I moved gratefully to the attached bathroom and shed my clothes, which now felt pinching and constricting, and slid on the hospital gown.

Once back in the room, the nurse helped me into the bed and moved around me, attaching various monitors to me, tucking the quilt around my feet, and handing me a small cup of water to sip on. “The doctor will be right in to check you,” she said, and quietly shut the door behind her as she went back out into the corridor.

Parker was tapping furiously at his phone.

“I guess the entire family knows now? Parker?” I pursed my lips at his scattered attention.

“Ummm… yes. But I told them not to come down here yet, that we’ve just checked in and that baby Lauren is hours away.” He slid his phone back into his pocket and sat gingerly on the edge of my bed.

“Lauren? We never really discussed names.” I mulled over Lauren in my mind.

“It doesn’t have to be Lauren. It was just a thought I had,” Parker said quickly.

The past five months had gone so quickly, we really didn’t have time to think about names.

“How about… Laurel? There is a bush that blooms in the higher elevations near my home with lovely blossoms,” I said after some thought.

“What color are they?”

“Pink,” I said with a smile.

“Sounds perfect,” he said.

That was the last time I smiled for the next twelve hours.

The pains were excruciating. They tore at my back and my stomach felt as if it was going to split my body in half. I breathed, trying to let my mind go with each new pain that tore across my belly. Parker stood at the head of the bed, his thumbnail clenched between his teeth. I wanted to tell him to stop but he was a grown man. He could deal with his anxiety on his own at the moment. I was a bit busy.

Finally, when even the meditations couldn’t calm me anymore, the doctor came in.

“Good, good, good,” he said jovially. “Everything looks wonderful. We’re going to have us a pup here soon.” He rubbed his gloved hands together gleefully.

“Parker,” the doctor said, “what I want you to do is… stay out of the way. Shiloh is going to do all the work. You just stand there and act supportive. Got it?”

I saw Parker nod out of the corner of my eye.

“Shiloh, what I want you to do is bear down. You’ve got to help this seam split so we can get this baby out.” The doctor’s hands probed at my belly and I hissed in pain when his fingers hit the birthing line. “We could have given you pain medications, but you opted for the natural version of this.” He smiled at me over my belly and I wanted to punch him in his face.

Wow, where did that come from?

Parker snickered and I knew he heard the thought. I wanted to punch him, too, for putting me in this situation. He took a half-step away from the bed, out of arm’s reach.

“Okay,” the doctor said from below my waist. “You’ll feel the pulling. When you do, I want you to bear down, feel the seam splitting open. Scream if you need to. We’ve all heard it before.”

I did feel it, like my belly was trying to wrench itself open from opposite sides. It tugged and burned and I threw back my head and let out a howl.

“Nice job,” the doctor said. “Now get ready again. And… now!”

The pains came again. Over and over they came, and it felt like my stomach was splitting open in ragged millimeters. Finally, when I couldn’t take anymore, I heard it. The tiny, bleating cry. Miraculously, the pain was gone. I heard sobbing above me and realized that it was Parker.

They laid her on me, a tiny, mewling, warm bundle of baby, pressed against my chest, her itty-bitty hands searching, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Oh, my sweet gods.” I kissed the top of her little wet head over and over, wrapped my hands around her fragile body, and held her close to me. I was never, ever going to let her go.

I felt hands on my shoulders. Parker. Without taking my eyes off my baby, I whispered to him, “Thank you for this.”

His tears wetted my hair.

* * *

The doctor was talking to me but I wasn’t paying attention. I was still concentrating on my baby, my little Laurel blossom.

“…herbs from the pack healer.”

I finally glanced up. Parker was standing next to the doctor, holding out a packet. The nurse’s nose was wrinkled slightly but the doctor appeared to be listening. Finally, he nodded his head. “Yes, it will be fine. I’m familiar with this. I did my residency out in the valley. They follow customs we’ve lost to technology in the city, but it’s not harmful, and in fact might help in recovery. Nurse, a cup of hot water for tea.” Then he congratulated Parker, stripped off his gloves, and left the room.

“You brought them,” I said, when Parker sat on the edge of my bed. His fingers lightly followed the shape of Laurel’s tiny head.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I knew you’d want them. Shiloh…”

“Hmm?” I was getting tired, everything around me fuzzing out slowly.

“She really does have green eyes.” He sounded astonished.

“Did you really have any doubt?”

“I… I did. I thought it was just the tea.” He was stroking the baby’s tiny fingers.

“Now your doubts are gone.”

“They are. I won’t doubt your abilities again. Ever.” His eyes were locked with Laurel’s green ones now. Her tiny, rosebud lips pursed and Parker laughed. “Did she just blow me a kiss?”

“Probably.” I smiled. “She loves you already.”

“I love her, too.”

We were wrapped up in our baby when the nurse came back with the hot water. Parker thanked her and dropped in a small bag of the herbs. Then he stuck a straw in and brought the cup over, holding it to my lips so I didn’t have to take my hands off the baby.

The herbs began to take effect. I could feel them, healing me from the inside, warming my body, knitting it back together. I knew it wouldn’t be exactly the same as it was before. There would be marks and scars. The red birthing line would likely never completely fade, not without some sort of cosmetic surgical intervention, but I didn’t care. I’d gladly bear a body full of scars and marks for my tiny girl.

The herbs relaxed me and I started to drift off. I made a small noise when Parker picked up the baby but he only moved her to a tiny bassinet that was attached to the edge of my bed. I rolled over and placed my hand on her, feeling her small chest moving up and down with her sweet little breaths.

I opened my tired eyes and gazed at her. Her beautiful emerald eyes were looking right into mine. And they were deep. Ocean deep, universe wide, and wise. I could see generations of shifters, past and future.

And I felt the tug of her gift. She was like me, but even more powerful. She would be. A seer born from a seer. Rare and beautiful. The first girl in generations in her alpha father’s family. She was special, this tiny, wrinkly, mewling baby. And she would be the bridge between the past and the future.