Chapter 28

Willow jerked awake from her dream, frowning at the realism of it. It had been bad enough going through the experience of Ella and Trevor’s decision the first time. But now she was dreaming it. She would bet those two brand-new parents were dreaming it, too, if she thought either of them were sleeping.

She looked at her phone. Five in the afternoon. They’d arrived the night before at two in the morning, Ella had delivered at just before three, and they’d retreated to the waiting area, ending up sleeping in chairs, when first light had broken over the horizon. The storm had blown itself out.

One look around the room told her the surgery was still going on, over twelve hours later. No one had heard anything. Some of the males were sleeping in chairs themselves. Others sat in chairs and stared at nothing, none of them speaking. Mac and Rogue were propped against each other in a corner, and Bruin, her Bruin, was next to her in a chair, his shoulders upright enough that she guessed he was meditating rather than sleeping. The unknown male across from Willow, wearing a police officer uniform, had his eyes closed and his head down, but his lips were moving quickly, reciting something. Praying.

Willow didn’t need her power to sense the emotional undercurrent of the room. They were all terrified.

After Ella had been sewn up, Bruin had been able to step back, the energy softer and easier to remove. Willow had “woken” Ella up and the decision Ella had been forced to make haunted Willow again, playing through her mind.

Trevor exited the sterile room, his face grim, rubbing a hand over his features. He approached his mate and took her hand that Cerise handed over to him. “We have to decide.”

Willow made to pull back, but Ella grabbed her hand and squeezed. Willow stayed, realizing Ella would still need her.

“Tell me,” Ella breathed, worry, fear, anxiety, and flat emotional pain swirling through her. Willow combed the emotions out of her sister as best she could.

“The doctor says he thinks the male is the better choice. He’s a bit bigger, he’s got a slightly larger portion of nerves innervating his heart, his lungs are more developed.”

Ella squeezed Willow’s hand, hard, and Willow caught snips and snaps of memories and tragic emotions, most of them belonging to Ella’s mate, but routing through Ella, and now through Willow. Trevor had been a conjoined twin, and he’d had this exact surgery. The doctor had said only one of them could live. He’d been chosen to live, while his sister, Treena, had been chosen to die.

Willow gasped, realizing what decision Trevor and Ella were being called on to make.

Ella shook her head, her eyes clear, her expression calm, as a warm rush of something fell into her, routing through Willow. The fear and anxiety Willow had been drawing out of her stopped, and all Willow could feel from Ella was a resoluteness. A knowing that came from something bigger than all of them. “Tell the doctor to divide them equally. They both will live.”

Trevor shook his head. “Ella, the doctor said-”

Ella cut him off, but not in mean way. “Trevor, can you decide? I know your parents did, but I want you to look inside your heart, and tell me what it says. You’re out here asking me to make this decision because you can’t. I’m telling you that you don’t need to. I-.” She faltered here, and Willow felt her indecision, not over what she was saying, but why she was saying it. She didn’t know.

But Trevor had already stood tall. “I’ll tell them,” he said, and back into the room he had gone.

Willow had stayed with Ella for hours, but eventually her energy had flagged. Ella had seemed fine, just waiting, like all the rest of them, for news, and so Willow and Bruin had looked for a place to take a time out, as Dahlia and Cerise had moved in to take her spot.

Willow sighed and settled in to the back of the chair, getting as comfortable as possible, which wasn’t very comfortable, about to close her eyes again, when she heard a noise she couldn’t quite make out.

Bruin’s eyes flew open. “Is that a baby crying?”

Willow held her breath. Was it?

The sound grew louder, until Willow knew definitively, yes, it was a baby. She shot to her feet. “They did it-” Around her, most of the room did the same.

The sound of a second baby’s cry joined the first, overlapping it, harsher somehow, like it was more indignant.

“Oh my God,” Willow cried. She could feel the stark relief of Ella and Trevor, even from outside the room, and it was enough to knock her toward the ground. Bruin was there to catch her, to keep her on her feet.

They rushed to the room and opened the door, slipping inside as the others in the waiting room shuffled, wanting to do the same, but knowing they should not.

Two identical-looking human babies lay in warmers next to each other, faces fat and pink and pissed as they screamed. Both had tubes running from their bodies in way too many places, but both glowed red with health, chubby hands waving in the air.

Trevor was laid across his mate’s bed, his head on her chest as he sobbed. “You were right,” he said over and over. “Thank you,” he finally whispered as tears rolled down his cheeks. “Thank you for saving both young.”

Ella ran her fingers through her mate’s hair, whispering soothing things to him, but her eyes never left the two babies in the two warmers.

Wade pushed away from where he was standing, his face resolute. “I must announce the good news.” He laid a hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “Trevor, do your pups have names yet?”

Trevor grasped Wade’s hand and spoke into Ella’s chest, visibly pulling himself together. “The male pup is Track.” He pushed himself upright, wiping his face, squeezing Ella’s hand once, then walking to the babies. He placed his hands on the warmer holding one of the babies, who was wearing a pink infant cap. “And this,” he said, his voice strong, “this is Treena.”

Willow couldn’t see the thought-forms of anyone in the room through the tears in her eyes, but she could feel them. Relief. Triumph. A communal spirit of longing, fulfilled. A female wolfengel. A new species, upon which the hopes of humanity were hinged.

Wade strode to the door, ripped it open and held up his hands. “The pups live,” he shouted, “and they are strong. One male, one female, both born at the exact same time.”

The room beyond erupted in cheers and whistles as males slapped each other on the back and gave high fives. Lorna, Wade’s mate opened a window and stuck her head out. “They live, they both live, and they are strong!”

The cheer that rose from outside shook the small building.

History. Hope. For too long, the two had not been entwined, but now they collided, and everyone felt it.