[Rosco’s POV]
A bloody, red light bleeds into the room around us, coloring the floor and furniture to match the mood of the evening. On the bed, sitting in the middle of the room, Denali groans with pain as sweat covers her forehead and her body tenses.
“Just a bit more,” Cecile, Denali’s midwife, announces. “I can see the head.”
“You’re doing wonderfully,” I murmur, brushing a few strands of hair off her soaked skin. “Keep pushing, and soon it will all be over.”
Nodding, Denali bites her lower lip so hard that it begins to ooze blood from being torn.
As I watch, my heart squeezes painfully, and I find myself wishing that I could take away all the pain that my mate is feeling, but I know in the end she wouldn’t want it that way. Her body was doing an amazing thing, and I would worship
