CHAPTER TWELVE

RILEY

I don’t regret this.

I don’t regret this.

I don’t regret this.

I don’t regret this.

I don’t regret this.

This chant plays non stop in my head as I run out for the fourth time since we got here, to vomit, probably, the last batch of the little food I forced down my throat this morning.

I get to the open field in front of the house, race to the root of the tree where the previous contents from my mouth had been disposed.

I open my mouth, willing my gag reflex to draw out the vomit. But nothing but a loud belch comes out.

I guess my stomach is now emoty after vomiting for three times.

Not tgat I had eaten much earlier in the day. The thoughts of the pain that I would see on the delivering woman’s face, all those blood and the bloodied pup, has had my stomach tightened since last night.

But when Jude summons me from thr kitchen, which I have returned to and now settled into as my own space, to come have breakfast with him at the dinning, all thoughts of not eating keft my mind. It was a struggle, but I had eaten a few spoons.

Me not eating would, maybe, bither him and when he asks and I tell him its based on what he has tild me to overcome, he will be disappointed. So I did the exoected.

I ate.

I don’t regret this.

I had agreed to join the delivery committee. And the smiles and cheers I had received from the women, egged me on. I had been so happy and determined.

But now…

I don’t regret this.

The odd looks and frowns the other women of the committee give me any time I return to the delivery room after my vomiting spree, does not hide their thoughts on how I am disorganizing the delivery process.

How am I to remain immune to the womans pain which she voices out with earth shaking screams? Like tgere is blood everywhere, I feel I could drown in it.

I don’t regret this.

It has been two months after the creation of this committee. Two months in ehich we erected this building behind the base as the delivery room. Two montgs of training from the midwife.

Two months. But I still don’t think I can do this.

A loud scream from the room greets my ears and I gag.

I know I have to go back in there, but I don’t want to. But I have to.

I am Luna.

I can do this.

I can do this.

I can do this.

My chant changes as I walk into the room.

My wolf senses take in the strong smell of blood in the air. The very pregnant and very in pains woman is on her back on the tiny leather bed. A high pillow lifts her head a little.

That lifting makes her face evident to all in the room. I can read the dilation of her pupils, the grinding of her jaws, the squeezing of her eye brows.

And I read excruciating pain.

When will this end?

Everyone ignores me as I stand in the corner watching them get tiwels, tell her pleasant things, wipe away her sweat, and very many other things. Things, which I don’t get involved in.

For the good of evperyone, I just watch.

Even from this distance, I feel my stomach rumble its disapproval.

Probably noticing presenice, as a wolf’s senses go hyper when in pain, the woman turns to look at me, with tears in her red eyes.

Is it so painful as to make a grown woman cry?

More painful than shifting?

Would I ever permit myself to go through such pain?

Maybe.

For Jude.

“You are doing well. Very well. Your pup’s head is already almost out.” The midwife, who has her head in the space in between the woman’s leg, urges.

Okay.

A hoarse “Hmm.” Is the woman’s only reply.

“So now, cchannel all your wolf energy and give me one last push. If it’s hard enough, it would be the last.”

Wait. There is more?

“Can you hear me?” the midwife asks.

With her eyes still on me, she gives a weak nod.

“Can you do it?”

Her face scrunches and she closes her eyes as she shakes her head.

Then I hear laughter. The midwife and the other three women have their teeth in full display in loud laughter.

Is this funny? Because I don’t get the joke.

“You will do it.” My voice comes out, authoritative.

The room goes still. The laughter stops. The woman’s eyes returns on me.

I had made myself invisible all along, so I don’t blame yhem for getting shocked at the sound of my voice. I too am shocked. My mouth had acted without my brakn’s consent.

“Now push.” The midwife orders.

I can’t say if she draws motivation from my face, and if so, its sad because I lost all motivation once we walked into this room.

Maybe she likes me.

I am luna.

I remind my self and give her an encouraging wmile.

I feel strong.

Her focus trained on me, I notice tge changes on her face as the scream rises from her chest.

I have tge strong woman smike still on my face as I fight my senses, trying ti blur out her scream and the pain I see on her face.

I remain composed till my ears are greeted by a loud cry. I tense and check, but its definitely not from her.

My eyes fly up to see the tiny creature in the midwife’s hands. The pup has been delivered.

It looks so tiny as it wiggles while screaming the room down. And it is has blood all over.

Like that, the strong woman vanishes.

My hands fly to my mouth and I run out of the room.