Rubbing my chest, I sit back on the couch, too uncomfortable to sleep right now. For the last couple of days, my chest has been obnoxiously sore and sensitive. Whenever my shirt even brushes up against my nipples, I feel pins and needles, and it is driving me absolutely crazy.

So, I am out in the living room, wrapping myself in a soft blanket and hoping that I will become tired enough to ignore the annoyingness of my chest and sleep.

Footsteps sound on the stairs just when I am settled, and it only takes a couple of seconds for the person to wander into the living room. Taylor looks over at me with tired eyes before settling down onto the couch with a fussing Rosalie.

"Why the hell are you up in the middle of the night?" he asks, readjusting the squirming baby who almost falls out of his arms.

Shrugging my shoulders, I slouch back into the couch, trying to ignore the pain the movement caused me. Taylor notices though and is immediately more awake.

"Something's hurting you, isn't it?" he asks, his eyes slanting in scrutiny.

Shaking my head, I open my mouth to tell him everything is fine, but before I can, Rosalie lets out an even louder cry. Taylor immediately looks down at her, his eyes softening.

"Oh, I know, sweet girl, you're absolutely starving aren't you?" he asks, an amused smile on his face. Rosalie lets out an answering cry, and Taylor hands her to me while he wiggles out of his sweatshirt. The baby looks at me with watery eyes, before rubbing her head on my chest.

And that's when I feel it. A pinch, and then wetness.

Taylor takes Rosalie from me while I sit there in shock, not sure what to do about my current predicament. The cries quickly cry down once Rosalie is latched on, her eyes immediately dropping as she eats.

Taylor grabs a blanket off the back of the couch and wraps it around him and the baby before relaxing completely into the cushions. It takes him a few minutes to notice my state, though, and when he does, he looks over at me in worry.

"Micah," he says, his eyes running over my body as if searching for the reason behind my quietness. "Are you alright?"

My hands find their own way to my chest, pressing against my sore nipple, before quickly drawing my hand away when wetness appears on my shirt.

Taylor follows my movement and lets out a quiet, "Oh," when we see the darkness spreading on my shirt. "That would explain the sore chest."

"Thought it was just the heartburn again," I mumble, and Taylor just looks up at me with a skeptical brow.

"This is why you need to tell me these things, so I can tell you how ridiculous you are being."

"Hey," I say, pulling my blanket back around me which is hard to do with an almost six-month belly. "It isn't like I have done this before."

Taylor's gaze immediately softens, and he gives me a reassuring smile. "That really is why you should tell me when things are happening to you, Micah, so that I can help you navigate this new territory."

Slowly, I nod my head, before the realization of what is the really happening causes me to start asking questions.

"What the hell?" I ask, but not excited enough to move out of the rather comfortable position I have found myself in. "The baby isn't even here yet, why is my milk coming in already."

Taylor readjusts Rosalie after giving a small shrug of his shoulders. "Sometimes it does that. Mine came in early, albeit only by a week or so, but this isn't something to be worried about. Your body is just preparing."

"Well, what the hell am I supposed to do to make it stop?" I ask.

Rosalie unlatches then, almost completely asleep. Taylor looks at me, silently asking if I want to hold her, and a give a small nod of my head. I need all the practice I can get when it comes to taking care of a baby before my own gets here. She snuffles a little bit when she is transferred from her father to me but eventually falls into a deep sleep.

"There isn't much you can really do to stop it," Taylor says. "Honestly, you're probably going to get engorged since there is no baby to nurse yet, so I would recommend trying to massage the area and try to get the milk out. You'll be more comfortable with them being more empty."

"I'll have to do this for the rest of the pregnancy?" I ask, the disdain clear in my voice.

Taylor nods his head, watching his own baby with a fond smile. "Until you have a baby to nurse, then you are going to have to do it yourself."

My eyes fall down to Rosalie, whose little face is scrunched as she rubs her head against my chest, but she is too tired to cry. Eventually, she settles down, her little mouth parting as she falls into a deep sleep.

"She is searching for mine and Tate's scent," Taylor says, eyes watching the both of us. "It calms her down whenever she is near it, but she is getting better with letting others hold her when she is hungry and tired."

My eyebrows scrunch in confusion. "Scent? I didn't know that babies were comforted by scent."

"It is more of a werewolf thing, wanting to be close to the ones who protect and feed you, but human babies have the same instinct as well, albeit not as strong."

"That makes sense, I guess," I murmur, settling back into the couch. My eyes are heavier than before, and having the weight of Rosalie on my chest is actually comforting, rather than uncomfortable. Taylor seems to be in the same predicament, his eyes already closed as he lays back on the couch.

Pretty soon, I find myself drifting to sleep, the comfortable feeling of floating coming over me, and with one last sigh, I allow myself to relax.

*****

Something snaps me awake, and immediately I am on alert. My heart is pounding so hard that I fear it may make its way out of my chest, and it is difficult to catch my breath. Anxiety is flowing through me, making me tense in anticipation.

Something is wrong, something is really wrong.

Rosalie wakes up from my movement, letting out a discontent cry. Hurriedly, I hand her over to her now waking father, knowing that I cannot hold her right now.

"Micah?" Taylor asks, sitting up from the couch. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Jesse," I ask, my voice cracking.

"What about Jesse?" he asks, worry creeping into his tone.

Shaking my head, I push myself up from the couch, and Taylor quickly follows suit. "Something is wrong, he's in danger," I say, my words coming out so quickly, I am almost tripping over them.

"What?" Taylor asks, shaking his head in confusion. "No, Micah, it was probably just a bad dream is all." He rests his hand on my shoulder giving it a soft squeeze. "Come on, sit down, you need to calm down before you have a full blown panic attack."

I wrench my shoulder away from him, pushing myself towards the door. It is as if something is pulling me, and I have no choice but to follow.

"No, something is really wrong," I say, tears spilling over and trailing down my face. "I have to help him."

"Micah," Taylor says, his voice cautious. "Come on now, you're starting to worry me."

"I-I have to go," I say, quickly sliding on my shoes and the jacket hanging by the front door.

"Wait, Micah, hold on." Taylor tries to get a hand on me to hold me back, but I squirm away. "You can't go out there. What if he really is in danger, you could get hurt."

"I can't stay," I whisper, giving him one last glance before running out the door.

"Micah!" Taylor yells after me, Rosalie's cries echoing through the dark woods. It has to be early morning, almost dawn, meaning that there is barely any light to see by. But it doesn't matter, something inside me is guiding me through the woods and closer to the main gate.

The closer I get, the more I can hear the groaning of infected. I push myself to go faster, knowing that Jesse has to be in danger, especially if there are infected involved. It is a bit hard to run when I am pregnant, but I push through the discomfort, knowing that my mate needs help.

"Jesse?" I call out, once I am about ten feet away from the fence.

"Is that Micah?" a familiar female voice asks.

Not hesitating once I reach the fence, I hook my fingers over the top and pull myself up enough so that I can see, and I nearly faint from the sight. There, standing along the other side of the fence, is Jesse and Alexis, both of them shooting me a confused glance before returning their eyes to the approaching infected. There have to be at least twenty of them, three of them being infected wolves.

"Micah, get out of here," Jesse says, his voice harsh, "before you get hurt.

Shaking my head, I let myself drop back down to the ground. "I am not letting you go this time, Jesse. Deal with it."

"Micah, I swear to god..." Jesse doesn't finish his sentence, though, instead focusing on the rapidly approaching infected.

"Come on," I say, unlocking the fence and pulling it open about a foot. "Get inside before they get here.

Alexis shakes her head, her body tense in anticipation of a fight. "With this many of them, they will easily break down the fence, and we can't let them onto the territory."

"You're going to get yourself killed!" I yell, heart pounding.

"Better me than everyone else," Jesse says, and Alexis nods her head in agreement. "But take him at least, Micah, he doesn't deserve this." And with that, my mate hands me a wiggling something swaddled in a blanket.

"No no no," I say, barely registering when Jesse pushes me far enough back so that he can close the fence, placing me behind a safeguard. "This isn't how it works. We are supposed to be in this together."

My tears are falling more quickly now, but before I have time to respond, a barking makes its way to my ears. Turning around, my heart soars at the sight in front of me. Alpha Seren and the rest of the pack are quickly approaching, with Meeka leading the way.

"Micah, what the hell is going on?" Ethan yells.

"Infected," I say, stepping away from the fence so that they can get by. "So many infected, and they are trying to attack Jesse and Alexis."

They don't ask any more questions, instead quickly opening the gate and allowing it to open enough so that they can get through. The infected are much louder now, seeming to be happy with the prospect of even more fresh meat.

My pack members don't waste any time, joining the fight that Jesse and Alexis had just begun. Peeking through the open fence, I watch as the infected are quickly picked off. My pack members work together with familiarity, easily able to take down the human infected. The real challenge is the werewolf infected, who put up more of a fight. It takes three of us just to kill one of them, but steadily, they are also taken out.

After about ten minutes of fighting, all of the infected now lay on the ground, torn apart and no longer able to attack us. Everyone is breathing heavily, trying to recover from the attack that just happened.

"Did all of them just follow you here?" Erik asks, moving over to one of the infected and kicking at it. "How did you gather so many of them?"

Alexis shakes her head. "The hell if we know. One minute we are walking down the road here, and the next we are being chased by these guys."

"We took out a few of them but more just kept coming," Jesse says, crossing his arms.

Alpha Seren seems to be thinking hard about something, his face stony as he looks over the infected covered path. "We are going to have to strengthen the area. Maybe put up some more deters that will hopefully keep most of them away."

"Well then," Ethan says, looking over everything. "Let's get all of these dead fuckers rounded up and then we can go back to the house.

Tate walks over to me, his eyebrows scrunched in worry. "Micah, why don't you head back, let Taylor fret over you since he is so worried."

"Maybe I should," I whisper my eyes fixed on Jesse. My mate surprised me when he gives me a small smile, his eyes fixated on my bump. Nodding my head, I turn around and start the half a mile walk back to the house.

It is only when I am almost there that I really look down at what I am holding, and it makes me stop in my tracks.

"What the hell," I whisper, pulling back the blanket to look at the scrunched up face of a baby. And the baby looks young, really young. Like maybe they were just born, young. "Why does Jesse have a baby with him?"

The baby rubs their face against me, and I can tell they are scenting me. They seem to find comfort and settle down, face pressed against my chest.

My head is spinning, trying to come up with the reasoning behind this small person's appearance. I force myself to start moving again, wanting to get back to the comfort of the house. And knowing Taylor and how much he worries, I am going to be in a world of trouble for putting myself in danger like I had.

My thoughts are confirmed when I reach the house, where Taylor quickly swings open the door and pulls me inside, wrapping me in a tight hug.

"Taylor, careful, don't crush the baby," I say, words muffled by his hair.

"Your baby is fine, I can't crush them when they are still inside you," he says, giving me one last squeeze before pulling away.

"No, not that baby," I say, before nodding down at the infant in my arms. "This baby."

Taylor's eyes widen marginally in shock when I pull back the blanket, revealing the infant. The baby scrunches their face before settling down again when I rub my finger along their cheek.

"Jesus, Micah, where the hell did you find a baby?" he asks, quickly taking the small infant from me and walking towards the basement, where all of his medical supplies are located. My arms feel empty without the baby cradled against me and I have to force myself not to snatch them back. Instead, I just follow Micah through the house.

The infant starts snuffling as Taylor holds them, rubbing their face against his chest. They must not find what they are looking for because they let out a loud cry. Taylor tries to shush him, but the infant isn't relenting.

"It's okay," Taylor croons, settling the baby on his legs while he does a quick medical check to make sure everything is alright. Without looking away from the baby, Taylor asks me to get some diapers and some clothes for the infant, and I quickly do so, trying to suppress the shudders running through me from the baby's cries.

It is so strange, especially since I have never acted this way whenever Matty or Rosalie cry. But it seems different this time.

I return back to the room in a little over a minute, handing Taylor the supplies. He quickly gets the diaper and the onesie on the squirming infant, before cuddling the infant close.

"He is malnourished, probably hasn't eaten in a while," he says, lifting his shirt and allowing the baby to rub his face against his chest. The baby doesn't even bother to latch onto Taylor, despite the fact that he has to be starving. He just turns his head whenever Taylor brings him close to his nipple.

"Come on, little guy. I have some milk for you," Taylor croons, but it is no use.

Before I can stop myself, I snatch the baby away, pressing him close to me. The baby rubs his face against my chest, calming down enough so that his cries become more like little hiccups.

Taylor pulls his shirt back down and watches me rock the baby with curious eyes. Standing back up, he leads us back upstairs. He doesn't say anything until we reach the top of the stairs. "Why don't the two of you go upstairs and get some rest. I'll bring up some breakfast in a little bit." He has a knowing look on his face but leaves me to take the small baby upstairs.

Once I reach my room, I quickly strip out of my shoes and jeans, leaving me in just my t-shirt and boxer briefs. Making my way over to the bed, I pull back the covers before settling down into the comfort of the mattress.

The little baby starts to snuffle at my chest again, and I don't even hesitate to pull up my shirt and pull him closer. He rubs his face against my chest before finding my nipple and latching on, his swallows heavy as he drinks.

"Oh," I murmur, not knowing what else to say. His eyes start to flutter as I rub my fingers over the light brown hairs on his head. He is so small and I can't help but want to keep him safe.

It feels weird, though, to have a baby nursing on me. To be honest, I thought it was a little strange when Taylor tried to nurse him, thinking it weird. But whether it was because Taylor was nursing a baby other than his own or because I felt the need to nourish the little baby, I don't know. Because this just feels right.

Soon enough, the little baby falls asleep, taking lazy swallows every once in a while. I am just drifting off as well when I hear a soft knock on the door. Taylor pokes his head in when I don't say anything, and a smile spreads across his face.

He walks into the room, setting the tray laden with breakfast down on the bedside table before sitting on the edge of the bed. He doesn't say anything about the baby still latched to me, just pulls the blanket up so that we are covered.

"I think this is a scent thing," he whispers, pulling out his medical bag and slipping on a stethoscope. He breathes against the bottom, warming it up so it won't be so cold to the touch, before pressing it against the baby's back.

"What do you mean?" I murmur, hand settling on the baby in comfort when he stirs from Taylor's inspection.

"I'm not positive," Taylor says, sitting back on the bed and pulling the stethoscope away. "But if I had to guess, I would say he is drawn to you because you happen to be Jesse's mate. Baby werewolves are more perceptive to these kinds of things than even we are, kind of like how people say children are more sensitive to things others can't see. So, he knows that you will take care of him because your mate has been caring for him since they found each other."

"That makes sense, I guess," I murmur. "But what does that have to do with him not wanting to nurse from you?"

Taylor nods his head. "Remember how I said that Rosalie only wants to be held by me or Tate when she is hungry or tired? I think the same thing applies here. He doesn't want to nurse from someone other than a person he associates with safety. Rosalie or Matty wouldn't nurse from anyone either than me or Liam, and I guess this little guy associates you with being his caregiver."

"Oh," I say again.

Taylor just gathers up his stuff before standing back up. "It sounds weird, I know, but sometimes you just have to embrace the weird. Because this little guy has made up his mind, and now he will refuse both me and Liam." He walks over to the door. "Now, eat your breakfast and get some sleep." With that, he steps out of my room, closing the door quietly behind him.

I look back down at the little baby, watching as he curls closer to me. He is small enough that he is settled above my bump, and I press a soft kiss against the top of his head. Well, it looks like there is a new pack member.