The Rise of the Omega Supreme

(POV: Lina)

5 months later:

“You look so beautiful, Lina,” Nicollas says, his hand gently caressing my belly as he feels the babies moving non-stop.

“I’m only getting fat! Your pups are wreaking havoc on me!” I exclaim, stroking the head of my mate. We’re lying in bed because I can’t move much due to the size of my belly.

It feels like I’ve eaten three extra-large watermelons. I can’t even see my feet!

“To me, you’re perfect, and my pups have made you even more perfect,” Nicollas says, charmingly, kissing my belly and then taking my lips in a sweet and tender kiss.

My siblings (the ‘failed projects’) are now part of our pack. The moon goddess made them like me, but they became omegas. Yet, they’re happy to have a dignified life now, which also makes me very happy.

I gaze at my belly. In the past month, I’ve had to walk hunched over with my hand on my back. But I feel so happy that I wouldn’t trade this for anything!

“What are you thinking about?” Nicollas brings me back to reality by kissing the tip of my nose.

“About how we’ve spent these last few months.”

“And what conclusion have you reached?”

“I’m scared,” I admit.

“Scared of what?” Nicollas sits on the bed, looking into my eyes.

“I’m afraid someone will ruin our happiness,” I say, tears welling up in my eyes. Something inside me tells me that something bad is about to happen.

“Don’t cry, my Luna. We will be happy, and I won’t let anyone hurt you,” Nicollas promises as he embraces me. I feel so safe in his arms that I eventually fall asleep.

*3 months later:

I wake up sweaty and trembling, my belly hurting intensely.

“AHHHH!”

“Lina?” Nicollas calls out, still half-asleep as he sits up in bed.

“It hurts, Nicollas, it hurts,” I say, tears streaming down my face.

I sense Nicollas’s hand between my legs, and once again, a sharp pain shoots through my belly.

“AHHHH!” I scream in pain.

“Lina, your water broke. The pups are coming. What do we do now?” he says in panic, running his hands through his hair.

“Call the midwife,” I manage to say through the pain.

“I’ll do that.”

He gets up from the bed, goes to my dresser to grab his phone, and dials a number.

“I need you right now!… My wife is in labor! You have to come now!… I don’t care about the time. Tell that to my kids who are about to be born… You’re useless,” Nicollas hangs up the phone and returns to the bed. “The midwife said she can’t come.”

A wave of anxiety washes over me. Now what? What do we do now?

“Call Sophie, Nicollas.”

“But isn’t she pregnant too?”

“Yes, but hers is due in two months… AHHHH!”

“Alright, I’ll call her,” Nicollas says, getting up and rushing out of the room.

“Calm down, my loves, why the rush?” I say, passing my hand over my sore belly, but another wave of pain hits me.

Each contraction is like an avalanche of pain crashing mercilessly against my body. I’m submerged in a sea of agony, where each wave of pain seems worse than the last. My hands grip the bed sheets tightly. Fingers digging into the rough texture as I try to find some anchor in that storm.

My body trembles in response to each spasm, sweat dripping down my forehead, forming small pools on the pillows. Every muscle feels stretched to the limit, as if being pulled to the point of breaking. My breathing is erratic, tears flowing from the corners of my eyes, a mixture of fear and pain tearing through my soul.

I try to focus on counting breaths, a distraction from the agony, but the pain is so unrelenting that it’s hard to think of anything else. My mind is a whirlwind of sensations, each one more intense than the last. I’m lost in a whirlpool of suffering, desperately longing for relief that seems unattainable.

(POV: Nicollas)

I rush through the house and head to Sophie’s place. Over the past few months, I’ve actually been getting along pretty well with Albert. I don’t pick on him as much as before. Sophie is pregnant too, and from what Albert said, it’s only one baby.

“SOPHIE! SOPHIE!” I shout desperately. After all, it’s not every day my kids are born.

“I’m coming!” I hear Albert’s voice, and a few seconds later, the door opens.

“Why are you here at this hour, Nicollas?” Albert questions, his face swollen with sleep.

“I need Sophie’s help. I know she’s pregnant, but my kids are being born, and I don’t know what to do,” I say, running my hand through my hair.

“Is Lina in labor?” Sophie appears at the door. As I try to answer her, we hear a loud and strong scream from my house, and Sophie’s eyes widen. “Let’s go, we need to help her.”

Sophie tries to walk fast, but because of her large belly, she struggles. Albert picks her up, and we move as quickly as possible. We arrive at my house, and the screams are getting louder. We take Sophie to the room, and she kicks Albert and me out. I wouldn’t mind getting kicked out, but as the father of the babies, I’m not too thrilled. I leave without complaining because Lina told me to, even though I’m irritated, I do what she asks.

(POV: Lina)

“Lina, calm down, breathe!” Sophie instructs, and in that moment, I want to smack her. Here I am, feeling pain like hell, and she’s telling me to breathe? “I’m going to remove your panties,” Sophie informs me, lifting my nightgown. “Looks like that won’t be necessary,” she adds, realizing I’m not wearing any.

Sophie arranges me on the bed and helps me spread my legs wide.

“Push, Lina,” Sophie guides, looking at the space between my legs.

“AHHHH!” I scream, pause for a moment, and try to catch my breath. “AHHHH.”

“That’s it, Lina. I can see the baby’s head. Push harder!”

Damn her! Push harder, huh? It’s easy for her to say. She’s not the one giving birth to more than one baby. Holy moon, today I’m so irritable.

“AHHHH,” I try to catch my breath again, “AHHHHHH!”Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

With each new contraction, my body writhes, and I let out muffled screams, mixing incoherent words with distressed moans. Words of encouragement around me sound distant, muffled by the deafening roar of pain. I’m sinking into an abyss of torment, not knowing how much longer I can endure.

A blend of adrenaline and exhaustion courses through my body, like a last gasp of energy. I know I’m close, that

the climax of this battle is in sight. My screams turn into primal roars, and I channel the pain into a fierce strength I didn’t even know I possessed.

I feel pressure and effort building up to something beyond the pain. A sharp, high-pitched cry cuts through the air, a sound that doesn’t seem to belong to this world.

“It’s a boy, Lina!” Sophie announces.

I look down and see that tiny creature, red and wrinkled, covered in blood, yet astonishingly perfect. The unbearable pain gives way to a mix of elation, relief, and an overflowing love.

Still panting, my eyes meet my baby’s, and in that moment, I know every moment of pain was worth it. Every contraction, every agony, it all fades away in the face of this new beginning, of the life now resting in my trembling hands.

Sophie places him next to me on the bed. I gaze at my firstborn son and a smile forms on my lips, but it soon fades as the painful agony returns.

“AHHHH, holy moon,” I gasp, “AHHHH.”

“That’s it, Lina. I can see the head of another one.”

I continue screaming for a few more minutes, stopping when I hear a slightly louder cry this time.

“It’s a girl!” Sophie exclaims. I don’t have the strength to lift my head, but I manage to see her place my baby daughter next to my son. I feel my heart beating stronger, my children are so beautiful, even covered in blood. I try to touch them, but the pain returns.

“AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH,” this time I don’t even try to breathe, the pain is too intense, “AHHHHHH,” I let out one last scream and hear the sound of a faint cry, not as weak as the first baby’s.

“It’s another boy, Lina!” Sophie says, tears in her eyes, and I cry tears of happiness for my children.

Sophie helps me position the firstborn for breastfeeding, then the second, and finally, the third. As I hand each one over, Sophie takes them, cleans them, and when we’re done with all them, she leaves the room to call Nicollas.

I gaze at my children, each wearing the necklace that Nicollas and I had made for them: a black and white wolf pendant on a gold chain. It looks so beautiful on them.

Nicollas and I have already chosen their names. The oldest is named Luan Raphael, the girl is Renata, and the youngest is Lucca.

I stop admiring them when I sense a shiver down my spine and a cold breeze blowing through the window.

“Well, well. Look what we have here.”

This voice… it can’t be.