Chapter 6: The Birth

The new rule went up on the clinic door on a Tuesday, in Jessamy's round handwriting.

Only the Alpha's mate and the healer were to attend births.

A young guard stood under it with his eyes on his boots.

"I'm sorry, Luna," he said to Rosalind. "I was told to stop you."

"You're doing your job," Rosalind said kindly. "Don't be sorry."

She went back to the pup school and taught the afternoon reading lesson.

She was cutting out paper moons when the first she-wolf ran in from the yard.

"Luna. It's the young one from the north cabins. Her time came early, and it's not going right."

Rosalind set down the scissors.

"Who's with her?"

"Agnes. And the new Luna."

The she-wolf was crying, though she was trying not to.

"There's so much blood, Rosalind."

Rosalind was already walking.

The guard was still at the clinic door.

He looked at her, then at the corridor behind him, where a long, thin cry rose and fell.

He stepped aside without a word.

Inside, the birthing room smelled of copper and sweat.

A young she-wolf lay on the table with her fists in the sheets and her hair stuck to her face.

Agnes stood at her head with both hands on her shoulders.

Jessamy stood at the foot, still in her white coat, holding a towel.

She had gone a blotchy, frightened color.

"I read about this," she said. "I read it. You're supposed to tell her to breathe."

"The cord is around the pup's neck," Agnes said, low and flat. "Its heart is slowing. I can't turn it from this angle. My hands are too stiff."

"Then call the doctor from town."

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