This isn’t right. It isn’t right. This is no place to give birth to my young. The pain from them coming causes me to roar. I inhale air as I try to breathe through the pain. My talons slip out and I claw the surface of the bed hating the chemical stench of the sheets. My young cannot be born here. They will not be safe. If I have them here I will not be able to protect them.

I want to sag in relief as the pain subsides. Looking around the room I can see my mate as he stands there. I want him to help me but know...