Dax didn't even blink.
"If it is false labor," he said, already reaching for his phone anyway, "you may bite me twice."
Chris narrowed his eyes. "I hate you being calm."
"I'm not calm."
That was true.
His voice was stable. His hands were stable. The rest of him had fallen into that cold, terrifying stillness that Chris had come to recognize as Dax's most focused state.
Rowan was already on the line before Dax needed to ask.
"The birthing team is moving," he said. "The chief physician is on his way. The surgical suite is being prepped in case they need it."
Chris looked at him flatly. "You're all traitors."
"Yes," Rowan said. "But organized ones."
Another contraction hit.
This one was worse.
