I Was The Only Omega In The Beast World-Chapter 95: CP: Pregnancy Contraction

Six Hours Later:

The contractions started just after sunset.

Not the practice ones Alex had been feeling for days—these were different. Deeper. More purposeful. Like his body had finally decided it was time.

"Mira," he gasped, pressing a hand to his belly as another wave hit. "I think—I think it’s starting."

The healer was at his side instantly, her experienced hands checking, assessing.

Her expression grew serious.

"You’re right," she said. "Early labor has begun. The cubs are coming."

All three mates moved simultaneously—Naga’s coils tightening protectively, Leo’s hands finding Alex’s, Zale surfacing with wide eyes.

"How long?" Naga demanded.

"Hours," Mira said. "Possibly twelve to twenty-four before active labor begins. But it’s happening. Tonight or tomorrow, those six cubs will be born."

She began giving rapid instructions—preparing the birthing pool, summoning additional healers, organizing supplies.

The settlement transformed around them, the entire mer-tribe mobilizing to support the bearer in labor. And Alex lay there, surrounded by his three mates, feeling the inevitable approach of something both terrifying and miraculous.

Six lives, about to enter the world.

One family, about to be complete.

[CRITICAL QUEST: "The Six Cubs’ Arrival"

Status: ACTIVE

Timeline: 12-24 hours

Complications: Multiple birth, first-time delivery, Snakelings

Support System: 3 mates (optimal), 1 master healer, entire mer-tribe

Success Probability: High with current support

Stakes: MAXIMUM]

[HOST,] System said softly.

[This is it. Everything we’ve worked for. Every stone collected, every territory crossed, every impossible decision made—it all leads here.]

[You ready?]

"No," Alex admitted, as another contraction rolled through him. "But I’m doing it anyway."

[That’s my Host,]

System said with something that sounded almost like pride.

[Let’s bring these cubs into the world.]

****

The contractions continued through the evening—waves of pressure that built slowly, peaked, then receded like tides. Not unbearable yet, but insistent. Impossible to ignore.

Alex found himself pacing when he could, despite Mira’s protests about conserving energy. Sitting still felt wrong when his body was demanding movement, demanding he do something to help this process along.

"Walk if you must," Mira finally conceded. "But stay in the chamber. And someone supports you at all times."

That someone rotated between his three mates with careful precision.

Naga took the first shift—his serpentine lower half coiled loosely around the chamber’s perimeter while his humanoid upper body stayed close, one hand always on Alex’s lower back, supporting him through each contraction.

"Breathe," Naga murmured as another wave hit. "In through your nose, out through your mouth. You’re doing perfectly."

"Doesn’t feel perfect," Alex gasped, gripping Naga’s arm as the pressure intensified. "Feels like my body is trying to turn itself inside out."

"That’s fairly accurate, actually," Mira said from where she was organizing supplies. "Your body is preparing to push six lives out. Since they’re just serpent cubs, you’ll only face some discomfort. "

"Some discomfort," Alex repeated incredulously.

"This is ’some discomfort’?"

Mira’s expression softened slightly. "Wait until active labor begins. Then you’ll understand the difference between ’discomfort’ and ’actual pain.’ What you’re feeling now is your body stretching, opening, preparing. The real work comes later. It might be even harder since you’re a male. "

" You knew?" Alex asked.

" Of course. I knew. I’m your healer after all. I’ve had years of experience on helping other give birth. I can tell on a first glance whether they’re male or female."

" But I must say it is my first time for a male though. So embrace your self for the pain."

[She’s not wrong, Host. Current pain level: 4/10. Active labor will be more like 7-8/10. Your body is being surprisingly gentle so far.]

"Gentle?," Alex muttered.

Another contraction rolled through—stronger this time, lasting longer. Alex found himself doubling over slightly, breathing hard through it.

Naga’s support immediately shifted, taking more of his weight, one hand rubbing circles on his lower back while the other held Alex steady.

"That one was stronger," Naga observed, his voice tight with concern.

"They’re progressing," Mira confirmed, checking something on a timer she’d set. "About seven minutes apart now. Still early labor, but moving along nicely."

"Nicely," Alex echoed weakly as the contraction finally released. "Why does everyone keep using pleasant words for this extremely unpleasant experience?"

"Because you’re doing it," Leo said from where he sat nearby, his golden eyes tracking Alex’s every movement with fierce attention. "Even when you’re complaining about it."

Despite everything, Alex managed a small laugh.

The hours crawled past in a strange blur of sensation and waiting.

Contractions came and went—five minutes apart, then four, then three. Each one lasting longer, demanding more focus to breathe through.

Leo took over support duties when Naga needed to eat and restore his energy. The lion’s hands were steadier than Naga’s, his voice deeper and more grounding when he murmured encouragement.

"You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met," Leo said quietly during one particularly difficult contraction.

"You know that, right? You fell off a cliff, nearly drowned, floated down a river, and you’re still here. Still fighting. Still bringing our cubs into this world."

"Didn’t have much choice," Alex managed through gritted teeth.

"You always have a choice," Leo corrected. "You chose to survive. You chose to accept help. You chose to do whatever it took to protect these lives. That’s strength, Alex. Real strength."

The contraction peaked—and Alex found himself crying despite trying not to, overwhelmed by pain and emotion and the sheer enormity of what was happening.

"I’m scared," he admitted in a whisper.

"I know," Leo said, pulling him into a careful embrace. "I’m scared too. But we’re doing this together. All of us. You’re not alone."

When Zale took his turn, the mer-prince’s approach was different—cooler, literally and figuratively, his hands perpetually damp from the water, his presence calming in a way that was distinctly ocean-like.

"In the ocean," Zale said softly as Alex worked through another contraction, "when storms come, we dive deep. Below the surface chaos, there’s stillness. Quiet. That’s where you need to go right now—into that deep place where the storm can’t touch you."

"I don’t know how," Alex gasped.

"Close your eyes," Zale instructed. "Focus on my voice. Imagine you’re underwater. The contractions are just waves passing overhead—you can feel them, but they can’t pull you under. You’re anchored. Safe. Deep."

Somehow, impossibly, it helped.

Not completely—the pain was still there, still demanding—but Zale’s ocean imagery gave Alex something to hold onto, a mental space to retreat into when the waves became too much.