“Your heart picked up,” Ellen said, rolling to rest her chin on his chest. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
He stared at her. “Or you could read me.”
“I shouldn’t have done that.” She bit her lower lip, her finger stroking along his chest. “I’m no better at this than you are. Talking and sharing and…and feeling.”
There was no denying his smile. “You do fine.”
Her gaze sharpened, her heart picking up as she whispered, “I need to do better.”
He ran a hand over her head. “Not for me.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it, her gaze searching his. “Not for you. But for our baby.”
He stared at her, too stunned to think or speak or move or breathe. How could she be pregnant? They’d agreed to wait. They’d agreed Cyrus needed to be out of the picture before they had a family. They’d been careless, but he’d made sure there wouldn’t be consequences.
Why the fuck was his wolf so happy? So damn happy. He wanted to be, but he…he wasn’t sure what he was. A groan slipped through his lips, harsh and broken. Words stuck in his throat.
“You’re angry?” she whispered.
Was he? “No,” he managed, flexing his hands. “No,” he repeated, more firmly this time. Surprised, yes. In shock, hell yes.
“I couldn’t take it. The pill.” She lifted her chin, defiant and beautiful. “I didn’t believe I, we, would ever… And if there was a chance we’d make a child—” Her cheeks were blazing red. “I couldn’t take it.”
According to his wolf, her rationale made perfect sense. If the roaring in his ears would stop, maybe he could be logical. It didn’t stop. Neither did the uneven thump of his heart. Or the shallow, rapid pattern of his breathing. She was pregnant. And all of his concerns about his inability to protect her, to fight the Others, to be a worthy fucking wolf reared up with a vengeance. “You can’t fight.” He growled.
She bristled. “I can.”
“I know you can. Dammit, you know what I mean.” He never raised his voice, but, right now, he was tempted. He growled again, swallowing back most of it. “You couldn’t take the pill because there was a chance we’d made a child. Now you tell me there is. You won’t put him—her—in jeopardy. I won’t let you. I’ll make fucking certain Finn won’t let you.” He paused, watching her closely. “I can’t handle that. My wolf can’t handle that.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she leaned into him. “Because you love us.”
Heat rolled over him, from head to toe, before lodging in his chest. It was there, as sure and real as the bond they now shared. Love. Another word that didn’t come close to the way he felt about this incredible—incredibly frustrating—woman. His nod was stiff. “This isn’t about the survival of the species, Ellen. This is about our…baby.” Her and his. His wolf longed to howl, announcing their news to the world. He cleared his throat. “Promise me you won’t fight.”
She ran her fingers through his hair, her mismatched gaze searching his. “I promise you.”
The fight drained out of him. “I’ll hold you to that.” His hands cradled her cheeks. She carried his child. “A baby.”
“Your baby,” she said, placing his hand against her stomach. “What a child we will have.” Her smile took his breath away.
He crushed her against him then, overwhelmed by pride and excitement. He was going to be a father. He was happy. And terrified. This child would be a wolf, something he knew far too little about. But he had time to change that. He might never shift, but he was a wolf and it was time to accept that. His wolf was more than ready.
“Are you happy?” Ellen whispered against his chest. “I am, Hollis. I don’t remember ever being so happy.”
That made him very happy. “Yes,” he murmured against the top of her head.
But now it wasn’t just him. It was Ellen.
Their child. And this child would be something Cyrus wanted, and Hollis was powerless to protect. His wolf was up, pacing and alert, assuring him that he’d survive a shift to protect his mate.
…
Hollis didn’t let her out of bed. Not when Mal came to ask about dinner, not when Mal and Olivia left to return to the refuge, not when room service brought them dinner on the following day. He—his wolf—wanted to show her how pleased this pregnancy made them.
Apparently, they thought keeping her lost in a sensual haze of pure pleasure was the best way to do that. She agreed. Hollis had spent hours raining the sweetest torture down on her, making every inch of her overstimulated and aching. Even when he wasn’t buried inside her, he kept her tight against him. She was boneless, sore, and throbbing…and delighted by the way he claimed her.
His wolf was more present than ever, speaking to her wolf—confiding in his mate. He longed to run with her, worried about his inability to shift, and was tormented by his inability to protect her and their baby. His wolf fought to get out, tearing him apart in his need to protect her.
Deep down, Ellen feared the same thing. But whether or not he could shift wasn’t relevant. She would never put herself in danger that way.