Page 380 of Bride of Choice

“Not Kirch’s,” Jeh-kal grumbled. “Jo’s baby. MINE.”

Kirch frowned and his gaze darted from me to Celuk. “Kirch hold baby, yes? Kirch good with babies. Kirch loves Kirch’s Princess Lottie.”

My hands slid over Celuk’s and I laughed. “Oh my god, this kid is going to be spoiled rotten from every angle.”

A startled noise and a loud crash from the right hall had me jumping.

A shout issued and then it sounded like a drunk bear was stumbling its way down the hall.

“No mean wake,” Kirch called out.

“Rek hear- Rek hear- Rek think Rek hear-”

I wasn’t prepared to see Rek looking so thin, large sections of his body absent of fur. His chest was the worst. Not only was it angrily red with an odd, large round spot but it was completely hairless and I could clearly see his ribs.

Rek stumbled into the room, gripping the wall to hold himself up. He blinked owlishly once, twice. Spying me, he froze. Whatever he’d been about to say died on his lips. “Hoh- Hoh-” He kept making that soft sound, over and over again.

Holding my hands out, I approached him slowly. When I was right before him, only a few feet separating us, I tried to smile, ignoring how lopsided it felt, and would have reached out to touch him but he quickly jerked away.

It was disheartening to see him like this and near impossible not to take his reaction as a rejection.

“Hey,” I mumbled awkwardly.

Rek leaned around me. His gaze went from Kirch, who nodded encouragingly, then Celuk, who did the same, and finally Jeh-kal, who seemed to be the one to snap Rek out of it when he barked something at him that had Kirch and Celuk snorting in response.

Rek moved in closer, bent his tall frame, and stopped just shy of pressing our foreheads together.

Throat working convulsively, he slowly closed his eyes and started whispering something in Lo denaii.

“Not dream.” The way Celuk spoke to him, softly, with such care, made me love him all the more.

Reaching out, I lifted my hand. Rek flinched right as my fingertips touched his cheek.

Still chanting to himself, now louder, faster, I went for broke and smoothed my fingers up the side of his face and into his hair. “I’ve missed you, tube sock,” I teasingly taunted.

A garbled purr warbled to life in his chest and proof of his disbelief slipped from his cheeks. “No want wake up this dream. No want wake up,” he croaked out hoarsely.

“You’re not dreaming.” I didn’t know how else to convince him.

Kirch made a lip smacking sound.

With a fuck it shrug, I grabbed his face and mashed my lips to his.

Rek’s eyes snapped open and his arms wrapped around me. “MINE,” he growled out so fiercely, his purr so loud as it cranked up it drowned out all else, I couldn’t help but grin against his lips.

When he would have picked me up, I stopped him. “You haven’t been feeling well and I’m frah-jeelay!”

Rek grunted and pulled back. I knew the moment he took note of the scars on my face. Leaning in, he sniffed at them but dismissed them just as quickly.

“Where? Where my Jo has jeelays?” he grumbled. Following up with, “What that? What jeelays? My Jojo no’ smell sick.”

“Jo belly jeelays,” Kirch offered.

“Belly?” Rek grumbled, right as I muttered, “I was getting to that, big mouth.”

Rek dropped down, looking like he’d collapsed to the ground more than any sort of graceful maneuver. His hands slid up my stomach. His fingers stilled as they encircled that bump.

Yanking my shirt up, he pressed a kiss to my belly, choked purring noises leaving him, and then gently smushed the side of his face to my belly and wrapped his arms around me to clutch me to him via grabbing my ass.

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