Page 105 of What a Wolf Demands

She smiled, then stepped into his arms. “I won’t break, Dom. And, yes, I’m sure.” She looked off to the side. “Right?”

Lizette stepped into view, a big smile on her face as she nodded. “Positive. I kept sensing a double heartbeat, then I realized I was picking up two. It’s still early, so it’s impossible to really hear. But Healers can sense the energy signature.”

He swung his gaze back to Lily. “But . . . how? We, uh, we didn’t—” He stopped. He’d been about to say “we didn’t mate” but that was wrong. Realization crept over him. Lily wasn’t a latent—there could be no doubt about that now. As for mating, they’d checked every box there, too.

Still, it didn’t make sense.

“We just said our vows today.” He’d thought he heard something in the forest—the telltale whispers of the lux catena. But how could Lily be pregnant when they hadn’t been truly bound until that moment?

Damian’s deep voice rumbled nearby. “This is probably a good time to mention that witchborn don’t need the lux catena to take a mate. The usual rules don’t seem to apply to us.”

Lily turned. “But can the mate bond still work for us? Is my life bound to Dom’s?”

Dom held his breath. It didn’t really matter if the lux catena had sealed their fates together. He was all in with her regardless. But she’d spent her whole life thinking she was a latent—had nearly been killed because of it. She deserved everything werewolf life had to offer. If the bond was important to her, he’d do whatever it took to get it for her.

But Damian smiled. “That’s what’s fun about being a half-breed. It all depends on your ancestry and how much you inherited from each side. Some of us are more like the witches, who typically marry for political reasons. But others derive more of their genetics from the wolf side. Both of your parents were wolves, yes?”

“Yes,” Lily said.

“Then I’d say the lux catena will definitely work in your case.” His mischievous smile from earlier appeared. “Although it might be a little weird.”

Lily turned back to Dom and gave a small shrug. “I guess if I’m already weird I might as well go all the way.”

Dom threaded his fingers into her hair, loving the way the bright strands sparkled under the light. “You’re not weird, sweetheart. You’re wonderful.”

And she was pregnant with his child.

It didn’t get any better than that. It really didn’t.

“Are you happy?” she asked, a glimmer of what might have been anxiety in her eyes.

Was he happy? She had to be joking. He took her face in both hands, then looked directly into her eyes so there could be no question about his feelings. “Lily my love, there are no words to describe how I feel. I think if I tried my heart might explode.”

Remy muttered, “Well, don’t do that, Prado. Someone’s gotta be around to pay for the kid.”

Lily let out a soft laugh.

Dom smiled. See, he thought, he did smile. Remy and the others were full of shit.

Lily sobered. “Dom? I’d still like to Turn. Lizette says it’s totally safe at this stage.”

His gut clenched, and he felt his whole face threatening to collapse into a frown. “I don’t think—”

“It’s actually for the best,” Lizette said, her pretty face open and kind. “She needs to learn how to change while she still can. Before the baby gets too big.”

The baby. Holy shit, he was having a baby with Lily. He was going to be a father—something he’d never dreamed possible.

A lot of impossible things were happening lately. And he was so damn grateful.

Lily took advantage of his silence, turning to Lizette and saying, “Let’s do it.”

Before he could protest, they were back in their chairs, eyes closed and faces locked in concentration.

Oh god. Should he do something? Was Lily putting herself or the baby in harm’s way? Reality crashed over him. He was now responsible for keeping a tiny being safe. Something shifted inside him, and he knew in that moment that he’d do anything for that being. His heart truly wasn’t large enough to hold all the emotions coursing through him.

Movement caught his eye.

The skin on Lily’s arm bubbled—the first sign of the Turn.

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