Page 42 of Rathgar

My comm unit buzzes while I ping Soren. I don’t expect him to pick up, but Janie needs proof from someone other than me.

“What’s your status?” Soren’s clipped, formal voice crackles through the tiny speaker.

“Target eliminated.” Man, it feels good to say that. “I’ve got Janie. How about you all? You all right?”

“All accounted for.”

“Is Lara there? Is Iris okay?” Janie speaks up. “We just saw the compound, and I thought…”

“Don’t worry,” Soren says. “They’re here. They’re fine.”

Janie’s still frowning, but I know she trusts Soren. We will all be together again soon. But in the meantime…

“See you back at the ship?” Soren asks. “Or you taking your own way back?” There’s a subtle hint of something mischievous on top of his usual formality.

“We’ll be along later,” I say, schooling my expression to give nothing away. My heart’s still racing, but this time it’s for a totally different reason. If we hadn’t arrived in time, I could have lost Janie forever. Iris, Lara, all of them…

I couldn’t deny my feelings any longer. “There’s something I need to take care of,” I tell Soren. “We’ll regroup with you all as soon as possible.”

“Over.”

With a beep, the call ends. When I turn my head, Janie’s got her eyebrows raised in question. “What is this you ‘needed to take care of’?”

“This.” And with a grunt, I pull my omega against me, crashing my lips against hers.

It’s so fervent, almost animalistic in its intensity. I groan into her mouth and pull her ever closer, fingers running through her hair as she links her arms around me. I’ve missed this so much. And now she's here in front of me, all soft touches and warm smiles and the proud swell of her belly pressing against me. It's a constant reminder of our connection to one another, proof that one day soon, I'll be a father.

But no, that's not quite true either, is it?

I already am a father. Maybe not to my own, biological child, but I love Iris just as much as one of my own. She's wiggled her way into my heart, and there's no way I'm letting her — or her mother — go.

Finally, I break the kiss and look into her eyes. The fear's all gone now, and all that's left is a warm, steady affection that lights me up from the inside out. "I love you, Janie." I say. "I can't imagine my life without you." I pause. I've never been good with words. In the end, I go with my heart. "I know I'm not the best man or the best alpha, but you and Iris are my world. I dedicated myself once to my planet, and now I'd like to make a promise to you all over again." With a deep breath, I get down on one knee and look up at her. "Janie, will you be my wife?"

Her face is frozen in shock, and I don't blame her. It's not exactly the most traditional proposal. I mean, I've still got blood on my clothes, and there's a body lying a few meters away.

But somehow? It feels right. My heart thuds in time with hers, and there's no longer any doubt in my mind. My Janie is my heart-mate. Now and forever.

Her beautiful face breaks into a smile, and she buries herself in my arms all over again. "Yes," She says through choked-back tears. "Yes!"

"Good," I mumble against her hair. I'm kissing every bit of skin I can reach. She's laughing, squirming, and smiling and I want to remember this moment forever. "Cause there's one more thing I need to do."

"And what's that?" She asks, already breathless from my kiss. And we're just getting started.

"Time to seal the deal." And I lower her to the ground with a triumphant, adrenaline-fueled passion that rivals even her heat cycle. There are no hormones or shots or serums to blame our feelings on this time. This is all us, all real. And I can't stand being apart from her a minute longer.

She's alive, the baby's safe, and our enemy is gone. Laying in a pool of his own blood just feet from where we're fucking. It feels so wrong, so dirty, but the bloodlust, relief, love, and pure carnal need makes for an intoxicating cocktail.

Janie responds to me just as fiercely, if not more so. She even uses her teeth to pull at my bottom lip, hands and soft nails digging into my flesh to beg for more, more, more.

And of course, I'm happy to oblige.

It's not the most graceful of couplings. Nor is it the most tender or the longest lasting. It's fast, hard, and frantic with endless streams of IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou punctuated by moans and thrusts and panted breaths. We're both so glad to see each other, so glad this is over, we pour all our frustration and fear and rage into the act, and when I howl out my release, I don't care if the whole damn galaxy hears us.

I'm making love to my omega, my wife-to-be, and no one is going to take her away from me ever again.

Mentally, I swear to her that we’ll build our own happy ending.

CUTTING FRUIT

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