Page 90 of Vicious Wolf Mate

I stroll up to the bed. Mace scoots to the edge of the mattress and hugs me. He hugs me tight like he doesn’t ever want to let go.

I can tell by the way he looks at me he can sense that something is wrong, something has me rattled. “What’s wrong, McKenna?” his eyes are bluntly asking without words.

“I know I look rattled,” I tell him. “Marrying you was the greatest thrill for me, my grandest honor.”

“I don’t know how you look so beautiful every morning,” Mace tells me. “Every day you are an absolute doll more than you were the day before.”

Mace leans back in bed, and I lay back beside him, my hand on his chest. I can feel his heart beating, his warmth, his strength. I feel safe. I want to cry, and I want to tell him, but I want to tell him and have the cry part happen somewhere else, some other time.

“I suspect I look like a cat who swallowed a canary when I came out of the bathroom,” I tell Mace.

He stays quiet for a moment before answering. I can really hear the wheels spinning inside that hard-as-cement skull of his.

“Boy or a girl?” he asks after a long pause, once again reminding me we are so connected, more and more communication is happening telepathically. Of course, he would know I am carrying. I am his mate.

“This one’ll be a girl,” I tell him. “A total daddy’s girl.”

“I see. I was thinking you would have a son. He will be your champion. The opposite of old Rovas. Help you get back some faith in mankind.”

“Fat chance,” I tell him. “Half shifter, half human Alpha. Shit, we are leading the arrival of a new era.”

“I believe you,” Mace answers. “If the new arrival is a girl, like you are prognosticating, I will be her only boyfriend, period, until she is at least thirty. After thirty, she can start dating. Maybe, we’ll see how I feel.”

I want to laugh. I want to laugh and tell him that I love him, tell him that I feel so safe. I can’t. The tears start flowing, hot and silent down my cheeks.

“Are we going to make it, babe?” I ask. I don’t know why. It sounds horrible, so insecure.

“I won the Lotto with you, and I know it!” Mace tells me. “I am living the life of Riley.”

Mace stops right after saying Riley. It is a sudden stop, so I look up at him to see if he paused for effect or if he’s paused for some other reason. His cheeks are covered in torrents of tears.

“You are my mate,” he tells me. “In many dreams I held you near, now at last you’re really here. This is our wedding gift from the Universe. Our gift is the privilege of ushering in a new arrival.”

“I know we will start dreaming of the babe,” I tell him. We’ll start seeing him or her in dreams. Talking, laughing.”

“You are correct,” Mace tells me. “Watch this next waxing gibbous moon. The closer she gets to fullness, the more we’ll start dreaming of our new arrival.”

The End

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