Page 110 of Labor of Love

“I know you’d love to hear that he was ecstatic,” I say, smirking, “but really, I laid a lot on him and he needs time to process everything we talked about. I’m not sure he hung ontohalf of it. The only thing he grasped at the end was that we were leaving in two short months and not returning.”

“Poor love,” Daunt says.

“We’ve always talked about having a pack,” I remind them. “He wants one. Always has. You are our pack, and I know he’ll agree.”

“Where is Iri now?” Daunt asks.

Frowning, I look toward the bedroom door. He’s been gone for twenty minutes. That’s far longer than it takes to perform a test. “I’ll call you back.”

I don’t end the call, but drop my phone onto the desk and head for the bedroom. The bathroom door is still shut. My gut twists because I know what I’m going to find. Iri, on the floor, curled up with his knees to his chest and tears in his eyes.

That’s the way I always find him when he has yet another negative test. It’s difficult for me to deal with my own disappointment and sadness when he’s so heartbroken and defeated. Everything inside me demands that Ifix itwhenever I see my Iri like that. My own feelings and needs come second.

Taking a breath, steeling myself with the strength I need to not feel my own pain right now, I open the bathroom door. Sure enough, the scene is a familiar one. The results book is open on the bathroom counter. Instead of one test standing up on end like porcupine quills, there are… eight? An entire box.

Iri is on the floor, leaning against the linen closet wall with his knees to his chest. His chin rests on them. Fresh tear tracks stain his cheeks.

“Iri,” I murmur and crouch beside him. I press my lips to his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Look at it,” he says quietly.

I don’t need to. I don’t want to. I know what a negative test looks like at this point. “Come here,” I say, and start pulling him into my arms.

Iri pushes me a little. “Look at it, Luken.”

My hands already feel shaky. I don’t want to look at it. Not at all. I want to hold him in my arms so our broken hearts can beat together. I want to breed him again. Again and again and again. I want to scream a loudFUCK YOUto the universe for this lousy hand we were dealt.

He pushes me more, and I get to my feet. The tops of the stick tests are all an unfamiliar orange color. We get the dynamic tests, which don’t just tell youPregnantorNot Pregnant. They indicate cycles and hormone levels. Each color variation means something different.

I examine one of the colors and then look down at the page. My heart nearly stops entirely as I read the word.

PREGNANT

I stare at it until the letters blur. They make no sense at all. That’s not real. I am so fucking insanely desperate to read it that I’m… blocking out the NOT. That’s all. It’s happened before.

I’m mismatching the color. Yep, I’ve done that before… though, to be fair, all shades of a single color fall under one label. I’ve never seen orange in any of Iri’s tests.

Because he’s never been pregnant before.

Chills race over my body. I pick up the book to read the word again. Over and over. PREGNANT. “Oh my god,” I whisper and spin to look at him.

Tears are tracking down his cheeks again, but now I see them for what they are. I missed his smile before. I think it was there, but I’d already pre-built the scene in my head that I missed all the differences.

“We did it,” he whispers.

For a second, I think I’m seeing through his tears because he becomes a blurry mess. I’m on my knees in front of him, wrapping him in my arms, and my tears drop into his hair.

I can’t speak. I can’t make the words form.

“Breed me, Luken,” he says, his fingers gripping the front of my shirt tightly. “Breed me.”

I scoop him into my arms and unceremoniously shove through the bathroom door. There’s no finesse or suaveness to this moment. We practically fall onto the bed as I tear at his clothes to get them out of the way.

While I struggle out of mine, I lick at his hole to get him wet and ready for me. Listening to the way he whines and moans makes my blood burn through my veins. If I’d just concentrate on getting naked, it wouldn’t take so long.

But all I can think is,we’re pregnant. The words scroll through my mind like the bright lights of a marquee. Tears don’t stop falling because we finally made it to this point. It’s here. It’s happening. It’s real.

I push inside his body at the same moment that I bring him into my arms. His whine turns into loud whimpers as I spread him wide. His body twitches in my arms. His sweet honey caramel fills me like a toxic aphrodisiac. Urging me on. Making me growl as I drive into him.

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