Page 65 of Broken Arranged Mate
“What?” Kira asks, her eyes serious on me. “What is it?”
“It’s, uh…” I look to the side, let out a nervous laugh. I’ve been working on using the powers with them, and so far, my premonition has never come to life—but even with my new skills, I could still be wrong.
“Just spit it out,” Veva says, taking a sip of her wine, “the suspense is killing me.”
I bite my tongue, then say, “It’s a girl.”
A beat of silence, then all the women—including me—erupt into cheers.
“Is there something I’m missing?” Raegan glances around. “Aside from girls being the best, that is.”
“Kira hasfiveboys so far,” Veva laughs, gesturing at her friend with her wine glass. “Wasn’t sure if she was ever going to get her girl.”
“Right,” Kira laughs, wiping a tissue under her eye delicately. “So I sure hope you’re right, Ash. Here, you can have mine in exchange for your services.”
She tries to hand me the glass, and it’s my turn to shut it down. “Actually,” I whisper, glancing over at Oren, who’s in a group with Reeyan, Landon, and Wyn. Reeyan and Wyn are on his council now, and he’s finally learning to place real trust in them.
I love him more than I ever have, and I can’t wait to build a family with him.
“No,” Kira whispers, her eyes going wide. “Are you…?”
“We’re trying,” I say, dropping my hand to my belly and glancing at them.
Again, Raegan says, “Ew, too much information.” Then, after a beat, “That is kind of sweet, I guess. Never thought my brother would have any kids.”
“Well,” a voice sounds, a thick arm swinging around my chest and pulling me back into a strong chest. Oren holds me tight, burying his face in my neck and taking a deep breath.When he looks up, he says to them with a cheeky grin, “Guess someone came along that changed my mind.”
***
“I thought they were never going to leave,” Oren says, joining me on the back porch. Quietly, he hands me a mug of tea, which is just warm enough to keep me from shivering as the desert air drops in temperature, the sun setting over the landscape.
“For an alpha leader,” I laugh, watching him as he takes a seat next to me, “you are surprisingly anti-social.”
“There’s only one person I want to be around.” He reaches out and takes my hand, and I laugh again, miming a gagging motion.
“So mushy,” I complain, as he pulls his hand out from mine, then points at me.
“I liked you better when you wanted me to be mushy,” he grouses.
And he was—for the first few months after that night, he was endlessly soft with me. I thought that it would wear off, the constant doting, but he meant what he said about making up for that day. And other than teasing me or pouting when I complain about the princess treatment, he’s been absolutely perfect.
In fact, everything has been so perfect that I’m constantly expecting something bad to happen. After months and months of stability, I finally hear the rumbling of something going wrong.
The porch creaks ominously, and Oren’s hand clamps around my wrist as he leaps to his feet, yanking me toward him and shouting, “Ash!”
We tumble backward just as the porch collapses, the wood splintering with a deafening crack and sliding away from us, leaving us exposed like we’re at the edge of a cliff. Oren’s body shields mine as we hit the ground, dust and debris showering over us, a sickly-sweet smell hovering in the air and falling around us like a blanket.
For a moment, we lie there, his heart hammering against my back, his arms wrapped protectively around me. When the rumbling finally stops, and it seems like our house isn’t going to fall directly into the earth, he loosens his grip on me.
“Are you okay?” His voice is rough with concern as he helps me sit up, one hand on the center of my back.
I nod, brushing dirt and little wood splinters from my clothes. "What was that? An earthquake? Are there earthquakes in the desert?”
Glancing up, I look to see if he’s going to answer me, but Oren’s attention is fixed on something behind me, his eyes wide with shock. I turn, looking over my shoulder to follow his gaze.
Where our modest rock yard once stood is now a massive sinkhole.
It’s at least twenty feet across, spanning fence to fence, the jagged edges revealing layers of soil and stone.
