Page 94 of Wolf Bonded (Rejected Moons 2)

Milo shakes his head. “Her baby was already dead when I got to her,” he said. “She had to go through labor and delivery knowing that she wouldn’t have a child. Even though she lived, that’s awful.”

“It was awful,” Emlyn says. “But it’s not going to be like that for us, Milo. I promise.”

She sounds so serene. So confident. “How can you be sure?” I ask her, mostly because I want her to make me as confident as she is. I want to believe that this is going to work.

“I’m a hybrid,” she says.

“Why does that matter?”

“I have the strength of wolves and Moon Casters,” she says. “I have my wolf, and I have moon magic. I’m sure I’ll be able to do this.”

I like that she has faith. I don’t want to take it away from her. But she’s just speculating. Really, she’s just hoping.

Finally, Wilder stands up, holding his glass of wine.

“What’s done is done,” he says. “I believe that if anyone can do this, Emlyn can. She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

Well, that’s a sentiment I can get on board with. I get to my feet as well and raise my glass. Opposite me, Milo does the same.”

Emlyn relaxes and smiles, one hand resting on her flat stomach. I try to imagine what she’ll look like in a few months as our baby starts to grow.

I have to believe that’s going to happen. I have to keep faith. She’s strong enough to get through this. If any woman left alive can bear a child long enough to give birth, Emlyn is that woman.

“To the mother of our baby,” Wilder says.

“Hear, hear,” Milo says.

We clink our glasses together, and each of us takes a long drink.

And as we do, I allow real hope to creep in.

I don’t know what the future will look like, and there’s a lot to fear. There are plenty of reasons to worry.

There are also reasons to believe that everything will turn out all right.

In nine months, maybe I’ll have a little son or daughter running around Giuseppe’s. Someone I can teach to control their shifting. Someone I can take out hunting and fishing when they get a bit older.

Someone I can be a father to.

It’s a long shot. But it’s a shot worth taking.

And these three—Emlyn, Milo, and Wilder are the only people in the world I can imagine taking it with.

After all we’ve been through, a pregnancy ought to be small potatoes.

57

It’saftermidnightbeforeI can be sure everyone is asleep.

I roll to my hands and knees, then get slowly to my feet. If any of them opens their eyes and sees me, they’ll ask me what I’m doing. And I can’t let them know.

They would stop me. Any of them would stop me. After the past couple of weeks, I know that.

I tiptoe across the floor of Giuseppe’s. I’ve learned where the floorboards creak, and I dance around these places. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to step lightly like this. When my pregnancy develops, will my gait become heavy?

My pregnancyisgoing to develop. This baby is going to grow and thrive. I just won’t have it any other way.

I make it to the door. I should have locked it earlier, before we went to bed. It’s my job to do so. But tonight, I left it unlocked because I know the sound of that lock opening would wake the others up and because I trusted Wilder’s shield to protect us.

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