Page 78 of The Alpha's Silent Mate

He draws me close, and I rest my head against his chest as he wraps his arms around me. “You will. One day.”

“The engravings. Why here?”

“Because this is home, and this is the closest to the heart of the pack that we could do this. Your family—your pack—should be with you. Or at least close enough that you can visit anytime you want.”

I lift my head and meet his eyes.

He gazes back at me, waiting for my reaction, or some response.

I don’t have one, because I never believed anyone could or would ever do something like this for me. That anyone could love me the way Shay does.

“Lexa?” Shay murmurs. “Is this not what you want?”

I brush tears from my eyes. “No, I do. You’re just doing that thing again.”

His eyes crease with confusion. “What thing?”

“Making me love you even more, when I didn’t think it was possible.”

He barks out a laugh. “Now you know how I feel.”

Because I still can’t believe it, I turn back to the tree. There were fifty people in my pack, and Shay had someone engrave every single face on it. The engravings go so high that I can’t even see them all. But near eye level, I spot an important one.

My fingers trace Dad’s face. “Even after Mom died, all he thought about was saving me.”

Shay wraps his arms around me, resting his hands on my belly. There’s not even a hint of a curve yet, but inside me, a new life is growing. “That’s what dads do. And that’s what I’ll do for our child.”

I turn to face Shay as my heart contracts at the thought. “I don’t want to lose you.”

He tugs me close before pressing his lips against my brow. “And you won’t. But you and this baby mean more to me than anything in the world. I would die happy if it meant you two lived.” Stepping back, he grips my chin and tilts my head up. “Now I’ve filled your eyes with tears, and I have to fix that.”

A reluctant smile tugs at my lips. “Because that’s what alphas do? Fix things?”

He swings me into his arms. “Because that’s what a man who loves a woman does. He never wants to see her cry.”

I circle my arms around his shoulders. “And how do you intend to fix things?”

On his way to the treehouse, he stops and peers into my eyes. “I have at least five things I’d like to do.”

“To me?” I whisper as desire creeps through my body.

“Yes, to you.”

“And what about me?”

He continues to the treehouse and prepares to climb.

“What five things do I get to do to you?” I ask.

Shay stops. “I’m going to fall out of the tree if you say things like that while I’m climbing.”

My burst of laughter surprises me. “No, you won’t. You’ll be carrying me.”

He presses me against the tree and lowers his head to mine. “I would never hurt you.”

“I know.” He’s not talking about falling from the tree, and neither am I. As I study his face, a thought tickles my mind—the same one that surprises me every now and again. “Shay?”

“Yes, pup?”

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