Chapter 23
Ivar
It takes a lot to make a Viking cry, but a child stirs emotions to the surface that we rarely feel.
I thought I could sense something. My wolf has been a little more restless recently. He wasn’t like that when my wife got pregnant, but this is different. Avery is our mate. Something connects us that is as powerful as the gods we say prayers to.
“Feeling better?” I ask, wiping Avery’s mouth with a wet cloth once she leans back from the toilet.
“A little, yeah,” she says. “Need to brush my teeth and take a shower.”
“Go ahead, I’ll stay with you,” I say, helping her to her feet.
“I’ll just brush my teeth for now. I already slept later than I normally do and I need to make breakfast,” she says, walking over to the sink.
“No, you will not be cooking, cleaning, or doing anything except resting for the next nine months,” I command, determination in my voice.
“What am I supposed to do? Just sit on the couch?” she mutters, squeezing some toothpaste on her toothbrush.
“Whatever suits you. On Midgard, once a woman was carrying a child, she was pampered and well cared for until the baby arrived,” I say. “Especially a queen.”
“I’m no queen here. We’re not even married,” she says, spitting out some toothpaste, talking with the toothbrush hanging from her mouth. “I’m just a pregnant farmer, and in this era on my world, women worked until the baby showed up.”
“You’re still our mate,” I insist. “Which means we will be taking care of you. You can fight us if you want, but you’ll just end up over Sigurd’s knee. Or mine. Been a while since I’ve had to punish you.”
“You’re going to punish me if I don’t sit around and get fat?” she laughs.
“If we have to,” I say. “Or you could stop being so feisty and accept how things are going to be for the next nine months.”
“I’m not being feisty, I’m just being realistic,” she sighs, rinsing her mouth and turning toward me. “But I will take a shower, if I don’t have to make breakfast.”
“I’ll get it ready for you,” I say, starting the water and testing the temperature until it’s perfect. “There, that should be comfortable. I’ll get a washcloth so I can wash your back.”
“That really isn’t necessary,” Avery sighs as she strips off her clothes and gets into the shower. “I can manage.”
“Just relax, mate. Let me take care of you,” I say soothingly, removing a washcloth from the closet and walking back over to the shower. “You could be carrying my child. I don’t deserve the blessing you’re carrying if I don’t properly care for my mate.”
“Could belong to any of you,” Avery says, putting a hand on her stomach.
“Doesn’t matter. It’s our future. All of us will love it the same,” I murmur, lathering the washcloth before I start washing her back.
I got emotional when my children were born.
Those were glorious days that we celebrated.
A prince who would one day be king. A princess who would marry into one of the other royal families.
Then I had to watch them wither away, and some days, I’m surprised I survived it.
Stubbornness, perhaps. Our kind doesn’t give up easily, even when the entire world dies around us.
I wash Avery’s back, but that’s all she will allow me to do without protesting, so I give her the washcloth. Once she’s done, I wrap her in a towel, dry her off, and lead her back to the bedroom where I help her get dressed.
“Do you think Erik and Sigurd will be happy?” Avery asks, looking up at me with a worried expression on her face.
“Why wouldn’t they be? This is an answer to our prayers,” I reply.
“Yes, but we’re stuck here on Mallow. I don’t think the ship will be ready anytime soon,” she says. “And if it gets too close to the delivery date before it’s ready, we may have to stay here until the baby is born.”
“You’re our priority. Our only real priority,” I murmur.
“Yes, we want to get home. We want to share the good news with the other royal families. But taking care of you is more important than that. If we don’t get the ship ready before you’re ready to give birth, then we’ll wait until you’re able to travel. After the baby is ready to travel.”
“Okay,” she says, a smile teasing the edge of her lips.
I put an arm around Avery and we walk into the living room. Sigurd is in the kitchen. Erik is reclined on the couch. Sigurd spots us and comes stomping our way.
“About damn time you got up,” Sigurd growls. “Where’s breakfast? I have work to do. Do I need to spank you so you don’t oversleep?”
“Is that always going to be how you are?” Avery asks. “If I’m late with your food or cook it too long, I go right over your knee?”
“Sometimes,” Sigurd says.
“There will be none of that today. None of that for a while,” I say, pulling Avery a little closer. “We have wonderful news to share. Our mate… she’s with child.”
Erik sits up immediately. “Are you sure? I thought I could sense something. My wolf definitely does. I wasn’t sure what was driving him crazy.”
“Mine too,” Sigurd says. “Making me more aggressive than usual.”
“Really? That’s a scary thought,” Avery says hesitantly.
“It’s the only answer,” I say. “I thought it was unusual when she started craving bloody steaks since we had to cook her deer meat to a crisp or she’d gag trying to eat it. It’s a strong baby. Already demanding the spoils of a good hunt.”
“Fenrir has truly blessed us,” Sigurd mutters. “All the gods have.”
Erik gets up from the couch and walks over to us. “Come, Avery. You shouldn’t be on your feet. Relax on the couch.”
“I’m really fine,” she says, but she lets Erik pull her away from me. “On Earth women don’t suddenly become an invalid because they’re pregnant.”
“We take care of our women when they’re with child,” Erik says, guiding Avery to the couch. He gets her to lie down, then he moves to the arm and begins massaging her feet. “Before the plague, you would have had servants to ensure you were comfortable.”
“You should be happy. That baby just saved you from getting your butt spanked for being late with our breakfast,” Sigurd says, moving closer to Avery and massaging her shoulders. “Not that I wouldn’t have enjoyed putting the fire out it lit between your legs.”
“Mm, okay, I could get used to this,” Avery whispers, closing her eyes.
“I’ll take care of breakfast,” I say, walking into the kitchen.
Avery will be well cared for here, just like she would be on Midgard. She’s got three mates who will take care of her every need. She won’t have to lift a finger for the next nine months. Probably less than nine, but I’m not sure when the conception date is.
I crack some eggs, gather some steak tips, and toss them into the pan.
It’s the easiest breakfast, since Sigurd recently slaughtered a cow.
We’ve got some biscuits leftover from yesterday’s breakfast, so I heat those up to go with it.
Once everything is assembled on the plates, I walk into the living room.
Avery is still on the couch and Sigurd is still working on her shoulders. Erik has moved on from her feet and is massaging her legs, his hands moving higher up her thighs. I already know what he’s planning. Her sweet honey is hard to resist, and it’ll be even sweeter now that she’s pregnant.
“What are you doing?” Avery whimpers, pushing on his shoulder when he tugs her panties down.
“Finding something a lot more appetizing for breakfast,” Erik chuckles, tossing her panties to the side.
I can’t see Erik because he’s under Avery’s dress, but I hear her moan, then she stops trying to fight him. Sigurd gestures for me to put his breakfast down on the table near him.
“I thought you had work to do,” Avery moans, her back arching in a way that tells me Erik’s tongue is already inside her.
“We do,” Sigurd says. “But that doesn’t mean we’re going to ignore you. Taking care of you means more than feeding you and massaging your shoulders.”
“He’s right about that,” I say, putting the plates down. “Some women are practically insatiable when the pregnancy hormones kick in. Luckily, you’ve got three mates to make sure none of your needs get neglected.”
“This one doesn’t feel neglected.” Avery puts a hand on Erik’s head and groans. “But I won’t complain.”
Erik drinks from our mate once she erupts in bliss. I eat my breakfast, but Sigurd lets his get cold beside him, no longer concerned about it. As soon as Erik is done, they switch places, and Sigurd nearly makes her scream when he feasts on her sweet honey.
As I watch Avery, thoughts of our future swirl in my mind.
I imagine teaching our children the ways of our people, sharing stories of Midgard, and building a life together that honors both our worlds.
The one we knew. The one Avery knew. They’ll blend together as we build our life, and we’ll honor her ways just like we honor our own.
I’ll have my turn between her gorgeous legs, once my brother is done. Taking care of a pregnant mate is one of the true pleasures in life.
Nothing else matters right now.