Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Bennett
“ O kay, Peter,” Chantelle began, leaning back into the park bench. “What is this huge, gigantic news you couldn’t tell me over the phone?”
I snorted silently a few feet away. I’d assumed my barghest form to consensually eavesdrop on their conversation. Peter wanted to know if his friend could learn to see me, and to do that, I had to be shifted. At least we’d found out that she did, indeed, have a haircut the day she abandoned Peter to my whims. She was currently rocking a crown twist.
“Well... There’s like, at least two things,” Peter said.
Chantelle’s brows rose. “Two huge things? Now you got my attention.”
Peter’s gaze flitted to me. I sat under a nearby tree, enjoying the cool grass against my fur. I gave him a reassuring nod.
“Okay.” Peter blew out a breath. “Do you remember that hot guy from the other day?”
“Bennett?” Chantelle said instantly. “Well, duh. Who could forget a man that fine?”
I chuckled under my breath. She was endlessly entertaining. I was glad for their friendship.
Peter blushed through a sheepish grin. “Yeah. So, about that...”
Before Peter could say a word, Chantelle gasped loudly and grabbed Peter’s arm. “Oh, you are not about to say what I think you’re going to say.”
“Um... I might be?”
Chantelle gasped again, more dramatic and suspenseful, but totally genuine. “Peter! Stop! Don’t tell me you went home with him?” she cried excitedly. Lowering her voice, she added, “Was it good? I have a feeling it was good.”
Peter blushed. “You’re jumping way ahead here. But yes, for the record, I did go home with him and... yes, it was amazing.”
Chantelle squealed with joy, grabbing his hands. “Peter! I’m so happy for you!”
“Girl, let me finish,” Peter said with a laugh.
“Okay, sorry. I’m listening.”
“Bennett and I... we’re not just dating,” he said, shooting me another glance. “We’re fated mates. He’s my alpha.”
Chantelle’s jaw unhinged. She went silent before shrieking, “WHAT?”
The two friends exploded into what I could only describe as a squealing fit. I watched them with delight.
“Okay, okay,” Chantelle said, fanning herself. “That is a lot to take in.”
“Actually—”
“There’s more!? ” She looked like she might faint from information overload.
“This part’s, um... I dunno if you’ll believe it,” Peter admitted.
Chantelle’s face turned serious. She nodded solemnly, giving Peter her full attention. “Whatever you’re about to say, I know it’s real. I’m listening.”
Peter smiled in appreciation, but hesitated. He shot me a long glance. Suspecting he wanted my support, I rose from the tree’s shade and padded over to him. I sat beside his leg, my fur brushing against his calf.
When I’d settled next to him, Peter took a breath and faced Chantelle. “So, Bennett... isn’t human. He’s a shapeshifter.”
She blinked slowly. “Oh. Okay. If that’s what you both believe, then more power to you.”
She didn’t sound judgmental or jaded; more confused than anything else. I appreciated her willingness to listen, even if she didn’t quite understand yet.
“I know it sounds weird,” Peter acknowledged. “But Bennett and I talked about it, and he said he’d show you.”
“Show me what?” she asked.
“His shift from barghest to human.”
“From who now?”
Peter chuckled. “Can you see him right now?” he asked, gesturing to me.
Chantelle followed the direction of his hand. She met my eyes, but it was obvious she couldn’t actually see me.
“No, I don’t see anything,” she said.
“That’s okay. We’ll show you in a second.” Peter grabbed Chantelle’s hands. “You’re my best friend. If nobody else knows, I want you to know.”
“Aww, Peter. That’s so sweet.” Chantelle’s brown eyes watered. “Okay, I’m ready for... whatever you’re about to show me.” She stopped suddenly. “Hold on. I’ve read enough monster romance books to know werewolves and shit always get naked when they shift. Is Bennett about to flash me?”
Peter choked back a laugh. “He’s not a werewolf.”
“Whatever. Vampire. Alien. Tentacle monster.” Chantelle waved a hand. “They all get naked.”
“He’s none of those things. He’s a barghest. And no, he doesn’t get naked when he shifts.”
Chantelle looked mildly disappointed. She sighed. “Okay. Bring it on.”
That was my cue. I got to all four paws, then released the power of shapeshifting. I felt an ancient energy rippling across my pelt. It bristled along my spine like rain, soaking me to the core and flicking a switch in my soul. I lifted to two legs, ditched the fur and claws, and resumed the form of the handsome alpha Peter knew and loved.
Once my shift was over, I smiled at Chantelle. “Hey.”
Poor girl looked like she was about to pass out again.
“Okay. That just happened,” she mumbled. Turning to Peter, she asked, “Is he a ghost? ‘Cause he just—” She snapped her fingers. “—out of thin air.”
“Barghest. Not a ghost,” he explained. “Bennett, you remember Chantelle?”
“How could I forget?”
My disarming greeting calmed her down. She sat up and shook my hand.
“Mind if I sit?” I asked Peter, who scooted slightly so I could sit beside him. The bench wasn’t large, so our bodies squished together, which I obviously didn’t mind. I loved being as close to him as physically possible.
“This is wild,” Chantelle said with a joyful laugh. “I dunno what happened, or what kinda magical powers you have, Bennett, but thank you for making Peter happy.”
Her comment warmed my heart. “Always.”
“There is... one more thing,” Peter said. As he spoke, he found my hand and grasped it.
Chantelle’s eyes bulged. “Okay, what else could possibly top ‘ my hot fated mate is a ghost-thingy’? ”
Amusement sparkled in Peter’s eyes. “Oh, trust me, you’re gonna like this. I’m pregnant, Chantelle.”
A beat of dead silence was followed by a thrilled shriek. She crashed into Peter with a hug, squeezing him carefully.
“There’s no way!” she cried through laughter. “When? How did you know? When are you due?”
Peter grinned as he answered her rapid-fire questions. “A couple days ago, Bennett has magical barghest powers, and in about five months.”
Chantelle paused. I could practically imagine the swarm of questions and math equations floating above her head. “I’m gonna just accept everything you say. Five months! That’s so soon.”
I nodded. “It’s apparently a barghest thing. Accelerated pregnancy and all that.” He smiled at his friend. “Which means our baby’s gonna meet their auntie sooner rather than later.”
Chantelle’s face lit up with emotion. It was clear that statement touched her deeply. She wiped a tear from her eye. “I’m there for you and the baby, Peter. Anytime, anywhere.”
A smile lit up my mate’s face. “I know.”
Peter sighed as I rubbed soothing circles into his lower back. Five months of pregnancy was hell on his lumbar. Since our conversation with Chantelle, his belly had rounded quickly. The accelerated term gave Peter less time to adjust to the sudden changes.
He relaxed, closing his eyes. “I am so glad you’re here.”
“So I can massage places you can’t reach?” I teased.
“That too.” He smiled at me over his shoulder. “But also ‘cause I love you so much.”
“I love you, too. Does it feel tense here?” I asked, digging my thumb into a knot in his back.
He leaned back into the touch. “Mm... Yeah. Thanks.” After a few more minutes, he asked, “Can you bring me my cards?”
I nodded, then left the nursery to retrieve Peter’s tarot deck from his office. We’d set up a temporary ‘paternity ward’ in the room so Peter could give birth in the privacy of our home. With his due date so close, all I could do was keep him comfortable.
But we weren’t alone. Winston was on standby to do any miscellaneous tasks, and Chantelle was a phone call away. Peter said he wanted her present since she’d assisted in many childbirths.
“Here you go,” I said, handing Peter the deck.
Smiling mischievously, he replied, “Thanks. I’m gonna ask the cards if the baby’s coming today.”
I sat on the edge of the oversized bed, prepared for birth at a moment’s notice, and watched Peter shuffle the cards. It amazed me how far he’d come in his tarot journey since I bought him the deck. It was well worth the money to see the joy and confidence on his face every time he used it.
Peter took a breath and put the deck face down on the bedspread. “Will I finally give birth today?”
When he pulled a card, his eyes lit up.
“The Sun,” he said, facing it towards me. It depicted a beautiful golden dragon circling the sun. “I think our answer is ‘yes.’”
He said it with so much conviction, it was difficult not to believe it.
“Then shall I call Chantelle?” I offered.
Peter nodded and nestled against the bed. “Please do. Meanwhile, I’m gonna lie here and think labor-y thoughts.”
As it turned out, the tarot was right.
Peter strained, letting out a low groan. Beneath the thin privacy gown, his skin was covered in a glistening sheen of sweat. He clutched my hand desperately as another contraction seized him.
Chantelle had arrived ASAP after my call. Having her here was a great comfort, since I’d never attended a birth before. I had to admit, despite my cool demeanor, I was freaking out silently on the inside. My barghest paced impatiently in my soul, growling and huffing, unable to do anything but wait and be there for Peter.
Thankfully, Chantelle had everything under control. She wrung out a soaked towel and handed it to me, which I placed on Peter’s hot forehead. He flashed me a grateful look through pained blue eyes.
“Whatever you need, tell me,” I insisted. “I’ll do everything I can.”
Peter smiled weakly. “I just need you , Bennett.”
My heart clenched. “Then you have me.”
“As cute as you two are being, I need you to push, Peter,” Chantelle called from the foot of the bed.
Peter nodded in understanding. He took a deep breath, then pushed. His nails dug into my skin as he clutched my hand. I stroked his hair in what I hoped was a soothing rhythm, using the damp towel to dab away his sweat.
“You’re doing it, Peter!” Chantelle encouraged. Her bright voice eased my mate’s tension; I felt Peter’s hand relax where he held onto me.
Groaning loudly, Peter breathed hard. His eyes clenched shut as he focused on pushing. I couldn’t imagine the agony he was in.
After what felt like ages of pushing through contractions, Peter let out a hoarse cry. He squeezed my hand so hard it felt like being pinched by the world’s squishiest crab.
But I forgot about all of that a moment later when I heard a thin wail.
My heart swelled. That voice could only belong to our baby.
Chantelle was skilled, and worked fast. She cleaned up the newborn, then presented the neatly wrapped bundle to us.
“Congratulations,” she said, beaming with joy. “You two are the proud new dads of a baby girl.”
Peter’s eyes went glassy with happy tears. He took our daughter gently, pressing her to his chest like a seasoned dad.
As I gazed down at my daughter, my parental instincts flared to the surface like an erupting volcano. That tiny new life was my responsibility to care for, and protect. Even though we’d only just met, I loved her fiercely. I felt the barghest spirit inside me puffing up with determination.
“She’s so perfect,” Peter murmured, unable to take his eyes off her.
I was spellbound, too. Sparse strands of black hair dusted her round little head. Her brown skin was smooth and delicate, and when she peeked open her eyes, they were a breathtaking shade of black. I smiled, wondering if they’d turn red just like mine.
Peter swallowed a lump of emotion in his throat. “Thank you for this gift, Bennett. This is all I’ve ever wanted.”
Ribbons of bliss swirled in my chest. I leaned down to kiss Peter. His lips were soft and salty from sweat, but perfect all the same.
“No, Peter,” I said, smiling. “Thank you for being my fated mate, and the bearer of our child.”
Stars sparkled in Peter’s eyes. The love radiating from him felt tangible and warm, like a snuggly blanket that enveloped us.
Chantelle cleared her throat. “Well? What’s her name, daddies?”
I exchanged a knowing glance with Peter. The topic of names had come up over and over during his pregnancy. We had a couple backups, but there was something we wanted to try first...
Silently, I shuffled Peter’s tarot deck, placed it in my palms and offered it to him.
“Oh, no. You are not naming this beautiful baby Ace of Cups,” Chantelle said, raising a brow.
Peter chuckled. “Of course not. Just wait and see.”
He closed his eyes and drew the top card, slowly bringing it up to his eyes. When he opened them, they went wide. He flipped the card to face us. It pictured a stunning mermaid atop a throne.
“The Empress,” Peter read.
I couldn’t help grinning. “Fate has spoken. Queenie it is.”
“Aww,” Chantelle cooed, putting a hand to her chest. “That’s actually a really cute name.”
Peter smiled at his friend. “I’m glad her auntie thinks so, too.”