Chapter Seventy- One
Willow
W: Bigfoot is a great snuggler. My guys even started bite work with him. He’s doing so amazing. I think he’ll be ready to head your way in another month or so.
O: I’m so excited. But more importantly, how are you?
W: Okay. I’ve barely left the nest since I’ve gotten home. I’m being so lazy, but also I’m wiped. The guys are getting stuff together for a movie night though, so I’m going to do my best to rally for that. They’re being so sweet.
O: It will be lovely. And if you don’t want to leave the nest, have them set up there. Listen to your instincts.
R: I hope you’re not pregnant.
O: Rude!
W: Pregnant? Wtf?
Her words make me gasp. Pregnant? There’s no way. Right? Oh God. My hands tremble, and nausea swirls in my belly. Pressing my palm against my flat abdomen, I run through all the possibilities. Obviously, we spent a heat together, but a baby?
Fuck. My suppressants were also my birth control, but when it comes to a heat, even birth control isn’t foolproof. Panic seizes my heart. Concern trickles through the bond, and feet pound down the hallway.
“Honeybee, what’s wrong?”
“Willow? Baby girl?”
They appear in the doorway, miles of muscle and tattoos that temporarily blitz my brain. Their scents seep into the room, sweet and spicy, tinged with worry, yet somehow their very presence soothes me.
“Nothing.” The automatic response leaves my lips before I get a chance to think. But my mind won’t let go of the fear. It’s not that I don’t want a child. Honestly, I’ve never considered it. My whole life was music—and when that stopped being a driving force, survival became my focus.
I mean, I guess it would be cool? Someday? But do Lincoln and Cujo even want kids? And what about the pack trying to kill me?
Bad. So bad.
“Don’t lie. You suck at it,” Lincoln admonishes, raising an eyebrow in question. “If you don’t want to tell us something, that’s okay. But say so.”
“Or just tell us, and we’ll fix it.” Cujo leans against the doorframe, and I nearly drool. My brain floats away in a sea of abs. “Willow!”
“What?” Should I tell them? With Pack Mordred out there, it’s not like I can pop over to the pharmacy by myself anyway.
“You wanna share now? Or after you worry about it for a while?” Cujo opens his arms, and I scramble off the bed and into his embrace.
A purr rumbles from his chest. When his hands grab my ass, I squeak and my feet leave the ground.
Throwing my arms around his neck, I crush my face against his shoulder, and he lets out a barely audible hiss.
“What happened? Are you hurt?” I reach for the edge of his cut and pull it back to find a big white bandage.
Cujo chuckles and presses a quick kiss to my lips.
“Not hurt. Wasn’t going to show you for a couple of days until it looks a bit better.
” He walks us into the living room and takes a seat on the couch, keeping me perched on his lap.
Lincoln and the dogs follow, all four of them padding in silently.
But knowing they’re near isn’t enough to prevent the anxiety from making my lower lip tremble.
Cujo’s hand hovers above the bandage before peeling back the tape so slowly that I yearn to tear it off him.
The second it’s off, bright red skin with black lines is revealed to the light. Unable to stop myself, I trace the pattern, confused at first. My eyes widen as everything clicks into place.
“Is that… my bite?” I swallow hard, understanding clawing through my chest. Omegas teeth marks fade; that’s just how our bodies work. Alphas do the claiming, and we do the submitting, but this—it’s a way to show they’re claimed, too.
“Of course, honeybee. We want the world to know we’re yours.” My fingers can’t stop tracing over the raised ink.
“We?” I glance at Lincoln, who pulls off his cut to reveal a similar bandage over his heart. He gives me a lopsided grin, eyes twinkling.
“A little piece of you to keep over my heart forever.” His deep timbre rolls over me. The bonds warm in my chest, and happy tears spring to my eyes.
“I love you both so much.”
Lincoln moves in, taking a seat on the couch beside Cujo, and I dive for the space between them. Burrowing in and letting their scents calm the riot of emotions bubbling inside me.
“Love you too, my sweet omega.” Lincoln kisses the top of my head.
“I love you most of all.” Cujo wraps an arm around me, tugging me further into his side. Silly man. I giggle. “Now, do you want to tell us what had you so upset a few minutes ago?”
My eyes finally take in the room. Soft blankets and pillows everywhere, a tray of my favorite snacks already waiting on the table, and a pile of haphazardly wrapped gifts in the corner. There’s affection seeping from every nook and cranny of the place.
It’s home.
They’re my home.
And I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep us safe. But it all starts with honesty, with sharing my fears and letting them hold some of the burden.
“I’m not sure if I’m pregnant.” They both go impossibly still, but Linc and Cujo can’t fool me. Joy and something that might be pride filter down the bond, although they try to remain outwardly neutral.
“And you don’t want that?” Lincoln asks carefully, reaching out to gently tilt my chin so I look into his eyes. The adoration and concern in his gaze make my heart thump. “There’s no right or wrong answer.”
“It’s not that I don’t want a baby. But…
there’s so much danger. Beatdown’s still out there.
And even though they might think I’m dead, the trial will ensure Pack Mordred is aware that I’m still very alive.
” Cujo and Lincoln’s eyes meet over my head, having a silent conversation that I’m not privy to.
“Those are all good points, baby girl. But do you want a kid? Can you imagine life with a rugrat runnin’ around?” A smile crinkles Lincoln’s nose, and I reach out to rub the crease between his eyebrows.
There’s no question as to where he stands.
But his words give me pause, and for the first time, I give myself a chance to consider it.
To imagine a boy with Cujo’s dark, broody gaze or Lincoln’s kind smile.
A daughter with a clubhouse full of men to protect her and daddies to teach her about everything from animal rescue to changing a tire.
“Yeah. Yeah, I absolutely can. And I want that.” I send the wish out into the universe. “But not until we can keep them safe.”
“Then we just need to eliminate anyone who threatens that dream.” Cujo rubs my leg. “And the Beatdown issue’s already settled.” His warm palm sends a zap of electricity straight to my core, and I nearly miss the implications of his words.
“Beatdown’s no longer… breathing?” I ask carefully. Even though it’s club business, I need them to tell me. To put my sanity before their secrets.
“Nope. By now he’s dust,” Lincoln shares candidly, and my heart soars.
It may not make me the best person to be so excited over someone’s death, but that night still lives in the very marrow of my bones.
It soothes the fear deep inside that he might come after me and my potential unborn child.
My hands fall to my abdomen, and I stare down at my very flat belly.
Lincoln’s warm palm drops over it, followed by Cujo’s.
We sit together for a while, digesting the possibilities, reveling in each other’s presence until a loud rap on the door breaks the moment.
“You ready to find out?” Lincoln squeezes my hand, then stands and makes his way over to the door.
“What did you do?” I ask, hesitantly getting up and following him. He opens the door, and I expect to see a person standing there, but whoever was here is gone. Resting on the doorstep is a simple white pharmacy bag. “At least it’s not mice.”
Cujo comes up behind me, wrapping an arm over my shoulders, as Linc picks up the bag. “I had Lassie pick up a test. Told him to leave it outside. Even though some of the brothers know you’re back, I wasn’t sure whether you were ready to see any of them.”
He turns my way, booting the door closed with a loud thud. The test in his hand makes anxiety build in my belly.
“Come on, honeybee. You’ve survived much worse than peeing on a stick.
Let’s get it done, and then snuggle down for a movie night.
Any movie you want.” Not waiting for me to answer, he grabs my hand and tugs me through the house to the bathroom.
Both my Alphas and all four dogs follow me in, making the room impossibly crowded.
“You’re not watching me pee.” I put my hands on my hips. “I’ll take the stupid test. But get out.”
“Oh. Come on! I want to be a part of every single second of our baby’s life. This is the first part.” Cujo leans his hip against the counter, and the familiar urge to stab him rises.
“Get. Out.” The incorrigible man turns on the water, letting it run, which causes my bladder to clench. “I will hurt you.”
“No knife on you. I’ll chance it.” I glance around the bathroom, looking for something to throw.
“Come on, idiot.” Lincoln finally steps in, using his big body to shove the pain in the ass out of the room until only Bruce remains. “Bruce. Let’s go.”
But my dog ignores him completely, and I wave off Lincoln and close the door, knowing they’ll be right outside. Bruce’s eyes land on me, and he assesses the nerves he’s sensing. Excitement. Fear. It’s like jumping off a cliff without a tether.
After pulling the little stick from the pack, I read the directions no less than three times before the water gets to me.
“It’s now or never, bud.” I signal for him to turn around, and he does, guarding the door. With a deep breath, I do what I need to: take the test, then settle in to wait the longest five minutes of my life.
For a moment, I consider leaving them out there, waiting to find out alone, but my omega pines for them. I need the security of my mates—this is news we should get together. Cracking the door, I find them both standing there, glaring at the wood as though wishing for X-ray vision.
“Let’s do this as a pack.” I reach out my hands, and they each clasp one, holding me steady until the timer goes off.
Three.
Two.
One.
The second it chimes, Cujo snatches up the stick from the countertop, not even wrinkling his nose about the fact that I peed on that.
He spins it over, and love nearly swamps me through both sides of the bond.
Two pink lines.
They stare at me—a promise of family. A future. Fulfillment right at my fingertips.
As long as we can keep the demons at bay.