Chapter 32 - Aurela
Soren carries me back to the bed, and almost sleepily, as a second thought, I hear myself murmuring, “I have something to tell you.”
He settles back into the bed with me draped over his chest, one of his hands on my back, stroking it gently. I shiver, feeling sleep start to roll over me as his knot continues to release steadily inside me.
“What’s that, love?” Soren murmurs back, seeming just as sleepy.
“I’m pregnant.”
His hand stalls, and maybe I should feel some trepidation, some worry that this isn’t what he wants.
But I know him—he’s my mate. He’ll be a great father, and I can already feel the joy pulsing through him, the delight as he sits up slightly, his hands going to my biceps, holding me up so he can look at me.
“We’ll talk about this more later,” he whispers, “because I can see that you’re tired. But I want you to know—you’re exceptional. I love you. I can’t wait to see what an amazing mother you’ll be.”
My chest glows with happiness from the praise, the love, this little cocoon of perfect life that I’ve earned. I cuddle back into him, letting my content sigh say everything I don’t have the energy to.
I’m tired of everything with Tara, and I have a feeling it’s going to be a long time before I feel like myself again. But I already feel better than I have for fifteen years.
When I wake up hours later, the room shrouded in darkness, my body is moving before I really understand what I’m doing. I slip out of Soren’s arms and to my knees between his legs, wrapping one of my hands around his length.
He’s perfect, gorgeous, everything about him even more gentle and smooth in the moonlight. His thighs, so strong, are soft to the touch when I reach out and run my fingers over them.
I watch a shiver run up the length of his body, and his cock starts to grow stiff in my hand. I watch as it happens, mesmerized at how each pump of my hand makes him harder, thicker.
Slowly, I lean forward and run the tip of my tongue over the velvety top of his cock. He lets out a noise from the back of his throat, then rises up to look down at me.
“Aurela,” he says, voice thick, “what—”
His words die when I put my mouth on him, his hand coming to the back of my head, gently guiding, never pushing. His fingers tighten in my hair, trembling slightly, like he’s showing great restraint.
He tastes like sweat and smoke, and from where I am, his scent is the strongest, wrapping around me, filling the room. Seeming to fill the entire world.
I suck him off, relishing the way he responds to me, how his hips jerk in response, the hiss he lets out when I scrape my teeth over his sensitive skin.
After what could only be ten minutes, but doesn’t feel like nearly enough, he reaches down, taking me in his arms. Pulling me up, he turns me over to position me on my stomach, lining his hips up behind my ass.
His cock slides into the slick of me, the head pushing against my clit until I let out a muffled moan into the pillow.
“As much as I want to come inside that pretty mouth,” Soren whispers, his voice rough in my ear and against the back of my neck, “I’d like to be inside you much, much more.”
I turn my head to the side and pout at him, which makes him laugh as he adjusts his position, tipping his hips until he can find my entrance and slide inside.
“Don’t worry,” he says, one of his hands flying to my hip, holding me in place as he slides in, fully seating himself inside me. “I’ll make it up to you, baby.”
And he does.
***
“Thank you so much for inviting us,” my mother says from her place at the end of the table.
And to her credit, it sounds like she really means it.
Our meal is nothing as elaborate as what we might have at my parents’ house.
There aren’t multiple courses, or a fine roasted meat and an assortment of sides.
But it is homemade—a rich, thick chili made from an elk Soren caught up at the cabin, paired with salad, cornbread, and a dollop of sour cream from the local dairy for each bowl.
“You caught this elk up at your cabin?” my dad asks, his eyes meeting Soren’s over the table.
The table is dark wood and a little too small for all of us, but we’re crowded around it, anyway, because Lachlan and Valerie only have a small breakfast nook, and we all determined it would be best not to have the meal at my parents’ house.
When they reached out to us, asking if we might get together for a meal, Lachlan and I talked on the phone for an hour, trying to determine if it was even possible for them to change.
If it was worth taking the chance on them.
Again.
I’m not sure exactly what happened that day on the cliff, since Soren and I haven’t exactly had a second to talk everything through yet. But whatever it was, it seemed to change my parents’ opinion of him.
In fact, whatever took place on the cliff kind of seemed to change my parents altogether.
Maybe, amidst the fire, they realized how close they were to losing me.
“That’s right,” Soren says, and Gramps perks up beside him.
“The elk up there tastes better,” he says, pointing his spoon at my dad. “I’ve been saying that for years. It’s why people were all willing to pay more for my stuff.”
“Well,” my dad says, clearing his throat and looking at Soren. “I’ve heard you still need to repair that cabin up there.”
“Yeah, my bad,” Lachlan laughs, though he doesn’t sound particularly sorry. Valerie rolls her eyes at him and reaches over, feeding a tiny spoonful of the chili to Levi, who babbles happily and takes the bite.
We’ve decided not to tell anyone else about my pregnancy until it’s a little further along, but the way I’m staring at Levi might give it away.
Will our baby have my hair, or Soren’s? Or is it possible they might come out with some sort of golden-copper mix of the two?
What will his eyes look like? What will her little hands look like, reaching up for me?
“Well,” my dad says, breaking me out of my thoughts and drawing me back into the conversation.
I look over at my parents, watching as my dad leans forward on the table, wearing that look he gets when he has a new idea.
“I’ll tell you what, Soren, for elk that tastes this good, I’d be willing to pay to stay up at the cabin. Maybe we could—”
“I already gave him money to fix it up,” Lachlan says, shaking his head. “And asked about building another place up there. He said no.”
Gramps looks pleased, and I stifle a happy little laugh when I think about how happy he was to be having company, how he’d hovered in the kitchen, watching over Soren’s shoulder to make sure he wouldn’t ruin the balance of spices, burn the cornbread, make the vinaigrette on the salad too “oily.”
“Sorry,” Soren says, but he doesn’t look that sorry. In fact, more than anything, he looks happy. Confident. “Been in the family for a long time, and I’d like to keep it that way. In fact, I was thinking—Aurela and I might just fix up the cabin and move out there.”
“All the way up there?” Mom asks, worrying at her scarf.
“Oh, please, Shae,” my dad says, shaking his head. “As if you’re not looking for an excuse to shift and go for a run through the woods. It’ll be a treat.”
I look at Soren, and when he meets my eyes, it’s with something soft and yearning for the future in his gaze. I only woke up yesterday, and while we really should have had some important conversations at this point, we’ve been far too busy with…other things.
It’s refreshing to see Soren this loose, this comfortable. A little less concerned about following a schedule, following the rules. It’s nice to have a second for recovery before life has to start again.
And though we haven’t talked about moving up to the cabin yet, I already love the idea. For our baby to grow up in that place, far away from town, but still connected to the pack. Hunting out there with Soren, leaning from him the way he learned from his Gramps.
We don’t have to say a word, holding this gaze, to know that it’s what we both want.
“You’re right,” my mom says, glancing over at me. In a rare show of affection, she reaches for my hand, holding it for a moment.
It seems to me like my parents have been working on some things of their own since the day we walked out of the house. And I can’t wait to talk to them about it.
Looking out over the rest of the table, my mother finishes her thought with a contented smile. “It will be lovely.”