52. Gabriel
This day has been a fucking blood-soaked rollercoaster. One minute I'm ready to paint the walls with the blood of every last biker who touched her, the next I'm flying higher than I've ever been in my life. And now this.
A baby.
The word keeps echoing in my head like a fucking prayer I never dared to say out loud. A baby.
Mine.
Ours.
I'm floating somewhere above the goddamn clouds while my body is still grounded in this sterile room, blood on my shirt, head pounding from the graze.
But none of that matters. Not the pain. Not the exhaustion.
Not the dozen dead bikers we left behind.
The only thing that matters is that I've put my mark on her.
Deep. Permanent. Irrevocable. The woman I love is carrying my child.
She's completely mine, body, heart, soul, and now the tiny life growing inside her.
The thought fills me with a savage, possessive joy that makes the possessive asshole in me purr like a well-fed lion.
No one will ever take her from me again.
Not Razor's ghost. Not the Collector. Not even her own doubts.
She's mine. I'll make sure of it, even if I have to burn the world twice over to keep her and our baby safe.
Nurse Betty rolls in the ultrasound machine, and the wheels whisper across the floor.
Doc Altera reaches under the examination table and pulls out two metallic contraptions that have me narrow my eyes.
Audra shifts, winces a little from her injuries, then obediently lifts her legs and settles her feet into the stirrups, spreading them.
"No fucking way," I grunt out.
This is not going to happen.
She grins at me, tired, sweet, and a little shy. "Breathe, Gabe. It's completely normal."
I can't breathe. My jaw locks. My hands curl into fists at my sides.
The doctor is about to look between her legs.
My wife's legs. Fine, technically, she's not my wife yet, but she will be.
I'll drag a priest in here tonight if I have to.
No discussion. No debate. She's carrying my baby. She's wearing my mark. She's mine.
The nurse picks up a long, oblong probe and squirts gel on it. It looks like a fucking vibrator. No.
Absolutely no fucking way.
I erupt before I can stop myself.
"You're not sticking that thing up my wife."
I move forward, threatening, shoulders squared, the full weight of the capo radiating off me like heat from a furnace. The doctor pales instantly, taking a half-step back. Audra's hand shoots out and grabs my arm. "Gabe, no. It's okay."
"It's not fucking okay," I snarl, eyes locked on the probe like it's a weapon aimed at what's mine. My voice drops into that dangerous register that makes grown men piss themselves.
"Look at me, Gabe," she coos softly, tugging my arm. "Just look at me. Okay?"
I force my gaze to her face. Those green-gold eyes—still a little hazy from everything she's been through—lock onto mine. Calm. Steady. Full of love and a touch of amusement despite the bruises and bandages. Inside, I'm at war.
The man in me who doesn't shy away from killing wants to rip the doctor's throat out for even thinking about putting anything inside her. She's mine. Her body is mine. No one else gets to touch what belongs to me. Especially not now, when she's carrying my child.
But the man who loves her—the one who almost lost her tonight—knows this is necessary. Knows the baby needs to be checked. Knows I'm being a possessive, territorial asshole.
Still… the thought of that probe going inside her makes my blood boil. I run a hand through my hair, rub the back of my neck, turn halfway away, then back again, trying to leash the beast roaring in my chest.
Audra squeezes my arm gently. "It's just an ultrasound. For the baby. Our baby."
Our baby.
Those two words hit like a sedative and a shot of adrenaline at the same time. I exhale hard through my nose, forcing my shoulders to drop. The doctor is still pale, waiting for permission like his life depends on it. Which is smart. Because it does.
"Fine," I growl, voice low and rough. "But if you hurt her, even a little, I'll feed you your own hands."
Altera nods quickly. "Understood."
I stay right there, one hand on Audra's shoulder, the other clenched at my side, eyes never leaving her face as the probe is gently inserted. She winces slightly but keeps looking at me, that small, tired smile still on her lips.
"See?" she whispers. "It's okay. Breathe, my love."
My love.
The words settle something primal in me. I lean down and press my forehead to hers, breathing her in while the screen comes to life beside us. A tiny, flickering heartbeat appears. Our baby. Our baby's heartbeat. I freeze.
A sound fills the room—fast, strong, alive—like a war drum calling me home. Something raw and primal cracks open in my chest. I've killed men without blinking. I've buried family. I've stared into the face of my own sister's murderer and felt nothing but cold purpose.
But this?
This tiny, fluttering rhythm completely undoes me.
I lean down and kiss Audra, pouring every ounce of the wonder and terror and savage joy surging through me into that kiss.
When I pull back, my forehead rests against hers, my hand still covers the one she has pressed to her stomach.
I've never felt this for anybody in my life.
Not like this. And now there are two who need me.
Two who depend on me. My woman and my child.
The thought settles into my bones like steel.
They are mine to protect, mine to claim, mine to keep safe from the wolves circling outside these walls.
No one will ever touch what belongs to me.
"When…" My voice comes out rough, almost reverent. "When will I see my son?"
Audra laughs softly, the sound is tired but bright, cutting through the tension like sunlight. "You're so full of it. It could be a girl, you know."
I'm about to argue—because deep in my gut I already feel it's a boy, a little warrior who'll carry my name—when the doctor's hand stills.
"Hold on… there's another sound."
The probe shifts slightly. A second, equally strong heartbeat joins the first. Twin pulses. Two tiny lives. The doctor looks up, calm but clearly surprised. "Well… that is the sound of another baby."
Audra's eyes go wide. "Another baby?"
I stare at the screen, at the two distinct flickers, and my brain short-circuits between pure, blinding joy and the overwhelming weight of responsibility.
"Twins?" The word leaves me on a stunned breath.
Twins.
Two babies.
Two pieces of Audra and me, growing inside her right now.
The possessive beast inside me roars to life, louder than ever. She's carrying my twins. My blood. My legacy. My future. I kiss her again, harder this time, my hand splaying wide over her stomach like I can shield both of them from the world with nothing but my palm and my will.
"Twins," I repeat, hearing the wonder and dark satisfaction in my voice. "Fuck, Audra… you're giving me twins."
She laughs through fresh tears, her bandaged hand coming up to cup my damaged face. "We're having twins…"
I rest my forehead against hers once more, breathing her in, the steady dual rhythm of our children filling the room like a promise and a warning all at once.
They are mine.
She is mine.
And God help anyone who ever tries to take them from me. I will end them. Slowly. Painfully. Completely.