Chapter 16 – Billy
BILLY
Something’s different.
I wake before Carla, my bear alert and attentive in a way that has nothing to do with danger. She’s curled against my chest, the mate mark on her neck still fresh, and her scent...
Her scent has changed.
It’s subtle, barely there, but my bear knows. There’s a sweetness underlying her normal scent, a richness that speaks of new life, of cubs, of family.
My mate is pregnant.
The knowledge hits me like a freight train. My heart slams against my ribs. Pregnant. With my cub. Our cub. Or pup. Either will be incredible.
I press my face against her hair, breathing deeply, my bear rumbling with satisfaction. The motel. That night when we came together in heat-driven passion. It must have happened then. My hands tremble slightly where they rest on her back.
“Mmm.” Carla stirs, nuzzling into my chest. “You’re purring.”
“Bears don’t purr,” I say automatically, though that’s exactly what I’m doing.
“Liar.” She tilts her head up, eyes still heavy with sleep. Through our bond, I feel her contentment, warm and peaceful. “What’s got your bear so happy this morning?”
You. Our cub. Our future.
But I can’t tell her. Not yet. Not until I figure out how she’ll react. We’ve only just mated. What if she’s not ready? My stomach churns with the weight of this secret.
“Billy?” She props herself up on an elbow, and the sheet slides down. Through our bond, I feel her curiosity spike. “You’re thinking very loudly.”
“Sorry.” I pull her back down, needing her close, needing to breathe in this new scent that speaks of miracles. “Just processing everything. The bond. You. Us.”
She traces patterns on my chest, her touch sending sparks through me. “It’s a lot, isn’t it? Good, though.”
“The best.”
We lie there for a while, but my mind races. The magnitude of it makes me anxious. I need advice. Marcus has been through this with Leila.
“We’re having lunch at Marcus’s today,” I blurt out.
Carla pulls back to look at me, confusion flickering across her face. “We are?”
“He invited us. Wants to see how we’re doing.” Not entirely a lie. We talk most weeks.
“Oh.” She bites her lip nervously. “Do they know about us being mated?”
“I texted them last night.” I trace the mark on her neck with one finger, watching her shiver. Successfully distracted. “They want to meet you properly.”
“Okay. Lunch with Marcus.” She takes a breath, squaring her shoulders. “I can do that.”
The morning passes too quickly. Carla makes breakfast while I pretend to read, but really, I’m watching her. Looking for signs I missed before. The way she pauses at the smell of bacon, her nose wrinkling slightly. How she unconsciously rests a hand on her stomach while waiting for toast.
My bear wants to wrap around her, to protect her from everything. The protective instinct has multiplied tenfold with this knowledge.
“You’re staring,” she says without turning from the stove.
“Can’t help it. You’re beautiful.”
She laughs, but I catch the pleased flush that’s creeping up her neck. Through the bond, her happiness warms me like sunshine.
The drive to Marcus’s feels both too long and too short. I grip the steering wheel tighter than necessary, knuckles white with tension.
Carla notices, of course. She reaches over to touch my thigh. “Hey. What’s wrong? You’ve been wound tight all morning.”
“Just want this to go well.” I manage. “Family stuff.”
She squeezes gently. “They’re your brothers. It’ll be fine.”
If she only knew what I was about to spring on her.
Marcus’s house appears too soon. Mitch’s truck is already there, and my stomach drops. More witnesses to either her joy or devastation.
“Mitch is here too?” Carla smooths her hair nervously, checking her reflection in the side mirror.
“Must have dropped by.” I take her hand before she can overthink it. “It’ll be fine.”
Marcus opens the door, expression neutral as always. But his nostrils flare slightly, and his eyes widen just a fraction. He smells it, too. His gaze flicks to me, a silent question.
“Billy. Carla.” He steps aside to let us in.
Inside, Leila’s in the kitchen while Mitch sits at the table, looking tired. Running a fractured clan is taking its toll. Dark circles shadow his eyes.
“Carla,” Mitch acknowledges with a nod. “Good to see you safe.”
“Thanks for everything you did,” she says, twisting her fingers together. “The escape, I mean.”
He waves it off, uncomfortable with gratitude. “Billy did the hard part.”
“Lunch in twenty minutes,” Leila calls out. She glances our way, and I see the moment she catches the scent. Her eyes dart to me, then Carla, then back to me. Her eyebrows rise slightly.
The kitchen suddenly feels too small, too crowded with knowing looks.
“So,” Marcus says, settling into his chair with deliberate casualness. “How are you both?”
“Good,” Carla answers, though I feel her confusion at the tension in the room. “Fantastic. The bond is... intense, but wonderful.”
“Billy?” Mitch’s eyes narrow on me. “You alright? You look like you’re about to bolt.”
My leg bounces under the table, but I force it still.
“Yeah.” My voice comes out strained. “Can I talk to you both? Privately?”
Carla frowns, turning to study my face. “Is everything okay?”
I lean over to kiss her temple, breathing in that new sweetness that makes my bear rumble. “Fine. Just... clan business. Two minutes.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but nods. Through our bond, I feel her anxiety rise. Marcus leads us to his office, movements sharp with impatience.
The door clicks shut.
“She doesn’t know,” Marcus states immediately.
“How can she not?” Mitch asks, rubbing his temple. “The scent’s obvious.”
“Wolves don’t have our noses. And it’s early. Maybe two weeks.” My hands shake as I run them through my hair. “The motel. It must have happened at the motel.”
“Of course,” Mitch says flatly.
“I don’t know how to tell her.” The words tumble out in a rush. “We literally just mated yesterday. What if she’s not ready? What if…”
“You tell her straight,” Marcus cuts in. “No point dancing around it.”
“But after everything she’s been through…”
“Then you deal with it together,” Mitch interrupts. “But Billy, you have to tell her. Secrets don’t work between mates. She’ll feel it through the bond, eventually.”
“I’m terrified.” I admit, voicing my deepest fear. “What if I’m like Dad?”
The room goes quiet, and Mitch’s expression hardens.
“You’re not.” His voice is firm. That you’re worried proves it. Dad never worried about being a good father.”
“What’s going on?”
We all turn. Carla’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed, a storm brewing in her eyes.
“I could feel your stress through the bond,” she says, looking directly at me. “And you all look guilty. What’s wrong?”
Marcus clears his throat uncomfortably. Mitch suddenly finds the window fascinating, jaw working like he’s chewing words.
They both look at me, and my mouth goes dry.
“Carla,” I start, moving toward her. “Maybe we should…”
“Billy.” Her voice is firm, but I catch the tremor underneath. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”
I take her hands. They’re trembling slightly, and I realize she’s thinking the worst. That something’s wrong with the clan, with us, with our bond.
“You’re pregnant,” I say simply.
She blinks. “What?”
“Pregnant. With our cub. Bears can smell it early. I noticed this morning.”
Her mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. “Pregnant?” Her voice is faint.
“From the motel, when you were in heat. I should have been more careful…”
“Billy.” She interrupts. “Stop talking.”
I stop.
Behind me, my brothers shift uncomfortably. Mitch coughs. Marcus’s chair creaks.
“I’m pregnant?” she asks again. Her hand moves slowly to her stomach, fingers splaying across the flat surface.
“Yes.”
“We’re having a baby?”
“Yes.”
The silence stretches. Through our bond, I feel her shock, confusion, and a whirlwind of emotions too fast to separate. Then, like the sun breaking through clouds, something else floods through.
Joy.
A smile spreads across her face slowly, then all at once, and her eyes fill with tears. “We’re having a baby!”
“You’re... happy?”
“Happy?” she laughs, launching herself at me. I catch her, spinning her around as she peppers my face with kisses. “Billy, this is amazing! We’re having a baby!”
Relief crashes through me, so hard, my knees go weak. Through our bond, her joy mingles with mine until I can’t tell where I end and she begins.
“Wait,” she says suddenly, pulling back. “Is that why you’ve all been acting strange? You could smell that I’m pregnant?”
“Bears have stronger noses,” Marcus says diplomatically.
“And none of you knew how to tell me?” She looks between them, then laughs. “The mighty Lennox brothers, stumped by pregnancy news.”
“We weren’t stumped,” Mitch mutters, ears reddening.
“Sure you weren’t.” She turns back to me, cupping my face in her hands. “Are you happy?”
“Beyond happy,” I tell her, covering her hands with mine. “My mate. My cub. Everything I never thought I’d have.”
“Our cub.” She corrects, eyes shining. “Our family.”
“Our family.” I agree, throat tight with emotion.
“Now, I need to sit down,” she says, suddenly shaky. “This is... a lot.”
Marcus gestures to the living room, clearing his throat. “Leila’s got lunch ready, anyway.”
Over sandwiches and soup, the reality seems to sink in for Carla. She keeps touching her stomach, wonder on her face. Her other hand stays linked with mine, squeezing periodically, as if reassuring herself this is real.
“How far along?” she asks.
“Two weeks, maybe three,” I tell her. “From the scent.”
“The motel,” she says softly. A blush creeps up her cheeks as she remembers. I feel the echo of heat through our bond.
“Strong swimmers,” Mitch comments dryly, earning a glare from Marcus.
“Apparently so.” Carla nearly chokes on her water, laughing. “I want to go back to work,” she announces suddenly, setting down her spoon with determination.
We all look at her.
“The coffee shop. Lucy offered me my job back. And now...” She looks down at her stomach, hand protective. “I want our cub to see me strong. Working. Living. Not hiding.”
Pride swells in my chest, so fierce, it’s hard to breathe. My brave mate, choosing life over fear once again.
“Then you should,” I tell her.
“Really?” She searches my face.
“Whatever you want. We’ll figure it out together.”
After lunch, as we’re preparing to leave, Marcus pulls me aside. His hand grips my shoulder, firm and grounding.
“You did good,” he says quietly. “Telling her straight. No games.”
“Thanks for the advice.”
He nods, then surprises me by adding, “You’ll be a good father, Billy. Better than ours ever was.”
From Marcus, that’s practically a declaration of love.
My throat goes tight.
On the drive home, Carla is quiet, but I feel her contentment through the bond, warm and golden, like the afternoon sun. She keeps one hand on her stomach, the other holding mine.
“You okay?” I ask, glancing over at a red light.
“More than okay.” She lifts our joined hands to her lips. “Scared. Excited. Happy. All of it.”
“Me too.”
“Billy?” She turns to face me fully. “We’re really doing this. Mated, baby on the way, our entire future ahead of us.”
“Having second thoughts?”
“Never.” Her fingers trace patterns on my palm. “Just marveling at how much has changed. Six weeks ago, I was in that basement. Now...”
“Now you’re free. We’re together, and we’re starting a family.”
“It’s like a dream,” she whispers.
“The best kind.” I agree.
Back at the cabin, she immediately starts making lists, doctor’s appointments, vitamins, work schedule. I watch her plan our future, her face bright with purpose, and my chest feels too full of love.
“I’ll start with morning shifts,” she decides, tapping her pen against her lips. “See how I feel. Maybe three days a week to start?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“What?” she asks, catching me staring.
“Nothing. Just... I love you.”
She sets down her pen and crosses to where I’m sitting. Without hesitation, she straddles my lap, arms winding around my neck.
“I love you, too.” She takes my hand and places it on her still-flat stomach. “Both of you love us, too.”
Through our bond, I feel her joy, her determination, and her fierce protectiveness of the life growing inside her. It mirrors my own perfectly.
“Our cub,” I murmur, splaying my fingers wide.
“Our cub.” She agrees. “Our future.”
We sit here wrapped around each other as the afternoon sun streams through the windows. From prisoner and captor’s son to mates expecting our first child.
The journey seems impossible, yet here we are.
Life is good.
Life is wonderful.