27. Pregnancy
PREGNANCY
“This is your final warning,” Zenith said in front of his hoard’s steel doors.
Emre blinked sleepily, lifting his head off Zenith’s shoulder. He was always sleepy at this point in his pregnancies, it seemed. “I don’t know why you think it’s going to scare me off. It isn’t. Heck, you haven’t been scared off by Abbie and Bean.”
“But they’re pups! Not... whatever’s behind these doors.” Zenith almost seemed to be pouting.
Emre laughed. “You’re adorable.”
“Hey, that’s my line.”
“Nope! It’s my line now.” Emre tightened his hand against Zenith’s nape, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Zenith grinned and turned into the kiss, slipping his tongue inside briefly.
His stab wound had healed up nicely, thanks to some magical brownies that one of Zenith’s friends, Titan, sold at his bakery. His side was still tender, but at least he could move around without too much trouble now.
Elsewhere in the mansion, Huxton gasped. “I have an even better idea for those pickup line healing spells.”
“Nope,” Zenith said, breaking the kiss. “I will not be listening to that while I show Emre my hoard.”
“If you ever open that door,” Huxton snickered.
Zenith glowered in his butler’s direction. Could Huxton feel it through the walls? Zenith turned to the black sensor pad and eyed Emre. “I’m going to breathe fire on this. Just a small stream. Are you okay with me holding you while I do that?”
Emre gulped, but nodded.
Over the past few weeks, they’d done more exposure therapy. Emre would hold onto Bean, and Abbie would totter around Zenith while Zenith breathed flames of increasing size and intensity.
Emre could stare at a huge fireball now without wanting to bolt or break down. He could even deal with being in Zenith’s arms while the alpha was breathing fire.
“I’m okay,” he said, twitching a little.
Zenith kissed him again. Then he breathed a long, narrow plume of flame straight onto the sensor pad, tight and contained instead of big and showy.
Briefly, the flames were the coldest orange, heating up to white, before cooling down to yellow, and back up to the hottest blue.
Then the flames cut off completely, and the steel doors opened with a hiss.
“That’s amazing tech,” Emre blurted, his heart pounding. Fire still unnerved him, even if he could tolerate it a lot better now.
Zenith grinned, pleased. His pride faded quickly though, melting into nerves when the lights came on and lit up everything.
Emre looked around eagerly.
Zenith’s hoard was in a space the size of four large rooms, with small piles of gold coins along the edges of the walls. In one corner were a few briefcases and bundled stacks of cash; in another corner was an open chest filled with notebooks and bottled ink.
“I have investment accounts too,” Zenith said quietly. “The gold and cash here are not the full extent of my wealth. And like I said... I had plans to accumulate more before I began courtship.”
“Okay,” Emre said, his attention drawn to the middle of the room. “I’m not here for your money though.”
In the middle of Zenith’s hoard was a cluster of wide bookcases arranged in a semicircle. They weren’t displaying books, though.
Rather, boxes upon boxes of action figures filled the outermost bookcases, while the bookcase in the middle contained figurines that had been removed from their boxes, arranged dramatically with tiny spotlights shining on every single one of them.
Emre wriggled. “Put me down?”
Zenith made a face and set Emre on his feet, following reluctantly behind when Emre wandered closer to the figurines.
“I had a bit of an obsession,” Zenith admitted, looking away. “It began with Captain AmeriDragon and Gold Man, then it expanded to include Thoragon, Bulk, Brown Recluse, and Eagle-Eye.”
He ducked his head and fidgeted.
“Superheroes,” Emre said softly.
Zenith nodded. “I’ve always admired them, but I’m not a fighter, not really. Books and words come easier to me.”
“You’re still a hero to me,” Emre said. “Not all heroes wear capes or costumes. Some of them exist in our daily lives. I’m not sure what I’d have done if you hadn’t come along; I was running out of cash for rent, and I didn’t have a way to make more without putting both myself and Abbie in danger.”
Zenith sighed. “I only wish I’d found you earlier.”
“You saved us, Zen. You gave me—us—a chance at something better, and if your fondness for superheroes is something that played a part in that, well. I’m grateful.”
Zenith peeked up at him hopefully. Then he smiled, and Emre pulled Zenith into a hug.
“Thanks for showing me your hoard,” Emre whispered.
Zenith wriggled his eyebrows. “I could show you something more?”
“A Staff of Great Desire?” Emre grinned.
Zenith opened his mouth to reply. Before he could, Huxton’s voice rang out again.
“Before you head into the sexy times, let me tell you my idea,” the butler said excitedly. “Instead of reading the pickup line out loud, you could place it over your lover’s wound and lick it.”
Emre froze, cringing in horror.
“You could just print those words on a bandage,” Zenith said. “You don’t have to lick it.”
“Ohhh, Scribbly Master. You are brilliant. Let me forward the idea to Our Benevolent God, Dicky Mems, amen.”
Quick footsteps pattered away.
Emre and Zenith stared at each other.
“What did I just do?” Zenith said faintly.
“You just did the world a favor,” Huxton called back.
“Oh gods,” Zenith said.
“Your first aid kit will receive a major makeover,” Huxton added. “Pickup line bandages, lids that sing when you unscrew them, maybe even some purple mood lighting when you open the box. And the kit itself will be pink and black, all sexy as fuck.”
Zenith’s jaw dropped. “Wounds are not sexy.”
“That’s because you’ve been doing them wrong,” Huxton replied.
“I don’t want to know,” Zenith said, sounding close to a whine.
Emre took Zenith’s arm and turned him back to the figurines. “Tell me about these guys,” he said, to distract his alpha from sexy wound care.
Zenith beamed, and once again, Emre thought about the words hiding at the back of his throat.
Bean gave a phlegmy cough. Abbie coughed too, and Zenith’s shoulders sagged.
“They’ll be okay,” Emre said. “Abbie’s been sick before.”
Zenith’s brow furrowed. “She has?”
He looked worriedly back at her, as though if he stared hard enough, he would find a way to cure her cold permanently.
“It’ll take a few days to clear,” Emre said, leaning into Zenith’s side. “Sorry.”
“Damn it.” Zenith picked up his phone and scrolled—again—through his search results, trying to find a remedy that was more effective for the pups. “I keep looking, but they just say to feed the pups as usual. Surely there has to be something that works better.”
The realization hit Emre from nowhere: Zenith cared about the pups, really cared, as though they were his own.
Even though Emre hadn’t officially shared them with him yet.
His breath caught in his throat.
“Zenith?” said Emre’s mouth. His heart hammered.
Zenith looked over, first at Emre’s chest, then his face. “Yeah?”
“Would you like to be Abbie and Bean’s dad? With me, I mean.” Emre gulped, his heart thumping even harder than before. Why was it so scary, asking to be a... a family with Zenith? Emre blushed.
Zenith’s eyes widened. He sucked in a sharp breath and gaped. “You... want to be dads with me? I mean, you want me to be Abbie and Bean’s dad too? All of them?”
“Yes,” Emre whispered. “I think you’ll make an amazing dad.”
Zenith looked like Emre had just given him the world.
“Wow,” Zenith whispered. Then he leaned in and kissed Emre hard and sloppily because he was smiling so much. “I... I just...”
He looked lost for words. Emre’s heart thumped as Zenith pressed their foreheads together, kissing him again.
“I love you,” Zenith blurted.
Emre’s heart tumbled, then soared. “You love me?”
“Well, yes. What’s there not to love?” Zenith nuzzled him.
“You make me laugh. You love your pups so much, and you’re willing to do anything for them.
You even love the random shopping carts, and you turn all pink when you’re embarrassed.
Your mouth might be the best thing ever.
And other parts of you, of course,” Zenith said quickly. “Like your heart.”
“Not my ass?” Emre blurted. Because his foot and his mouth were best friends.
Zenith coughed, the corners of his lips twitching up. “Well, I love all of you. It just seems really tacky to mention your ass when I’m making a romantic declaration.”
Emre buried his face in his hands. “I suck.”
Zenith coughed again, his lips twitching. “No, you don’t.”
“No, I do,” Emre said. “Obviously the right thing to do would be to tell you that I love you back. And I do! I love you!” At this, Zenith lit up again, even brighter than before.
But Emre’s mouth just kept going. “It’s just that the first time I saw you, I looked at your bulge first. Not your eyes.
It wasn’t even love at first sight because I was looking your cock in the eye.
We eye-balled each other. That was terrible. Oh gods, please just shut me up.”
“I don’t know about that,” Zenith said with a grin. “I’m loving all of this.”
Emre groaned and turned back to the pups. “Save me. Your papa’s going to come to his senses and realize what he’s tangled himself in.”
“Nope,” Zenith rumbled, scooping all of them into a big hug. “Nothing you do will drive me away. Hello, pups. Looks like I’m your Papa now.”
The pups ignored him and pawed at each other.
“So is this when you’ll give me your mating bite?” Emre asked hopefully.
Zenith’s mouth curved into a warm smile. “Soon.”
Over the next few days, Zenith finished Ulgon and Burnzinger’s book. He talked to Abbie and Bean often as they got over their cold and played around his feet, and he let Emre read the completed manuscript right before he sent it to Crush and Killian, the ones who had hired him to write the book.
Emre sighed contentedly and closed the document. “Do you think it’ll happen like this in real life?”