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“They’ll just say I’m forcing him to say that or that he’s a doddering old man who doesn’t want to admit that his son is an evil shadow prince.”
“Okay, then Christopher,” I say, pointing a finger at his chest. “He believes you. We get him to help talk to the others, convince them that—”
“There’s no time, Willow.” Maxim cuts in. “He’s one man and there’s no way he’ll be able to change enough minds in two weeks, even if Bane and Kelley don’t catch on to what he’s doing and have him eliminated. These people think this is all going to be decided quickly, and they’re prepared to help the prophecy along with well-planned, coordinated violence. The best way to throw a wrench in all of this and throw them off their game is to make it look like we’re the chosen couple. Then, once you’re pregnant, we can work on defusing things further.”
I shake my head, the image of my dream self and her swollen stomach and helpless eyes sending panic dumping into my blood. “No. I’m not going to be forced to have a baby I’m not ready for, Maxim. No way.”
“Please,” he says, “just think about it? Think about it tonight, talk to the fertility expert in the morning, and we’ll reconnect tomorrow afternoon.” I pull in a breath, but he pushes on before I can speak, “And I’ll do some thinking, too. I’ll do my best to find another way. I promise. But if I can’t…”
He steps closer, lifting a hand to my throat.
I fully intend to step away, but the feel of his fingers sliding over my skin and into my hair is so damned delicious, I find myself rooted in place, staring up into his dark, glittering eyes as he whispers, “There are worse things than having a baby with a man who would lay down his life to protect his child.”
“Would you?” I challenge softly. “Really?”
“I would,” he says. “In a heartbeat. And the same applies to you. Once you’re carrying our baby, anyone who plans to hurt you will have to come through me, little wolf. I swear that to you on everything that matters. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
I swallow, fighting to ignore the way my body hums with longing to get closer to him. I’m horrified that he’s even considering forcing me to get pregnant, but I still want to taste him, touch him, feel his arms around me holding me tight.
“I don’t know what to feel right now,” I say in a rough voice. “What do you do when the bad guy and the person you trust to protect you from the bad guys are the same person?”
Pain tightens his features. “What do you do when you want to kill the man who raped your mate and…feel like you have no choice but to do the same thing?”
“It wouldn’t be rape,” I confess, tears rising in my eyes. “All you have to do is touch me and…I can’t help myself. I want you. So much. Even though I hate myself for it sometimes.”
“Don’t hate yourself,” he murmurs, his lips moving closer. “You’re too good to hate. Too good for me, most likely, but…I’ll try, little wolf. Work with me, help me help my people, and I swear I’ll try like hell to give you what you need.”
My lips part, but whatever I planned to say is swallowed up by a wave of desire as his mouth meets mine.
The kiss is soft and sweet, nothing like the passionate dance of lips, teeth, and tongue the last time we were this close, but instantly I’m desperate for more of him. I want him on top of me, pushing between my legs, claiming me as his, easing the hunger that gets stronger every time we touch. I want to kiss every inch of his beautiful body, from the furrow between his brows to the thick muscles in his arms to that part of him I can feel pulsing against my belly as he draws me closer.
And this longing is born from more than physical hunger. I want to comfort him, to ease his pain, to be the place where this powerful man can let down his guard and know he’ll still be safe, even when he’s hurting and scared.
I want to love him, but how can I?
When it’s obvious he doesn’t feel the same way?
I pull back, tears rising in my eyes as I take another step and then another, until there’s enough space between us for me to feel safe lifting my chin and meeting his gaze again. “I need some time. To myself. To think.”
He nods stiffly. “All right. Should we meet for lunch tomorrow? Continue this conversation then?”
“I doubt I’ll have much of an appetite.” I cross my arms over my chest. “But sure. I’ll be ready at noon.”
“I’ll pick you up then,” he says, collecting the tablet from the counter and starting toward the door. But before he reaches the entryway, he turns and says, “Diana is staying with a friend for the next few weeks, by the way. I thought it would be best if she didn’t overhear our conversation tonight or…anything else.”
Anything else like her brother trying to forcibly impregnate me? I wonder, but I don’t say the words aloud.
I’m angry, but there’s too much at stake to let anger call the shots. I have to think, to consider everything I’ve learned tonight, and to prepare myself to win this battle. I can’t afford to alienate Maxim by popping off without thinking.
So, I simply nod and say, “All right. See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” he echoes.
As soon as the door closes behind him, I hurry to the bathroom, where I ask my reflection question after question about Kelley and Bane and Maxim and the baby he feels so certain we have to conceive, but my pack gift remains frustratingly silent.
I don’t know if it simply has no light to shed on these things or if it’s gone dormant again because I’m so damned stressed out or something, but after an hour of talking to myself, I admit defeat. I’m exhausted and overwhelmed and the best thing I can do for that is to get a good night’s sleep and consider everything again tomorrow with a clear head.
And there’s always a chance I’ll have another prophetic dream.
