AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Within moments, the masquerade attendees had dispersed into a messy, drunken pack … nipping, yowling, and stumbling over furniture and each other. Their earlier pretensions of civility were long forgotten in the excited press to answer the call of the wild under the bewitching full moon.
He led the mixed pack racing under the glowing moon, freed from his own circling worries. Their howls joined as one as they hurtled through the forest.
The drunken animals tripped over roots, hopping on three legs and then righting themselves, tongues lolling happily. One dazed female simply toppled mid-stride in a furry, giggling heap until two others dragged her upright. Chaos unfolded as Callum's best friend and fiercest fighter misjudged a turn and slammed directly into a sturdy oak. As he tumbled backward in a stunned pile of fur, the rest of the pack descended into hysterical yips and howls.
A stray scent of deer distracted the shambling crew, sending them on a poorly coordinated chase after the unfortunate prey. Callum growled with amusement as the pack's speed disintegrated into a zigzagging, tripping mess. At least their lupine foolishness finally allowed brief repose from the disquieting issue awaiting his human form.
Loping easily ahead of the drunken pack, Callum felt enveloped by a bittersweet dichotomy. Here, leading his wolves under the moon, not a care or responsibility, weighed on his true form. He was utterly free.
Yet still, ingrained obligation coursed through him as he perpetually monitored the reckless, silly pack gamboling behind.
He was their caretaker, their alpha father in every form. It was his duty to nurture and instruct.
Soon, his own helpless pup would rely solely on him and would require even more profound devotion and wisdom to shepherd it through the vulnerabilities of childhood, instilling strength and values.
Could he possibly balance that while still serving the broader needs of the Silver Claws? His pack had to come first … and yet wasn't a new family part of the pack as well in wolf culture?
ELEVEN
FIONA
Fiona woke early the next morning, still feeling residual panic from the night before. Could a home pregnancy test be inaccurate this soon? Clinging to fragile hope, she rushed out the door to purchase several more brands, lining her entire bathroom wall with the colorful, hopeful tests.
All of them.
All of them declared her to be pregnant.
Over the next excruciating hours, her optimism crumbled. Twin pink lines, plus signs, and the stark wordPregnantemerged undeniably over and over. Surrounded by a sea of positive tests, she dropped her head into her hands and cried.
There was nothing else to do but cry. She had to surrender to the facts glaring up from all angles. Callum's wolfish suspicion had been right. His supernatural virility had bested her.
Now, she carried his child, a daughter or son, with the blood of shapeshifters. What did that even mean? She rested a hand tentatively on her still-flat stomach, infinitely unprepared to nurture new life within, let alone offspring inheriting supernatural DNA and traits from its father.
Overwhelmed by the life-altering certainty, she began to weep harder. Having nobody in the world at all to turn to,she mourned alone in her one-bedroom apartment for the loss of her carefree independence, now chained by unexpected responsibility. The one comfort was the hope that she would surely see Callum again soon. This news indelibly bound their fates, for better or worse.
Fiona hugged herself on her bathroom floor, the cool linoleum grounding her as she struggled to process the enormity of her new reality. Outside the bathroom, she could hear her phone ringing incessantly, and finally, after the fourteenth or fifteenth call, she built up the courage and retrieved it.
She winced at the barrage of unread texts and missed calls, her friends desperately trying to figure out why she had abruptly abandoned them and the masquerade last night without a word.
But she could not even begin to bear to explain over the phone. She turned off call notifications and then shoved the device into her bag. There were no words to convey the shocking twist her life had just taken thanks to Callum and the potent fertility of shifter males.
She yearned to talk to him, the one person who could truly understand the gravity of what had transpired between them under the full moon. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she waited in dreadful limbo for him to make the next move. Surely, together, they could determine what came next …
Lost in turbulent thought, Fiona startled violently at the harsh buzz of her apartment intercom. Heart lurching, she apprehensively asked who was there. The familiar, deep voice that replied sent both relief and anxiety swirling within her.
“Hey … It’s Callum. Can we talk?”
She contemplated refusing him entry, avoiding the certainty they now faced a little longer. "Go away," she said bluntly into the intercom. She lifted her finger to disconnect before Callum could respond.
"Wait." His urgent voice halted her. "I come bearing breakfast. Fresh hot coffee, pancakes, eggs, crispy bacon, extra hashbrowns …”
Fiona's finger wavered as her traitorous stomach growled loudly at the savory description, mouth flooding. Well, damn, if she hadn’t been craving a big, greasy breakfast all morning.
Before Callum finished listing further temptations, Fiona caved. Buzzing him in, she rushed to make herself and the apartment slightly more presentable for his visit.
Arms already laden with a landslide of teetering pregnancy tests from the counter, she swung open her closet door with an elbow. Hastily dumping everything in her grasp onto an existing pile, she then used both now-freed hands to shove the entire mess fully into the back of the closet.
Satisfied it was out of sight, she swung the door closed just as the elevator sounded to announce Callum's imminent entry. Nearly stumbling in her haste, Fiona raced toward the front door as a firm knock sounded, signaling Callum's arrival.
