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“Are you telling me you haven’t had sex with your husband in the last eight weeks or so?” he challenged. “It takes eight weeks for a wolf to go dormant once you become pregnant.”
He said it like I needed reminding. I knew how wolves and pregnancy worked. It took eight weeks for a female wolf to go dormant once a woman was pregnant. It was basic wolf biology—something we all learned.
“I’m not…” I couldn’t be pregnant. I just couldn’t be. “Oh… no. I don’t want… this.”
“It doesn’t matter what you want right now,” he told me. “You need to leave Cedar Harbor. Now.”
“Why?”
“Because if Killian and his brothers die, you’re carrying the only hope for the entire future of your race. You and that baby have to live, Genevieve. You need to leave. Right now. Before she comes for you.”
Chapter 117
Killian
Fuck me. Everything hurt.
Everything hurt in a way that made me want to crawl into a fucking hole and disappear. My wolf echoed my sentiment, growling deep in my chest.
Fuck. There went that plan out the goddamn window. Had to assume Lane had a fucking reason for doing it.
I blinked slowly to make my vision clear and found myself staring at our dining room chandelier. How the fuck? I lay there, listening to the conversation in the house and picking out the voices that I could. Gabby. Lane. Finn. Nolan. Small and incredibly odd group.
“Are you going to keep pretending to sleep?” Genevieve’s soft voice in my ear made me smile. I rolled my head to see her watching me with her arms crossed and her chin resting on them. God, she was fucking stunning.
“I love you,” I whispered. That pretty fucking smile was my reward. “Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.”
“I love you too.” She brushed her fingers through my hair, and I sighed, my eyes sliding shut. “You almost died.”
“Do you hate me?”
“I’ll never hate you.”
“You should,” I told her in earnest. “You deserve—”
“Stop talking, Killian Byrne,” Genevieve interrupted. “You’re just talking stupid.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied.
“I kind of like that,” she said with a small laugh.
“Don’t get used to it,” I scoffed. No way in hell was that exchange of power happening. I liked bossing my bratty little sub around. Giving up on trying to categorize what fucking hurt and what didn’t, I sat up. The process was fucking torture. I kept the momentum going and forced myself off the table. Genevieve was there to steady me as I swayed. I took the chance to wrap an arm around her and bury my head in her neck as the pain hit like a fucking truck.
“Take it easy, boy,” Lane said. “You’ve been through hell, and all the magic won’t fucking help.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. My nerves were shot and on fire, making my stomach roll.
“Tell me you love me,” I muttered into her neck, desperate for a distraction.
“I love you,” Genevieve replied. Her arm tightened around my waist, and I groaned. “I’m sorry.”
“Say it again.”
“I’m sorry—”
“No,” I interrupted. “Tell me you love me again.”
“I love you.” I could hear the smile in her voice. It did things to calm the storm inside me and made the pain more bearable. “What do you need?”
