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“And twenty fingers,” Killian said. I nodded and kept nodding as he worked it out. “And four feet. And twenty toes. That’s two babies, Genevieve. Like two full babies.”
“Well, they’re nine weeks right now,” I corrected. “We haven’t gotten to the full baby part.”
“But that’s two babies!” he exclaimed. God, I was trying so hard not to laugh at him. “That automatically levels the fucking playing field! Two of them and two of us! And when it’s just one of us, we’re automatically outnumbered. I only have two fucking hands!”
“And ten fingers,” I teased. I couldn’t help myself. From the look he shot me, he wasn’t impressed.
“That’s two of everything,” he stated. “And what if we can’t tell them apart?”
“We’ll be able to tell them apart,” I assured him.
“Is it wrong to color code your kids?”
“Ian!”
“Fuck me.” He exhaled as his head thunked against the headboard. “Twins?”
“Twins,” I confirmed.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.” I leaned back against him, closing my eyes. “Can I get back to you on that?”
“Please do. Get some sleep, baby girl.” His voice drifted. Maybe it was me. Maybe it was him. I wasn’t sure, but the comfort of him being there tugged on the exhaustion nagging at every corner of my brain. His whisper weaved through my mind as sleep took over, “Fuck, we’re having twins.”
Chapter 131
Killian
Ifelt it—that small tug of magic—long before he made an appearance. My skin prickled as I took another long drag from my cigarette. I watched tendrils of smoke dance in the city lights from my spot leaning over the rail of the room’s balcony.
“Hello, Lane,” I greeted quietly. It was a full fifteen seconds before Lane joined me, appearing out of nowhere. He made a quiet sound as he settled next to me.
“Interesting,” he murmured. I could feel the weight of his gaze but didn’t bother looking at him.
“You want to tell me what you’re looking for?” I asked. “It might save you some time.”
“You retained my magic,” Lane replied.
“And what exactly does that fucking mean?”
“I don’t know yet. We’ll find out.”
“Why does that sound fucking ominous?” I turned to him. “I’m not one of your experiments, Lane.”
“Yes, you are. And you asked for it,” he corrected. I sighed. He was right. My ass was his, and I’d asked for it. “But we’ll save that shit for another fucking day.”
I rolled my eyes. How I loved the fucking sound of that.
“What’re you doing here?” I asked. “Or did you come to check up on me?”
“How is Nolan?” His question gave me pause. It wasn’t one I was expecting. He rarely got personally invested.
“He’s… I don’t know,” I told him. “I gave him my life-pak. That seemed to help some, but she did a fucking number on him. He’s alive though. So is Genevieve. I think the whole lot of us are just fucking grateful that everyone survived.”
All of us surviving was a fucking win in my book—even if Nolan was a mess.
“Your family wasn’t without losses,” Lane said quietly. “I can sense a wolf at any given time. It’s part of what I am. When I brought Nolan here… I didn’t feel his wolf.”
