“Is that what you want?”
He reached out and tugged gently on one of my braids, his expression thoughtful.“You’re thinking about your grandmother’s journal.What’s this really about?”
His gaze held mine, and I wondered if he could ever truly understand how much I loved him.Probably not.“The white picket fence, a dog by the hearth, a baby crawling on the floor.Is that life even possible?”
His voice dropped an octave.“Is that what you want, Marinah?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
He kissed the tip of my nose.“I think you’d be bored within a week.Maybe we could compromise and find a big, furry devil dog to entertain your devil cat.”His thumb brushed across my cheek.“As for children, it’s expected of us.And when we have them, they’ll be alpha Warriors.”
I shifted slightly in his arms, loosening his hold without pulling away.“What if they want to be ordinary?”
He threw his head back and barked out a carefree laugh.“There will be nothing ordinary about our children,” he said when he could breathe again.“Our girls will be headstrong, beautiful bullies who tease their male counterparts and put frogs in their beds.The boys will be as handsome as their father and won’t know what hit them when the girls are around.Much like your men, they’ll constantly be searching for places to hide.”
“Our men,” I corrected, arching a brow.“And just how many children do you think we’re having?”I asked, trying to keep the laughter from my voice.
“A citadel full, at least,” he replied with a wicked grin.
I gave his stomach a firm jab.He let out a soft huff, though I knew it didn’t hurt him.“You forget,” I said, narrowing my eyes, “it’s my body that has to bear the citadel full of children.”
“I picture you plump and grumpy, waddling through the citadel looking for a wall to put your boot through,” King teased.
“What about our home?I thought we’d raise our family there,” I asked, half-serious.
“How?It won’t hold all our children, and I like the walls there without boot prints.”
I snuggled closer, letting his warmth calm the unease running through me.“I love you,” I said softly.
He tipped my chin up, his gaze locking with mine.“Nothing will happen to either of us.We’re a team.I love you, my queen.We have a war to fight.Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Our noses touched.“You’ve done an incredible job preparing the island,” he said.“We’ll defeat the Federation, and afterward, we’ll go after Barnes.His days are numbered.”
Mate,Ms.Beast whispered inside me.
We took the winding ocean highway back to the citadel, the wind rushing past us as we raced against the storm of battle.My gut churned with unease.No way would this go down without a hitch.I wanted our people safe, every last one of them.A loud rumble echoed inside me, and Ms.Beast whispered one word:kill.We were fully on the same page this time.I’d kill every Federation soldier I came across if it meant saving our people.
Once we arrived at the citadel, King and I split up.He had his tasks, and I had mine.My destination was the Armory to check on the dynamic duo.Rounding a corner too quickly, I almost knocked Cosway over.I grabbed her shoulders to steady her, and her wild eyes met mine, her cat perched awkwardly on her shoulder.
“Babies in danger, must help babies,” she whispered urgently.
Cosway believed anything young, human or animal, was a baby needing her care.The island’s unofficial nurturer, she’d hand out candy to the children and even patch up scraped knees.Once, I’d asked if she wanted to assist Axel in the infirmary, but enclosed spaces were unbearable for her.Instead, she roamed the island, offering help wherever she could, her cat always draped over her like a living scarf.
People returned her kindness with small gifts, tokens of their appreciation.She was integral to the island, accepted and cherished like family.Seeing her so distressed now put me on edge.Something was wrong.
“Cosway,” I said gently, drawing her attention.“Take five minutes and center yourself with me.”
She nodded and sank to the floor where she stood, pressing her back against the wall.I followed, sitting beside her.“Breathe,” she murmured softly, her lilting voice as soothing as ever.I mirrored her, drawing in a deep breath.“Bad out, good in,” she continued, guiding our slow inhales and exhales.
As her voice softened into a comforting hum, I drifted to my sanctuary.In my mind, I disassembled my rifle, reassembled it, and lined up the sight.Through the scope, I stared into the cold, dead eyes of an imaginary Federation soldier.My hands were steady, my aim precise.I pulled the trigger and watched his head explode.In my imagination, he wore President Barnes’ face.I lined up another shot, ready for the next target, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly with each imagined kill.
Cosway’s voice gently broke through my focus.“I will keep the babies safe,” she whispered, stroking the fur of her cat nestled in her lap.
“Thank you, Cosway,” I said earnestly.“The babies need you.”
She reached over, squeezed my hand, then sprang to her feet and dashed down the hall in the opposite direction, her cat clinging to her as if accustomed to this routine.
