Ezekiel collapsed into an oversized sofa just inside and sighed. “My reputation is old and matured. Besides, I’m no longer bored. Not with my new purposes, anyway.”
Gabriel leaned his shoulder against the door frame and folded his arms. “Start explaining, Ezekiel. I’m done waiting.”
Owen gaped at him, his expression clearly stating his fear of retaliation from the assassin on the couch. He clearly had poor survival instinct since Gabriel was the more lethal of the two.
“Owen, this is Stark,” Ezekiel said, introducing them. “He’s a Seraphim.”
The poor kid almost fell as he hurriedly backed away from Gabriel. “The fuck is he doing here?” he asked, his voice quivering.
“He’s part of the plan.” Ezekiel sounded far too cheerful.
“And what is the plan?” Gabriel demanded.
The Ichorian grinned. “We’re going to take down Osiris.”
18
Picking the Right Path
Caro couldn’t see her feet. In one week, her belly had gone from somewhat showing to fully enlarged.
“Wow,” Sethios breathed from the doorway. He’d just been out for a run, something she could definitely not do in her current condition.
Sweat glistened on his flat abdomen, giving Caro the urge to go onto her knees and lick him clean. Except that would really hurt her back and she’d probably end up on her butt. He seemed oblivious to her plight as he sauntered forward and placed his palm on her stomach.
“You look ready to pop, Caro.”
“I feel ready to pop,” she admitted. “Our daughter has been doing somersaults inside me all morning, and I’m very ready for her to stop.” As she spoke, the little being did another kick.
Sethios’s eyes grew wide, and he dropped to his knees. “I felt that.”
“Me too.” Caro winced as their daughter repeated the action. “Gabriel rarely moved like this.”
“No, he probably just sat there and waited for you to tell him to come out. He seems like the type who enjoys being bored, anyway.” Sethios lifted her oversized dress—one he had ordered online especially for her—and placed a kiss above her belly button. This was meant not to seduce but to cherish.
Caro fell a little harder for him in that moment. Gabriel’s father never once visited her while she carried their child, nor did he bother to check on her or his son after the birth. Not that she expected him to—it wasn’t the Seraphim way.
Having this new experience to compare to, however, she found she preferred Sethios’s methods more. His presence calmed her, to the point that she was hardly sick. A significant improvement from her first experience.
“Hi, little one,” he whispered.
“Oh,” Caro moaned as their child reacted to her father’s voice and touch. “I think she likes you.”
“Of course she does,” Sethios murmured, his finger reverently stroking her stomach. “I convinced her mother to indulge in chocolate and other more gratifying activities.” He waggled his brows up at her while she rolled her eyes.
“Somehow I doubt she’ll be all that enthused by the latter.”
“It’s what created her.” He fixed her dress as he stood and slid his palm to her lower back. “It pleases her mother too.” His lips whispered over hers. “And it convinced her mother to feel.”
She grinned against his mouth. “I still don’t think she’ll want all the details.”
“Certainly not,” he agreed softly. “How are you feeling, love?”
“Heavy, hungry, and hot.”
“Alliteration, hmm?” He chuckled. “Give me five minutes to shower, and I’ll fix you something to eat.” He kissed her far too gently and wandered off, losing his shorts and socks in the process.
She leaned against their shared bed. Misting to the kitchen would take a lot out of her, and she needed her strength. If Osiris found them now, it would be hard enough to mist herself and the baby out, and she refused to leave Sethios behind.
