"My childhood was a lot like that," she said.
His eyes came up from the fire and stayed on her. "How so?"
"My dad left before I could walk. My mother worked doubles until I was ten. Then she married a man with two kids of his own."
She buttered bread and took a bite.
"They made a family. The four of them. I was the extra kid they seemed to forget existed."
Axel stayed quiet.
"Nobody was cruel," she said. "But I always felt like I was in the way. I left at eighteen and washed dishes through two years of community college. My roommate's family was kind to me. It was pretty good for a while." Axel remained silent, and she felt safe continuing to share.
"Then I met Wade. He was older and well established. I thought being picked by him meant I'd finally have a family that belonged to me. But that's not what he picked me for."
"Men like that look for a woman who's isolated."
"I had a mother and a stepfamily, a couple of friends. But I was raised not to be a problem. Wade made me believe no one cared about me." She stared out at the lake. "By the end, I believed it too."
"It was a lie," he said. "I hope you know that now."
"I'm starting to remember." She let out a long breath, wondering to herself if it was true. She was letting Axel cook for her and give her a breezy day on the lake like she used to love back in college. It was helping.
Axel lifted the peaches off the coals, the edges dark with sugar, and set them on the cutting board. "I need to tell you something."
Her stomach dropped, and she braced for disappointment. She forced herself not to catastrophize. "Okay."
"Shifters have heightened senses," he said. "Like a sense of smell. Valeria, Brie, and Stella have all been pregnant over the last three years... I know what it smells like."
She understood what he was trying to say. "You know."
"You're pregnant." He kept his eyes on her, steady and calm.
"It's true."
He cut the peaches and set them on plates. She kept expecting him to call her a slur, tell her he couldn't be with her, degrade her for her past.
"It changes the threat profile," he said. "It doesn't change how I feel about you. You're my mate. I consider your baby my responsibility the same way I feel you are. I'll protect you both with my life."
She picked up the peach and ate it. It tasted like smoke and sugar. She finished it, even though her eyes stung a little. From tears or smoke, she wasn't sure.
"When are you due?"
"November."
He nodded once, taking that in. "Have you seen a doctor here yet?"
"Not yet."
"Then that's the next thing we solve." His voice stayed even. "Not tonight. Not unless you want to. But soon."
She looked down at the peach on her plate. "Okay."
The fire popped softly between them. Somewhere out on the water, a fish broke the surface, and the rings widened toward shore.
"Thank you," she said.
"We should get you home now. It's getting late. We'll talk more when you're ready."
