Page 126 of Gunnar

“Seconds?” I ask when she’s done.

“No, so full.” She pats her belly, in a soft, unguarded way. My heart swells with love for my sweet, brave girl. Then I have to look away, because the pull to keep her exactly where she is overwhelms me again.

She gets to her feet slowly. “I should shower.”

I go ahead of her, turn the water on, make sure it’s warm before she steps in.

While she’s showering, I go check on the others. Torin’s on his bed, lying where he fell, out for the count. Orson is deeply asleep. I touch my hand to his forehead. No fever.

He’s going to be fine.

He wouldn’t have made it without her.

He’ll have a lot of apologizing to do when he wakes up.

When I go back to the kitchen, I put the kettle on.

The bathroom door opens. I hear her steps in the hallway, then a pause.

When I hear my bedroom door creak open, my chest tightens.

Mate, my beast murmurs.

She still wants to be there. After everything that’s happened.

I don’t go straight in. I give her time.

I hear her move back and forth a couple of times, gathering her things.

When I push the door open, she’s already in my bed, settled under the covers like she belongs there, her hair spread across the pillow, her cheeks still flushed from the shower.

I shut the door and cross the room.

“You took your time,” she says.

“I was giving you some space.”

She watches me, then shifts back to make room.

I get in beside her and pull her in, fitting her against me.

She comes easily, her body settling into mine.

The bed is warm where she’s been lying.

I slide my hand to the back of her neck and keep it there.

“Everything’s different now,” she says.

“Yeah.”

She tilts her head to look up at me. “Are you going to tell me what that means?”

I meet her eyes.

“Tomorrow.”

She studies me for a second, then nods.