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Gage: I never claimed to be anything else.
Blake:If she’s not already pregnant, maybe hold off on the baby making.
Gage: You know the mission.
Blake:Yeah, to get to a new normal. To recreate civilizations, and part of that is making children. But there are other ways, man. You don’t have to hate each other. You don’t have to go to every extreme. Learn to adapt. For her. Back off. Let her decide if she wants to carry your children into the next generation of bullshit. That is, if she still has a choice.
A sickening feeling twists in my gut, because I’ve created a runaway train, and there is no adapting at this point.
Chances are, she is pregnant, and if that’s the case, I can’t let her go. Not now. Not ever. Remi and the child will be my responsibility, and the Keep will side with me on that.
And she’ll hate me.
On the off chance she’s not pregnant, she’ll demand to leave. I could force her to stay. It would be so easy. But I don’t want to. I would hate myself even more than I already do.
In completing one of the most important missions the Keep has established, I’ve doomed myself to misery.
Gage: Enough about me. How are things?
Blake:I have something to tell ya, man, and you’re not going to like it.
Gage: What’s up?
Blake:I’m leaving the territory.
Gage: Are you authorized?
Blake:No.
Gage: Then you can’t. You don’t know what’s going on in the other cities.
Blake:Shit, man—don’t give me that crap. I can take care of myself.
Gage: You’re being—
Blake:You don’t understand. And I don’t expect you to. Give it a rest.
Gage: You coming back?
Blake:I hope. If I do, I’ll have two people with me.
Gage: You gunning for a harem?
Blake:No. You’ll see. Just, please, if you’re ever not busy, say a little prayer for me.
Gage: I’ll have a few words with the God of War.
Blake:It was nice talking to ya.
Gage: I wish I could say the same.
Fuck—everything’s gotten so goddamn complicated. This was supposed to be about finding a suitable mate to bring back to the Keep, but Remi makes it so damn complicated.
I don’t want her to hate me, because I feel so much for her. Strange and foreign things that I’ve never felt for anyone. I’d face a thousand ragers for her, and not just because she’s carrying my child.
I feel it in my bones, a desire so palpable—so true—it makes me see a world that never existed to me before. One where I’m spooned around her, my hand on her growing belly. One where she kisses me outside of the negotiation we set for ourselves.
One where she loves me.
I can’t let her know this, because there’s no room for soft feelings anymore. I have to keep away. There’s no fucking way I can see her with how messed up I am.
Because for once in my life, I’ve lost control.
