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Michael drew me closer as we approached the cottage. “Sweetheart. You’ve seen the future. You are alive, and well, with two babies... are you not?”
He had a point. “Yes.”
We walked up the steps to the cottage and Michael kissed my lips. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
I nodded. “Oh, yes please.”
He opened the door. “You rest. It won’t be long.”
I sat down on my favorite couch, then laid down with my head on a pillow when a wave of nausea passed over me.
It was true that I was Xander and Kyle’s fated mate and that made me different.
It was true that I was a witch and Marguerite would not have included that in her curse.
But what was also true was that many women and babies had died due to this horrible spell and I didn’t want to be next. Nothing Michael had said had truly allayed my fears. And nothing would. Not until I was holding my baby and both of our hearts still beat.
Chapter 13.
Michael
Over the next month, we all watched Monique like a hawk. Even the other wolf shifters in town were on alert in relation to her wellbeing. Everywhere we went, someone stopped us to ask how she was going.
“Why do they keep doing that?” Monique asked one day, when we were coming back from the shops.
I shrugged. “I’d say they’re trying to make up for your first month, when they were being ass hats. That’s all.”
She’d smiled and we continued on with our day
Of course, I knew there was a lot more to their continued expressions of interest than making up for bad behavior. The whole pack looked at Monique as if her survival was the main measure of theirs. If she proved that mating outside of the pack was possible, then the wolves would leave in droves.
Something the Alpha, and Max, didn’t want.
Several weeks passed without incident, and finally the four of us got into a rhythm that felt natural. We worked, and spent time together, and as her pregnancy progressed, Monique began to feel better. Life seemed to be great, at last.
“How’s the house looking?” she asked one morning over breakfast.
