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Somehow, the top half of his face remains stunned as the bottom half splits into a huge grin. “You’re pregnant.”

CHAPTER 48

I laugh in Nathan’s face.

“I’m not joking.” He laughs, but not in disbelief. He’s overjoyed.

“Right.” I’m not falling for it. “You can’t possibly tell that from some pussy juice.”

He arches an eyebrow. “I’m more than willing to check again.”

I smack his shoulder. “Be serious!”

“I am being serious. Bailey, I know you inside and out, physically. You smell different, you taste different,” he holds up his hands to indicate his helplessness. “I wouldn’t joke about something I want so badly.”

That’s a good point. Nathan does want an heir. It doesn’t seem like something he would joke about.

But I can’t get my head around it. Not just the part where he can tell from the way I taste, but the fact that he noticed before I did. That he noticed something the thralls didn’t even notice. “They did surgery on me, though. They must have tested me.”

“It would have been too soon to tell,” he reminds me. “You were attacked the morning after the last time we had sex.”

He’s right. That would have been way too early.

Nathan pulls his phone from the pocket of his sweats and hits a button. I don’t know who he’s calling at four in the morning, but he’s agitated and pacing in front of my desk.

I sit down on the sofa, tentatively putting my hand on my stomach. Pregnant? That can’t be right. It takes a long time to get pregnant. Nathan and I haven’t even had sex that many times.

But what had mother always warned? It only takes once.

What if I am pregnant?

“Rob,” Nathan snaps into the phone. “It’s urgent. We need a pregnancy test.”

“It’s not that urgent,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “It can wait until morning.”

Nathan frowns at me and says, “It is morning,” and I’m not sure if he’s responding to me or scolding whoever Rob is.

I think Rob might be his secretary.

“Why don’t you just chill out a little,” I suggest. “Let’s go to bed, do a test in the morning, and see where we go from there. If I’m pregnant now, I’ll still be pregnant in a few hours. Plus, it’s not like we would announce it yet.”

Nathan hangs up on Rob. Just hangs up, doesn’t say goodbye or provide any clarification or further orders. He slips his phone back in his pocket. “Why wouldn’t we announce it?”

“Because we’re about to execute a bunch of people. One of those is going to be insanely gruesome.” I’m not about to let our joyous news get muddled up in all that. “Do you really want our baby overshadowed by that?”

“Our baby,” he says slowly, as if it only just occurred to him that a baby would be the end result of the potential pregnancy.

“Be patient,” I advise him. “This isn’t just about you. It’s about us as family.”

“And waiting to make the announcement after the executions might be a palate cleanser,” he points out.

“You’re forcing members of the pack to commit cannibalism. Nothing is going to make that palatable.” When he doesn’t have anything to say to that, I confess, “I eavesdropped on your conversation with Amber. And I hope I can say this without getting dumped, too, but… she’s right.”

Nathan comes back to the sofa and sits. This time, he sprawls out more, and I have to focus on the things he’s saying and not get distracted by what those gray sweatpants are highlighting.

Unexplained, mystical attraction might seem hot in stories, but in real life it’s super inconvenient.

“I didn’t break things off with Amber because she offered her opinion. I broke things off with her because of how the relationship affected you,” he reminds me. “Amber advised me on a great many issues with the pack.”

Another reason it’s good for her to be as gone as possible.

Nathan continues, “What you both must understand is that if I back down now, if I rescind their sentences, I look weak.”

“Maybe not.” I try to sit beside him without being directly in his lap, I don’t get much choice, considering he’s got one leg on the couch and one on the floor. It doesn’t matter; the moment I sit, he pulls me closer, so I have to lay with my head on his chest and my back to his stomach. The position makes it difficult to concentrate. “What if you blamed it on me? Said that I have a weak constitution or something and I begged for mercy for those who would have to commit the actual act. I don’t want mercy for Ashton, obviously. Cut his head off. But the rest of them—”

“There aren’t many left,” he notes. “Most of them became quite cooperative with our investigation when faced with the consequence.”

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