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When she first arrived in the clan, defiant and determined on starving, I didn’t dare hope she would hold out for me. It just goes to show that my wolf is always right and that as a male, I’m often as stubborn as my mate.
I have a goddess to thank as well, namely for Doug’s misfortune. His death turned out to be a start of my life in a way, a new hope for the entire clan. At this time, we have not one, but two breeders, and with Mackenzie, who ran with me tonight and accepted the catch of two of my males after, we could have three.
Good fortune arrived with Marybell.
“Aren’t I?” Marybell asks again, pulling me out of my head.
“You are, mate. The best.” Since we’re connected, I bring her closer and nuzzle her neck. She hands me the blanket so I can cover us, and we lie there watching the snow fall over the lake.
“I have to tell you something,” she says. Immediately, I go on alert, bracing for bad news.
“I love your cabin,” she says.
I sigh. Damn near stroked out expecting terrible things to come out of her mouth. Instead, she loves our home. “Tell me more.”
“The first time I came here, I never wanted to leave.”
“Huh.”
Marybell chuckles. “It’s quiet and serene. The snow outside in comparison with the warmth inside… It’s quite perfect, Seith.”
“Knowing that you love your home makes me very happy.”
“It’s your scent in it. It makes the home feel safe. I didn’t quite put it all together until now. Being with you here feels as if the space was designed for us. I can’t explain it.”
“Marybell, I swear to Natra, the things that come out of your mouth are the finest things I’ve ever heard. You should become a clan speaker.”
“You think so?”
“No. That’s a bad idea because it means you’ll be busy when I want you all to meself.”
“All to yourself and barefoot?”
“And don’t forget pregnant. Very, very pregnant, Marybell.”
She’s quiet, and I dislike her silence on this topic. “One litter is all I ask.”
She twists her body so she can look at me, and I rise on my elbow to make it easier for her to see me while we have this conversation. I could have us face each other if I deflated the knob that connects us, but I don’t. Maybe I never will. Blowing up my knob inside my mate and ensuring not a single swimmer escapes before seeding her makes me quite happy. I aim to be happy from now on. Enough with the misery or even barely getting by.
Her brown eyes are almost hazel, they’re so bright, and I wonder if the mating bond between us makes it possible for her to share some of my lycan magic. Maybe. Maybe not. I’ll never know for sure, for I don’t control the magic. The lycan goddess does.
“It’s a baby, not a litter,” she says, a small smile playing over her lips. Marybell likes to argue with me. She’s vocal and sweet and sassy. I’m crazy about her. “Right?”
“Hm?”
“Baby. I’ll have a baby and not a litter?”
It takes me a moment to realize she seeks confirmation she won’t have a litter of pups. I laugh. I can’t help it. It’s her Kilseleian background that takes the termlitterat face value. Lycans use the term liberally. “Marybell, you will have a baby. And I ask for only one.”
“Why only one?”
I frown. “You seem to be against offspring.”
“I’m not. If you’re thinking of the tea Fleur brought, I didn’t ask for it.”
“But you thought about brewing it.”
Marybell nods. “Lycans get mates. And you live long lives with them. Gloriana is now tied to Lenox’s lifespan. If I were not tied with yours, I would grow old, and you would grow uninterested. Besides, if I wasn’t yours and we had children, how would I survive when and if you ever got your mate? It would break my heart, and I would hate that because, you see, I would love you. I would love you, fiercely.”
