SIXTY-FIVE
Beth fell in love with her son at that moment.
As Wrath howled at the moon with fatherly pride, she smiled through her tears and worry. It had been so long since she’d seen him well and truly happy—and yet here he was, in the midst of news she’d expected him to freak out about, shining like the sun.
And their son was the cause of it.
“Where the hell is everybody,” he bitched as he glared up the stairs.
“You just called them about two seconds ago—”
People came at a dead run, a traffic jam forming at the top of the stairs in spite of the fact that the thing was huge, the sound of big feet thundering down to the foyer as the Brothers came with their mates in tow.
“Here,” she said, taking out a flimsy slip of paper. “Show them this—it’s a picture from the ultrasound.”
Wrath shifted her around so he was holding her with one arm—and he took that pic and thrust it out like it was billboard size and made of gold.
“Look!” he barked. “Look! My son! My son!”
Beth had to laugh even as her tears ran harder.
“Look!”
His Brothers formed a circle around what he was holding out, and she was astonished … every one of them had a sheen across their eyes, their manly, tight smiles proof they were holding their emotions in check.
And then she looked at Tohr. He was hanging back, with Autumn close to his side. As his mate glanced up in concern, he seemed to brace himself to come forward.
“I’m so happy for you,” the Brother said roughly to both of them.
“Oh, Tohr,” she blurted, reaching out her hands.
As the Brother clasped them, Wrath dropped his arm as if hiding the picture.
“No,” Tohr cut in. “You keep that up, you feel that pride. I have a good feeling about this, and I’m rejoicing with you—all the way.”
“Ah, fuck,” Wrath said, yanking the Brother in for a hard embrace. “Thanks, my man.”
There were so many voices, and people congratulating them, but there was one other face she wanted to see.
John was also staying on the periphery, but as he caught her eye, he started to smile—although it wasn’t like Wrath’s. He was worried.
I’m going to be fine, she mouthed.
Even though she wasn’t sure she believed that. She blamed herself for not knowing she was pregnant, for trying to get that needing of hers started falsely—and especially for succeeding. What if that violent nausea had been a miscarriage in the making? What if—
Pulling herself back from the brink, she held on to two things—one, she’d heard that heartbeat, nice and strong; and two, the doctor had raved about the baby.
Abruptly, the sea of people parted … and then there they were.
Bella, with Nalla in her arms, Z standing beside his girls.
Beth broke down all over again as the female came forward. God, it was impossible not to remember how Nalla had started this, putting into motion the need that had become undeniable.
Bella was tearing up, too, as she stopped. “We just want to say yay!”
At that moment, Nalla reached out to Beth, a gummy smile on her face, pure joy radiating out.
No turning that down, nope, not at all.
Beth took the little girl out of her mother’s arms and positioned her on her chest, capturing one of the pinwheeling hands and giving kisses, kisses, kisses.
“You ready to be a big…” Beth glanced at Z and then her husband. “…a big sister?”
Yes, Beth thought. Because that’s what the Brotherhood and their families were. Close as siblings, tighter than blood because they were chosen.
“Yes, she is,” Bella said as she wiped under her eyes and looked back at Z. “She is so ready.”
“My brother.” Z shoved out his palm, his scarred face in a half smile, his yellow eyes warm. “Congratulations.”
Instead of shaking anything, Wrath shoved that ultrasound picture into his Brother’s face. “Do you see him? See my son? He’s big, right, Beth?”
She kissed Nalla’s supersoft hair. “Yes.”
“Big and healthy, right?”
Beth laughed some more. “Big and healthy. Absolutely perfect.”
“Perfect!” Wrath bellowed. “And this is a doctor saying it—I mean, she went to medical school.”
Even Z started laughing at that point.
Beth gave Nalla back to her parents. “And Dr. Sam told me she’s delivered over fifteen thousand babies over the course of her career—”
“See!” Wrath yelled. “She knows these things. My son is perfect! Where’s the champagne? Fritz! Get the fucking champagne!”
Shaking her head, Beth took a deep breath and decided to go with the moment. There was still a long haul in front of them, capped off with the delivery—which, Christ, was scaring the shit out of her already. With so many hurdles ahead, and so many unknowns, it was tempting to get lost in a tailspin.
But for the next hour, she just wanted to live with Wrath in all this high-octane joy—be a part of the celebration of this miracle.
So damn funny: All the while they had been fighting about children … they’d already had one cooking.
Life was really ironic sometimes.
Lounging back in her husband’s arms, she just enjoyed watching him as he clapped his Brothers on the back, and even accepted a flute of Cristal from Fritz.
Her hellren was a tall guy. But right now? He put Mount Everest to shame.
“You can put me down,” she said with a smile.
The frown that got shot her way was a brick wall if she’d ever seen one. “Absolutely not! You’re my wife, and you’re carrying my child. You’ll be lucky if I let your feet touch the floor three years from now.”
With that, he bent in and kissed her on the mouth.
Ah, hell, maybe she should have been all, “This baby is a we thing, not a you thing”—but that wasn’t how she felt. She’d been so terrified he wouldn’t accept and love a child, she was relieved and overjoyed that he was getting possessive already.
Falling in love, already.
Which was the best news for their unborn child: When Wrath, son of Wrath, decided someone was his? He would drag the moon down to Earth if they needed it.
The reaction was exactly what she had been too scared to wish for.
Wrath lifted his glass. “To my son,” he shouted over the crowd. “And more importantly … to my wife.”
As he turned his face to her, the love he felt made his eyes glow so fiercely, she could see the pale green light even through the wraparounds.
The household shouted in joy … and everyone drank.
Except her, of course.
Because she was pregnant, she thought with a bright smile to rival Wrath’s.
Wrath rode the wave for as long as it took him. With his brothers surrounding him, and a new purpose jacking his shit up, he knew that this was one of the best nights of his life. Or … shit, it was still day, wasn’t it.
Who the fuck cared, really.
It was difficult to explain, even to himself, what exactly had changed. But suddenly everything felt different, from the way he shook his brothers’ hands to how he smiled at their mates to the hold he kept on Beth.
And she was the best part of everything.
With champagne flowing, and the laughter echoing around the foyer, he couldn’t believe he had reached this moment in his life. Just a night before he had been throne-less and potentially mate-less. And here he was with the crown still on his head and his wife pregnant with his young.
Four months along.