Lincoln’s gaze locks with mine. “Are you certain about this?”
“Oh, yes.” And I mean it.
We kiss. It’s a powerful sensation at any time, but with our naked bodies in contact? Mind-altering. Lincoln backward-walks me to his bed. We stay kissing the entire time, even as I scoot back on the mattress while he crawls forward. My core tightens, I want him so badly.
Soon, I lay on my back with Lincoln settled between my legs. He braces his heavy arms on either side of my head. I feel confined, safe, and ready. An unsure look crosses his face.
“Are you certain?”
I reach up to brush the bristle along his chin. “You don’t have to ask again.”
“I want to. We have all the time in the world, Myla. You need to be sure.”
“With all my heart.”
“Should I get protection?”
“I don’t think it will matter either way. Besides…” Using my two fingers, I mime a pair of legs running up his arm. It’s a move that Lincoln did with me six months and a million years ago, back when he first told me he wanted us to have children. “I’m ready for a family, too.”
Lincoln smiles. “In that case, we’ve one final ritual to complete.”
It’s been a long day, and being naked with Lincoln is pretty distracting, so for the life of me, I can’t think what ritual he’s talking about. That is, until a white light glistens over his shoulders.
Lincoln’s wings appear once more.
I inhale a shaky breath. My new husband is showing me his deepest beauty, and it’s breathtaking. I touch the soft arch of his feathers. “They’re beautiful.”
“As are you.” Lincoln kisses me once, gently. “Ready?”
I nod.
Lincoln enters me gently. There’s hurt that lasts a few seconds, and then, Lincoln and I are moving together. Making love. The universe collapses until there’s only our bodies in motion and waves of delight. A coil of energy tightens inside me, and I feel the same mounting excitement in every shift of Lincoln’s body as well. Our gazes lock as stars seem to explode behind my eyes.
Suddenly, a real white light appears, engulfing us both. The music of light and dark igni fills my ears. The brilliance fades slowly, along with their voices. I suppose I should be freaked out, however I’m too post-orgasmic to care.
Lincoln leans forward, rubbing his nose along the length of mine. “That was a first.”
“You saw the light?”
“And heard their music, too.”
“Whoa. That is a first.” My igni have never been audible to anyone except me before. I hope this isn’t something they plan to make a habit out of. It’s a little off-putting during intimacy.
Lincoln rolls onto his back and tucks me into his side. He kisses the top of my head. “You’re amazing.”
I’m about to tell him that he’s not so bad himself when a wave of nausea careens through me. I pop my hand over my mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Lincoln’s brows jet upwards. “That wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for.”
The igni reappear, only this time, they’re not a blast of white light. Instead, hundreds of them swirl above our bed like a school of fish.
Lincoln frowns. “I hope they don’t plan to do this through the whole honeymoon.”
I can’t help but smile. “I was just thinking the same thing.” The voices start singing again. “Do you hear them now?”
Lincoln tilts his head to one side “No. Can you?”
“Yes.” Closing my eyes, I concentrate on what the igni are saying. It’s not easy, yet I do catch a few words in the mix of gibberish:
“Pregnant.”
“Boy.”
“Scala Heir.”
“Name him Maxon.”
Wow. Mom was right. They really didn’t waste any time, did they? Guess they want a Scala Heir already. I reopen my eyes to watch the igni multiply until their whirlpool-like swirl of brilliance almost fills the room. At this point, the words pregnant, Scala Heir, and Maxon are a constant refrain, and honestly? It’s over the top and getting on my nerves. Suddenly, it’s all less pleasant since I feel like I got socked with a serious case of the stomach flu. One guess what that is. Morning sickness. And after all of three seconds, too. These igni aren’t screwing around.
I wave my hand. “All right, all right. I got it. Now take off.” The igni vanish.
Lincoln sets his knuckle under my chin, guiding my gaze to meet his. My guy looks so happy, you’d think he was six years old and just got a box of puppies. “What did they have to say?”
“The igni?”
“Yes, Myla.” He’s smiling so hard I’m surprised his cheeks don’t crack. I debate about playing with him for a bit—pretending I don’t know what he’s really asking—but then I decide that even I’m not that mean.
“They said I’m pregnant with the Scala Heir.”
Within the span of a heartbeat, I’m flipped onto my back with Lincoln over me again. Based on the hardness pressed against my thigh, he’s very excited about this news. “Anything else?”
“It’s a boy. They want us to name him Maxon.”