Xavier spoke up after finishing off his drink. “Wouldn’t that be cool? All of us a family. A sleuth of our own.”
“Sleuth?” My mate looked to me for the answer.
“A pack is for wolves. A sleuth is for bears.”
“Learn something about other people every day.” Other people. That was the term he used when humans were around.
I did notice my mate still wasn’t drinking. Despite claiming his stomach wasn’t right, he sure did put down a dozen mozzarella sticks.
I wondered if his question about expecting cubs was already answered. Time would tell.
A bear could hope.
Chapter Fourteen
Altan
We’d been together six months, and I was waiting on my alpha to ask me to move in with him. My apartment was too tiny for my big bear, and he claimed his place wasn’t good enough for me.
But something had to change.
I missed him. There were nights, especially Fridays and Saturdays when the tattoo shop was open until two in the morning and instead of waking me, he would sleep at his place. And some nights, I had to work late and he had appointments.
First, there was something big I had to do. I chose to do it alone because I didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily. There had been some huge social media trend involving tattoos, and their shop had been booked solid for weeks. Xavier and Sothea decided to start their own social media videos and, from what Greta told me, the appointments were stacked for months with more coming in each day.
I ignored the online comments about how hot my man was. They were right, after all.
Omegas fawned over him. Some requested him specifically. He put a big picture of us together on his wall, but it didn’t stop the flirting. Greta, however, tolerated zero bullshit in the flirting department with her mate and with mine. She shut down the nonsense in one terse post threatening to block anyone who did not back off.
I walked into the healer’s office and filled out the forms. Waited my turn. Took the test. They had tests at the drugstore, but my gut told me to get it done at the healer’s office. If I had the news I thought I did, the last thing I wanted was a false alarm.
A half hour later, my life had completely changed. Now, I had to tell my mate.
That night, I made him a steak with cheesy mashed potatoes and garlic bread, one of his favorite meals. He’d said he wanted kids but, for some reason, I felt like I had to butter him up before telling him.
Literal butter. The steak was topped with a compound rosemary-and-sea-salt glob of it.
“Damn, something smells incredible.”
Wednesdays were his designated day to get off early. I lived for Wednesdays and Sundays. My stomach somersaulted as he shut the door. Showtime.
“I cooked your favorite.”
He nuzzled my neck and said hi to Bunny Foo-Foo. “You’re my favorite, but I like steak too.” He leaned in and sniffed me again. “Did you go to the doctor or a hospital?”
Shit. I’d forgotten to shower. It wouldn’t have mattered. My shifter mate could smell if I had a lollipop the day before.
“Sit down. I have something to tell you.”
“I will not sit down. Are you sick?” He looked me up and down. “Did something happen?”
“I went to the healer for a test.”
“What’s been happening?” He sat and pulled me into his lap. “Have I not been paying attention?”
“You have. But you have also been busy. I’ve been nauseated in the mornings, and the thought of eggs makes me want to throw up. I’m exhausted most days, and I had a hunch but wanted to confirm it before telling you.”
“Tell me. Please.” The pleading broke my heart.
