“Bast?” She whispers.
“Yeah, Red?”
“I’m sorry.”
I snap back, “For what!?”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” She sniffles, pushing away to lift her glazed eyes to meet mine. “I didn’t mean to. I’m on the pill.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Wills. Why wouldyou think you need to apologize for this?”
“You’re not mad?”
“Fuck no,” I clip, harsher than I intend, “I mean, no. Of course not.”
She blinks rapidly, a single tear slipping out and rolling down her cheek, “I’m scared, Bast.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her again, but I don’t know if it is. How do I navigate this? How do I bring a child into the world knowing no matter what happens, they will never be safe.
She looks down uncertainly, pulling further away from me before she turns her head to that stick on the floor that just changed both our futures.
I don’t know how long we remain on the floor, locked together but it’s long enough for my legs to go numb, the tiles biting into my ass, so I gently start to move Willow, bringing her up with me as I stretch out.
“Go change, Red, we need to talk.” She nods mutely and slips out of the bathroom. When her bedroom door clicks closed, I bend and pick up the test, holding it between my fingers as I stare down at the two lines.
My baby is inside of her. A piece of me and a piece of her.
A fucking baby.
I laugh to myself in disbelief. Holy shit.
Holy fucking shit.
If there was anyone I would want to have a child with, it’s her. I can imagine them having her red locks and my green eyes, her feisty temper and intelligence. I rub at my sternum at the sudden ache that’s bloomed there, making my heartbeat just a little bit faster.
Curling my fingers around the test, I take it with me as I follow Willow, slipping into her bedroom, finding her sitting on the end of the bed in just her underwear. The sun shines through her window, the sky cloudless and I take slow steps to close the gap between us.
I stop ahead of her, and she tilts her pretty face up. There are no more tears, but I see the terror still evident in her eyes. Slowly, I get to my knees before my hands go to her thighs and I press her legs open to allow me in. With her thighs on either side of my body, I nudge forward, keeping my eyes on her for a moment before I drop them to her flat stomach.
A stomach that will grow and swell with our child.
A fierce sort of protectiveness comes over me. I’ve always been protective, possessive even, over Willow but this is new. This is different. This is raw, and primal, there’s no logic or rational thought behind it. It’s a pure need to keep this woman safe, sheltered, cared for, to keep the baby growing inside of her from harm. I would burn this entire city to the ground, maim and kill and slaughter to ensure their safety.
I tentatively move my hand and lay it across herstomach, splaying my fingers across her abdomen.
“You’re mine, Willow,” I rasp, “This is ours.”
She sucks in a wobbly breath.
“I won’t let you down,” I tell her. “I promise you.”
“Bast…” she breathes.
“I’ll look after both of you,” I vow, “Always.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Olivia hands me a mug of tea, steam rising from the dark liquid that warms my hands. My eyes are sore from the number of tears I’ve shed, a headache consistently knocking at my temples. Sebastian brought me to Olivia’s house early this morning after a sleepless night for the both of us.
