"What?"
"Who's the father? Do you have a pack? When did this happen?" The questions tumbled out, tripping over each other. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I needed to be sure first." Her voice went soft. "I'm twenty-eight, Presley. An omega with asevered bond. No alpha will want me forever. Not like that. So I made a choice."
"But don't you want a pack?"
"No. I want a baby. I don't need alphas or packs or any of that." She said it with such conviction. "I just need this child. And I can provide that. The shop's doing well. I have a flat. I'm stable."
"When did it happen?"
"Five months ago."
"Five months!" I was on my feet now, pacing the library. "Oh my God, Maeve. You're only telling me now? We're best friends!"
"I had to wait until I was certain they wouldn't come looking for me."
My stomach dropped. "They?"
"Alphas can sense if they've made an omega pregnant. Or so the stories say. But mine were Russian, I think. Maybe Eastern European. I don’t know. We didn't exactly exchange numbers." She laughed, but it sounded forced. "I doubt I'll hear from them again."
"Where did it happen? A heat clinic?"
"God, no." She made a disgusted sound. "I went to a bar. In Prague. I was on holiday, trying to clear my head. Three alphas bought me drinks. One thing led to another. I was careful, Pres. I wasn't in heat. But apparently, biology had other plans."
"Maeve—"
"I'm happy about it," she said firmly. "I know it sounds insane. I know it's not how things are supposed to work. But I want this baby. So much."
I pressed my hand to my own belly, feeling the flutter of movement. "We need to meet when I get back. You need to explain why you kept this a secret from me. And we need to shop for baby things. And—"
"Presley," Maeve laughed. "Breathe."
"I'm breathing."
"You're spiraling."
"I'm excited!" I stopped pacing, looking out the window at the vineyards. "I'm happy for you, Maeve. Really. You sound so happy. Not scared anymore."
"I'm not scared." I think she meant it. The bond severing had been brutal. Months of medication and therapy and pain. But she'd come back from it. Stronger. Whole. "I'm finally free, Pres. Really free. And now I'm going to have a baby. My baby."
"Our babies can be friends."
"They better be. I'm already planning playdates."
We talked for another twenty minutes, making plans, laughing, and crying a little. By the time I hung up, my cheeks hurt from smiling.
I walked back to the terrace.
The twins had woken from their very short nap and were "helping" Fritz's brothers kick a football around the garden. Mr. Cheddar watched from his perch on the stone wall, tail flicking with what looked like judgment.
Etienne stood at the grill, flipping something that smelled amazing. His grandmother stood beside him, gesturing emphatically about proper cooking technique.
Fritz was in the pool with his nieces, tossing them in the air and catching them while they shrieked with delight.
And Hastings stood alone at the edge of the terrace, watching it all with an expression I'd never seen before.
He looked content.
