I blink.
“And he’s booked you in for a scan…”
My breath catches.
“A scan when, Drago?” I ask, already knowing by the way his eyes flick to my mouth like he’s bracing for impact.
“Today,” he says gently. “After everything that’s happened… I thought it would be safer to just—make sure you’re both okay. I have to see the Quinns first. And then we can go.”
I blow out a breath, the tension in my chest loosening into something warmer.
Of course he did. Of course, he couldn’t sit with uncertainty when it comes to me. When it comes to our baby.
He needs reassurance like oxygen. And I don’t blame him. I can’t argue with him. Not when his love looks like protection.
“Thank you for arranging it,” I whisper.
He tilts his head, suspicious now, like he expected me to fight him on it.
I drag my hands up his bare chest, feeling his heartbeat under my palm. “You looking after our baby and me will never be a bad thing, Drago,” I murmur. “That’s what you do best, and I love you for it.”
His smile turns slow. “Good,” he says, his hand covering mine. “Because I’ll never stop.”
His thumb strokes my knuckles, like he’s anchoring this promise into me. “You two are the most important people in my life,” he whispers. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you both happy and healthy.”
His forehead dips to mine. “That’s a promise.”
CHAPTER NINETY-ONE
Drago
The Quinn brothers all stop talking the second I walk into Declan’s living room.
Not because they don’t trust me. Because they can read me. They always could.
Conan is first up, closing the distance and slinging an arm around my shoulders like he’s done it a thousand times. Like it’s natural. Like I belong here.
“You good, Drago?” he asks.
I nod.
I am.
And I’m not.
I have so many reasons to be happy, it feels unreal. Like life is finally offering me something soft after years of blood.
I’m going to be a dad. I’m going to ask Lily to marry me. But Lev still isn’t waking up.
Finn said it’s normal. That it can take time. That some people take days, even weeks… But he also warned me about what else could happen and what it would mean if he didn’t.
I don’t let myself say it out loud.
I turn to Declan, forcing my mind onto something good. Something that feels like a future.
“Lily wants to start ballet again,” I say. “I was thinking it might be good for Isabella to get to know her. Maybe help distract Lily while she gets back into it.”
I don’t need to offer any other explanation. Declan understands immediately. His expression softens, and it’s rare on him—rare enough that it means something when it happens. “I’m sure she’d love to,” he says.
