Jutuk's expression softened with unmistakable pride. "Growing like a weed. Pearl says he has my appetite." He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "Already demanding food every two hours like clockwork."
I chuckled at that, then shifted the conversation toward more serious matters. "Any word from the Alliance? Any intelligence on Declan Hewes's location?"
Jutuk's face darkened at the name, his jaw setting in a hard line. "Nothing concrete. The bastard's gone to ground since the Romvesians helped him escape. It's like he vanished into the void."
My jaw clenched, my hands curling into fists. Declan Hewes—human tech billionaire, philanthropist to the public, and architect of one of the most sophisticated human trafficking operations the Alliance had ever encountered. He'd been using his technology empire as a front to funnel Earth women into the slave trade, destroying lives with the casual indifference of a man crushing insects beneath his boot. I’d crossed his path twice on Earth, once helping my friend Xabat rescue his mate and again helping the American President retake her office from his clutches.
"The American President has made it impossible for him to return to Earth," I said, forcing my voice to remain level. My friend Rickon had been part of that operation and ended up mating with the president, choosing to remain at her side on Earth and help dismantle what remained of Hewes's network.
Jutuk shifted Titus slightly, one large hand cradling the baby's head with infinite gentleness. "A month in Alliance custody, and then the Romvesians staged that extraction. Someone paid a fortune to break him out. We're talking enough credits to buy a small moon."
"Any leads on who?"
"Too many to count. Hewes had clients everywhere. Kwado royalty, Skaarn warlords, the Xethian crime syndicate, even some corrupt Alliance officials." Jutuk's expression was grim. "He made a lot of powerful people very rich. Any one of them could have bankrolled his escape."
"The Alliance will find him," I said, more to convince myself than anything.
"Hopefully," Jutuk said, his voice dropping lower, barely audible over the ambient noise. "The new plan is risky."
I'd comm'd with Rickon a few days ago, so I knew exactly to what Jutuk was referring. The conversation had left me uneasy, torn between hope that they'd finally catch the bastard and fear of what could go wrong.
Jutuk adjusted his hold on Titus, who made a tiny mewl of contentment but didn't wake. "Using the Blackwood female as bait is dangerous. Declan Hewes is a bastard, but he's not stupid. He's evaded capture this long for a reason."
"She volunteered for it," I said, remembering what Rickon told me when he'd explained the plan and her insistence.
"Doesn't make it less dangerous." Jutuk's jaw tightened. "But if it works, they'll finally have him. One less piece of filth preying on the Earth."
"Here's hoping," I agreed. The thought of Hewes still out there, still a threat, made my blood run cold. Every day he remained free was another day he could hurt someone, ruin another life, tear apart another family. "The Prime wouldn't authorize it if she didn't think they could keep her safe."
Jutuk nodded, though his expression remained troubled. We stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching the celebration unfold around us. The laughter, the clinking glasses, the warmth of community. Then his features relaxed as he looked down at his sleeping son, his thumb gently stroking the baby's soft cheek. "This is what we're fighting for, isn't it? So they can grow up in a galaxy where monsters like Hewes are on prison planets where they belong."
"Damn right," I said quietly.
My gaze drifted across the room and landed on Ruby, drawn to her as inevitably as a moon to its planet. She was seatedat a table with Mei, Bartholomeus, Doc Pritchett, Mrs. Chen, and Marcus, her face animated as she spoke, her hands gesturing expressively. The soft lighting caught the warmth in her eyes, the way her whole being seemed to glow with contentment. She was laughing at something, her head thrown back, joy radiating from her like sunlight. My tail twitched involuntarily, responding to the sight of her as it always did.
I almost missed it.
Such a slight movement I barely noticed at first. The subtle flick of her hand dropping to rest on her belly. Just for a moment. A gentle, protective gesture that made my heart skip a beat, then thunder in my chest.
She did it again a minute later, almost unconsciously, while laughing at something Marcus said. This time I caught Doc Pritchett's reaction—a knowing smile, the kind that spoke volumes. My tail gave another twitch, more pronounced, betraying the surge of emotion flooding through me.
My chest tightened with a wave of feeling so powerful it nearly staggered me. My vision blurred for a second, and I had to brace myself against the window frame, my fingers gripping the wood hard enough to leave marks.
Ruby's gaze lifted from her conversation and found mine across the crowded room, as if she could feel the intensity of my stare. The noise of the restaurant faded to a distant hum as our eyes locked. Her hand still rested on her belly, and I watched as she registered where my focus landed, watched understanding dawn across her beautiful face.
Her smile changed. Softened. Became something intimate and private, meant only for me—a smile that held promises and futures, that acknowledged the secret we now shared, the miracle growing between us. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears—happy ones—and she gave the smallest nod.
I knew.
My legs moved before my brain fully processed the decision, carrying me through the crowd with single-minded purpose. I mumbled apologies as I navigated between tables, barely aware of the villagers I passed, of Jutuk's knowing chuckle behind me, of the curious glances following my trajectory. Nothing existed except Ruby and the need to reach her, to touch her, to make this moment real, to hold the future in my arms.
When I reached her table, she was already standing, as if she'd been pulled to her feet by the same magnetic force drawing me forward. The others at the table fell silent as they registered the intensity crackling between us.
I cupped her face in my hands, my thumbs stroking her cheeks, and searched her eyes for confirmation of what I already knew in my bones. "Ruby?"
"Yes," she whispered. That single word contained everything. All our hopes, all our dreams, all our love distilled into one perfect syllable. "About six weeks, Doc thinks. I wanted to be sure before I told you. I planned to tell you later tonight. I wanted it to be perfect."
"It is perfect," I breathed, then kissed her with everything I felt—all the love, all the joy, all the fierce protective devotion that threatened to crack my chest wide open. She melted into me, her arms wrapping around my neck, and I heard the scattered applause and cheers erupting around us as people realized what was happening, as our private joy became a shared celebration.
