“That’s what good partners do. Challenge each other.”
I nod slowly. “My pack does that for me, too.”
“I know. So, since you are officially stinking up reception, get to the packhouse and take care of yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I give her a mock salute, and she grins.
“I’m proud of you, by the way,” she says.
“What? Why? Two days ago, I ran out of here.”
“Exactly. Two days ago. Yet you came back, and arrived with a great idea to help others, too. That’s growth, Maeve. That’s maturity, and it sure as hell is something Piper and I hadn’t thought of. The support group is a great idea.”
I beam, then wince as another crap hits.
“Ow.”
“Okay, seriously, go.” Blair shoos me off.
I debate telling Ivan and Logan that my Heat is likely starting—we didn’t drive in together, because our shifts were different—but I don’t want them worrying about me when there are animals to save.
Fang isn’t teaching today and should still be at the packhouse.
I shoot him a text that I’m on my way back.
By the timeI drive back, my womb aches, and my forehead is clammy.
“Oh,ow,” I hiss, hobbling into the packhouse. I dropped my keys twice before fitting them into the lock, and bending down to pick them up did not help the pain.
Fang is at my side in an instant, pulling me into his arms. My purse hits the floor with athudas I bury my face in his neck, breathing in his leather scent and whining.
“Fuck, baby, already?” he whispers.
“I thought I had a few days,” I groan. “But Piper and Blair sent me home.”
“Thank fuck they did,” he says. “Let me take care of you. I’ve got everything you need.”
I believe him. I can smell something savory and delicious coming from the kitchen, and I’m suddenly ravenous.
I don’t know what I need more—food or Fang’s scent.
He lifts me in his arms, carrying me into the kitchen. It’s only a few steps away, but I don’t argue. Being so close to him helps the cramping, and when he sets me down in the dining chair, I’m reluctant to let him go. I keep my arms around his neck, and groan when he tries to step out of my grip.
“I’m just getting you food, baby.”
I slouch against the cushion backing of the chair, breathing out slowly.
“It’s going to be bad,” I warn him, gripping the edge of the table. “It’s…it’s never been like this.”
“I can tell.” His voice is strained as he grabs a bowl from the cupboard and yanks open a drawer. “We have to get some food in you, first. Okay? Just so you can have strength.”
I nod. “I hate that you’re right,” I say through gritted teeth.
He lets out a huff of laughter. “Naw. You love it.”
“Hmm. The jury is still out.”
But we’re both smiling, despite how intense the situation is.
