Rowan turns back to me. “Does it mean that much to you?”
Feeling mischievous, I smile. “Well, obviously. If you can’t undo the bond, he’s going to be your pomsky, too. Our furry little baby.”
I expect Rowan to object, but his expression becomes thoughtful instead.
“What?” I ask, suddenly warm under his direct gray gaze.
“What about other babies, Kit?” He watches me closely. “Have you thought about those?”
I blink at him.
Rowan ambles over to me, casual-like. “Accepting the mate bond means getting married. And married means children.”
I don’t realize I’m backing up until I bump into a tea storage shelf. I swallow, staring up at him. “How traditionally fae of you.”
“I am traditional, Kit. And while we’re on the subject of our agreement, I think we should talk about this.” He leans in, pressing his hands to the shelf on either side of my shoulders, caging me in. “How do you feel about children?”
“Good,” I breathe. “I like them.”
He smiles, enjoying himself. “And how do you feel about havingmychildren?”
Oh, sunshine and kittens. I was not prepared for this conversation.
“I...” I clear my throat, worried I’m going to squeak. “I’m open to it.”
“You’re certain?” His smile turns into a smirk. “Talking about it doesn’t make you…nervous?”
“I feel like my entire body is made of magic, and at any second, I may fly away in the breeze like a thousand dandelion seeds. But I’m not nervous, per se.”
He snorts out a soft laugh.
“How doyoufeel about it?” I counter.
He exhales a measured breath, watching me closely, and then pushes away from the shelf. “I hadn’t pictured it until now. But…I like it.”
“Oh,” I say softly, eloquence gone.
His expression grows pensive. “I suspect it’s the mate bond’s influence. Do you feel it?”
I swallow. “I do.”
Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair, stepping back. “Three months is fine. We probably don’t have more than that before this thing consumes us, anyway.”
I nod, unable to find my voice.
“Our children wouldn’t be pixies.” He says the words carefully, as though he’s not sure how I’ll respond.
“They could only be mages.” The thought makes me grin. “Remember when we first met?I told you mages can have pixie relatives.”
Rowan’s smile becomes wry, telling me he remembers our very first conversation well.
“Does it bother you?” he asks.
“No.”
“Will it bother your family?”
“Maybe?” I answer honestly. “But they’ll get over it.”
