Laddin didn’t want to. Hell, he already knew what the guy was going to say. But he forced himself to sit still and listen, not because he wanted to hear what the man had to say but because Bruce obviously did. Then the director continued.
“If we can’t find a way out, then the baby has to go to the prince. We can’t go to war over this.”
“I will—” Laddin said firmly.
“But I won’t,” the director countered. “You may be fierce, Laddin, but you can’t take on all of Fairy on your own.” He grimaced. “The whole of Wulf, Inc. couldn’t either.”
“So help us find a solution,” Bruce said, much to Laddin’s relief. Bruce was hoping for an answer, not a way out.
The director looked at Bruce. Then he took a long stare at Laddin. It was like he was weighing their resolve, testing their intent, or measuring their manliness. When it was done, Laddin didn’t know if they’d passed or failed.
At least until Bruce held out his hands. “I want the baby,” he said firmly.
“I do too,” Laddin said.
The director nodded and gently passed the child back to Bruce, who cradled the sleeping baby in his lap.
“Okay,” the director whispered. “You’re committed to this path. To this child.”
“His name is Aaron,” Laddin said.
“Then let’s figure out a way to keep Aaron away from the royal asshole.”
THEY FAILED.
They went over everything with the director. Then, when they got to the pizza farm, they went over it again with Wulfric and his mother. The others listened and made good suggestions, but they didn’t know the Accords like Wulfric and Lady Kinstead did. After all, they were the ones who had drafted it, and they had two centuries of experience with the fae.
No one could find a workaround. By midnight Laddin was exhausted. Bruce looked no better, but Lady Kinstead was the one to call it quits. She glided forward, pressed a kiss to the child’s forehead, then another to Laddin’s and then Bruce’s.
“You should sleep now. Maybe it will look better after some rest.”
“We have to keep trying,” Laddin said, but Bruce shook his head.
“We’ve been at this for hours. Sometimes rest is the only way to find a solution.”
Wulfric and the director nodded their agreement, but rather than leave, they smiled wearily at them.
“We’ll keep trying,” Wulfric said.
“Until the last moment,” the director said. “We’ll keep at it.”
There wasn’t any hope in their voices, but they were sincere in their words, and the others—Wiz, Stratos, Nero, and Uncle Josh—echoed them. Even Yordan and Bing had stuck around.
“Thanks,” Laddin said to everyone. Then he and Bruce went to their room.
They set the sleeping Aaron in a crib that the B&B had provided, and then they held each other while looking down at the sleeping child.
Ten fingers, ten toes. Dimpled cheeks and chin. Long straight nose, and the hint of hair as dark as Laddin’s, though it might lighten up to be the pale brown that Bruce had. Laddin had done the inventory at every diaper change. He’d smelled Aaron’s baby fresh scent and felt the pull on his heart whenever the child had grabbed on to his finger and held tight.
He couldn’t imagine losing the baby. Not now. Not when he was already so important to them both.
“What are we going to do?” Laddin whispered, agony in every word.
“I don’t know,” Bruce answered as he stroked his callused index finger across Aaron’s cheek. “I can’t believe this is happening. I have a child.” He leaned his head against Laddin’s. “We have a baby.”
For a few more hours at least. And that brought him right back to the question at hand. What were they going to do?
“Tell me again,” Bruce said as they stood beside the crib. “Tell me about that future you saw.”
