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Three expectant faces waited for my reaction, and I licked my lips and gave a thumbs up. Lukewarm overly salty broth made from a stock cube with hotdog was the best soup I’d ever tasted because three little girls I adored had made it for me.
“Yum.”
“Daddy said when your tummy is yucky, toast is good.” Ivy broke a piece off the toast, and black crumbs littered the tray.
I almost choked on the incinerated bread but kept a smile on my face as crumbs sprayed over my chin.
“Do you feel better now?” Wren put the bunny to her ear. “She says you are.”
Poppy wiped my mouth, and Wren insisted she wipe slobber off the bunny’s face.
Sinclair mouthed, “Sorry.” He was in his signature pose of arms folded and leaning against the doorway. I almost forgot the nausea as I gazed at my handsome alpha. Could I call him my alpha?
“Who would like to watch cartoons?” Sinclair put a hand on Poppy’s shoulder.
Ivy furrowed her brows. “Why?”
Sinclair shrugged. “Because they’re fun and you might enjoy them.”
“You’re not going to sneak into the pantry, are you?” Poppy side-eyed her dad.
“No, now scoot.”
“If River gets a fever, we have to take him to the hospital.” Wren’s stern expression was so cute, and Sinclair saluted.
The triplets scampered off, and their father sat on the edge of the bed and took my hand. “I hope the meaty soup and charred bread didn’t make you feel worse.”
“Nah ‘cause it was made with love.”
“You don’t have food poisoning.” He picked at a thread on the quilt.
“Because as well as being a stone mason, you're a medical specialist now?”
Sinclair shook his head. “Food isn’t what’s causing your symptoms.”
He was looking everywhere but at me, and I tilted his chin.
”What’s going on? You remind me of a teenager on their first date.”
“I have something to tell you.” He explained the reason for his dragon shifting last night was because he needed to scent me properly.
“Okay.” I took both his hands and waited to hear the rest of the story. “I thought you’d already established I was your mate by my scent.”
“Mmmm, but now there’s something else.”
“Like something bad?” My mind whirred at the possibilities.
“No, it’s amazing, but it’s a big change and I’m not sure how you’ll feel.”
I patted his hand. “Might be better to tell me.”
“It’s not a bug. It’s a baby.”
I tried to grasp what he was saying but failed. “What’s a baby?”
“What’s making you sick. You’re pregnant.”
I fell back on the pillows. Me? Pregnant? I was the guy who never put down roots, and now I was going to have a baby.
