Page 41
Nik keeps his eyes on the road. “That’s between me and your daddy.”
“Nik.”
“Red.”
“Nik, I swear to God, if you don’t tell me what my father said to you in that garage…”
He laughs, low and rough. Then he reaches over and lays his hand on my belly, warm and heavy, spread wide.
“He told me if I ever made you cry for any reason that wasn’t happy, they’d never find my body.”
“Oh my God.”
“Then he showed me a picture of you at five, dressed as a pumpkin.” His thumb strokes my belly. “Then he cried.”
I cover my face with my hands. “Oh my God.”
“And then,” Nik says, “he hugged me and said, ‘Welcome to the family, son.’” He’s quiet for a second. “I let him.”
I take my hands off my face and look at him.
He’s still watching the road, his jaw tight, his hand still spread over our baby. But I can feel him through the bond, warm and wild and full of something so big it makes my chest ache.
Three hundred years, and nobody has ever called him son.
“Pull over,” I say.
He glances at me. “What?”
“Pull over, Nik.”
He pulls onto the next turnout, a little gravel lot above the cliffs with nobody else in it and nothing around but the dark and the sound of the ocean. He puts it in park and turns to me, frowning.
“What’s wrong?”
Nothing’s wrong. I just climb over the console and into his lap, because I’ve been scared for two weeks straight and now I’m not, and because my father called him son, and because I need my mate so bad I can’t breathe.
His hands land on my hips. His eyes start to glow.
“Here, Red?”
“Here.” I pull his face up to mine. “Right fucking now.”
“Ask me nicely.”
Are you serious right now? “Nik, my daddy just…”
“Ask. Me. Nicely.”
“Please,” I growl.
His grin is all teeth.
Chapter Twenty-Two
KISHA
Nobody warned me that being pregnant with a monster’s baby would make me this damn horny.
