Lover At Last(121)

Beth climbed right up onto Wrath’s lap, her weight next to nothing, her body warm and alive as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on either side of the neck and then on the mouth.

“Jesus,” he growled, feeling the stiffness in her body, “you really are upset. What the fuck is going on?”

Goddamn it, she was shivering. His queen was actually trembling.

“Talk to me, leelan,” he said as he rubbed her back. And prepared to get armed and head out into broad fucking daylight if he had to.

“Well, you know about Layla,” she said in a rough voice.

Ahhhhh. “Yeah, I do. Phury told me.”

As her head shifted onto his shoulder, he repositioned her, holding her cradled against his chest —and it was good. There were times—not often, but every once in a while—when he felt like less of a male because of his lack of sight: Once a fighter, he was now stuck behind this desk. Once free to roam wherever he wanted, he now relied on a canine for navigation. Once utterly self-sufficient, he now needed help.

Not exactly good for a male’s ball sac.

But in a moment like this, when this amazing female was off-kilter and seeking him and only him for comfort and reassurance, he felt strong as a motherfucking mountain. After all, bonded males protected their mates with everything they had, and even with the burden of his birthright and this throne he was obligated to sit on, he remained at his core a hellren to this female.

She was his first priority, even above the king shit. His Beth was the heart behind his ribs, the marrow in his bones, the soul in his physical body.

“It’s just so sad,” she said. “So damned sad.”

“You’ve been to see her?”

“Just now. She’s resting. I mean…on some level, I can’t believe there’s nothing that can be done.”

“You talk to Doc Jane?”

“As soon as they all got back from the clinic.”

As his shellan cried a little, the fresh-rain scent of his beloved’s tears was like a knife in the chest—and he was not surprised at her reaction. He’d heard that females dealt with the loss of another’s pregnancy badly—then again, how could they not relate? He sure as shit could put himself in Qhuinn’s boots.

And oh, God…the idea of Beth suffering like that? Or worse, if she were to carry to term and—

Great. Now he had a case of the quakes.

Wrath put his face in his Beth’s hair, breathing in, calming himself. The good news was that they were never going to have young, so he wouldn’t have to worry about that.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Me, too. I hate this for both of them.”

Well, actually, he was apologizing for something else entirely.

It wasn’t that he wanted anything shitty to happen to Qhuinn or Layla or their young. But maybe if Beth saw this sad reality, she’d be reminded of all the risks that presented themselves every step of the way when it came to pregnancy.

Fuck. That sounded horrible. That was horrible. For chrissakes, he honestly didn’t want this for Qhuinn, and he really didn’t want his shellan upset, either. Unfortunately, however, the sad truth was that he had absolutely no interest in placing his seed within her like that—ever.

And that kind of desperation made a guy think unforgivable things.

In a surge of paranoia, he mentally calculated the number of years since her transition—just over two. From what he understood, the average vampire female had her first needing about five years after the change, and then every ten years or so thereafter. So by all accounts, they had some time before they had to worry about all this….

Then again, as a half-breed, there was no way to be sure in Beth’s case. When humans and vampires mixed, anything could happen—and he did have some reason to be conerned. She had, after all, mentioned kids once or twice before.

But surely that had to be in the hypothetical.

“So are you going to hold off on Qhuinn’s induction?” she said.

“Yeah. Saxton is done updating the laws, but with Layla being where she’s at? Not the right time to bring him into the Brotherhood.”

“That’s what I thought.”

The two of them fell silent, and as Wrath took the moment to heart, he couldn’t possibly imagine his life without her.

“Do you know something?” he said.

“What?” There was a smile in her voice, the kind that told him she had a clue about what he was going to say.

“I love you more than anything.”

His queen laughed a little, and stroked his face. “I would never have guessed.”

Hell, even he caught the surge of his bonding scent.

In response, Wrath cupped her face and leaned in, finding her lips and taking them in a soft kiss—that didn’t stay that way. Man, it was always like this with her. Any contact at all and before he knew it, he was hard and ready.