The weeks passed in a blur. Politics consumed my life as I focused on helping Reagan and Gabriel settle the pack. Word had finally spread about Jerrik, confirming that he was indeed the shadow wolf, and far stronger than Gabriel. But with time came acceptance. And things were slowly starting to return to normal.

Until the day my life came screaming to a sudden stop.

I blinked down at the stupid white stick resting in my hand where two soft pink lines stared back at me, all rude and judgemental. Just like that, my entire world had imploded.

All right. Maybe that was a tad dramatic. It wasn’t as though the world had actually come to an end. But it sure felt like it right now. I was staring into a yawning abyss of hellish emotions and excessive hormones, all for an eighteen-year sentence I wasn’t sure I wanted.

So, yes, I was panicking.

I reached for another pregnancy test. No way I’d let something so monumental be decided by one single stick. I’d heard of false positives before, and, right now, I was praying with every bone in my body that this next one came back negative.

I tore into the packaging with my teeth—now wasn’t the time for manners—and followed the instructions. Two minutes, it said. I set the test aside and tried to focus on anything else. The peeling paint, the dusty old scale shunted into the corner of the room, the faded grout in the shower… But when I glanced at the clock, only twenty seconds had passed. Jesus. I’d never realized how long two minutes could feel when my whole life depended on the answer.

I stole another glance at my phone, then growled under my breath. At the one-minute mark, I had to restrain myself from tearing the towel bar off the wall and shredding everything in sight. If I was anxious, it was nothing compared to my inner wolf. She felt differently about our predicament. The thought of having a baby to call our own excited her—the damn bitch.

Eyes closed, I drew in a deep breath and centered my thoughts. What were the chances I was actually pregnant? Slim to nil, right? I always used protection and knew my cycle, which ran like clockwork. I didn’t take risks. So, I was late. That happened to women in tense situations, and the past few months had been nerve-wracking.

And now this.

My phone’s alarm chirped, and every muscle in my body tightened. The two minutes were up. All that remained was the result.

“Okay. You’ve got this.”

I snatched the test off the counter and slowly lifted it.

And there it was. One stupidly happy smiling face staring up at me. According to the back of the box, the smiley face meant pregnant. What were the chances of two false positives?

Shit!

My hand fisted around the plastic stick and squeezed until it snapped in my palm. My wolf bayed in my head, a happy sound that brought tears to my eyes. I wanted to be happy about this, too. But it wasn’t that simple.

What am I going to do?

My heartbeat thundered in my ears, drowning out every last thought until nothing remained but a panicked staccato. I bent over my thighs and rested my head against my knees. Breathe, girl. Hyperventilating wouldn’t help matters.

I lifted my hand and blindly grabbed my phone. Without thought, I snapped a photo of the test, typed in a caption, and sent it to Reagan. We hadn’t had a chance to actually see each other in the past few weeks with everything that was going on, but that didn’t matter. I needed her. Right now. The voices in my head were telling me I couldn’t do this alone. Or at all, for that matter.

Reagan would know what to do. She’d always been the smart one. The responsible one. And right now, I needed her logical brain to tell me everything would be fine.

Seconds after the text message, my phone beeped. I illuminated the screen and watched as stay there, I’m coming over scrawled across. Relieved tears sprang to my eyes. It would take some time, though. She lived with Jerrik on the outer edge of town. At least a half hour with decent traffic. Just the thought of waiting that long made my skin itch. I needed to take my mind off this. Do something, anything.

Which was how I ended up with an armful of laundry. My mother used to call me a stress-cleaner, but laundry always suffered. It was the chore I hated the most. So tedious. Constantly folding and putting away, only to go through the same process the next week. But it needed to be done. There were bras scattered across my living room, socks randomly stashed in piles next to the couch, towels flung over the back of chairs and hanging off doors.

I focused on that one menial task, and by the time Reagan arrived, I’d put away the two loads I’d left next to my bed from last week and started a new load in the wash.

She knocked gently on the front door. “Lucy?”

“In here,” I called from the kitchen.

I instinctively reached for a bottle of wine. But when my fingers brushed the chilled glass, I paused. Right. Alcohol was now on the no-no list, which sucked. With a long sigh, I shoved the bottle to the back of the fridge and grabbed the orange juice, instead.

Reagan breezed into the kitchen, her dark hair flowing around her shoulders. Winter had finally arrived, and her frost-nipped nose and cheeks were evidence of that. She shot me a glance, sympathy softening her face. I sniffled and discreetly brushed a hand against my cheek. No, I would not cry.

Heavy footsteps approached, and Jerrik’s faint scent tickled my nose. I should have known he’d tag along—Reagan didn’t go anywhere these days without some sort of armed guard. It didn’t matter that she knew how to rip off a man’s nuts and shove them down his throat, Gabriel had insisted she never go anywhere alone. I knew from our texts that this latest decree of his drove her insane, but she held her tongue, determined to play the doting daughter.

Jerrik walked into the kitchen, hands tucked into his pockets. The man had long since perfected the art of pretense. In the blink of an eye, he could go from unassuming and gentle to a feral beast about to rip out your throat.

“Lucy…” Reagan swept me into a hug.

The second her arms closed around me, I burst into tears. Damn it! Stupid hormones. I sniffled and tucked my head against her shoulder. Reagan and I had been friends longer than I could remember, and though we led two very different lives, I knew I could always count on her.

“All right.” She chuckled and patted my back. “You’re going to get snot all over me, and no offense, but this is a new jacket…”

A weak laugh slipped past my lips. Unable to resist, I wiped my nose across the supple leather material.

“Ew, Lucy!”

Reagan stepped back and gave me the evil eye. It pretty much consisted of a semi-glare that she believed she’d perfected years ago. Her alpha stare as she called it. In all fairness, I’d seen a grown man nearly wet himself when he caught sight of that glare. But I’d grown up on it. It didn’t frighten me. Besides, she loved me too much, and that showed in the small smile that crossed her lips.

She studied my length. “Well…you don’t look pregnant.”

“Give it time,” I mumbled.

“You definitely smell different, though.”

I didn’t bother to question that statement. I honestly didn’t want to know what I smelled like now.

“How far along are you?”

I paused. Damn. I didn’t even have an answer to that.

“All right. It can’t be that hard to figure out,” she commented.

I almost laughed. We weren’t exactly pros in that department. How did one even calculate such a thing? Thankfully, Reagan was here to save the day. She grabbed my phone, unlocked it, and started tapping on the keyboard.

“What are you doing?”

She lifted a brow. “There are tons of apps for this sorta thing.”

“Seriously?”

Her mouth pursed, then she scrolled down on the screen. “Ah. Here we go. Okay. You fill in the date of your last…” She waved a hand, then shot Jerrik a flustered glance.

I snorted. “I’m pretty sure he knows how this shit works.”

His baby blues sparkled with amusement. He waved a hand, then leaned against the wall and crossed his leather-clad arms over his chest. I had to admit, Reagan had chosen well. The man was sex-incarnate. Not that I had any designs on him. My plate was currently full.

“Fine.” Reagan handed my phone to me.

My eyes widened at the sight of the massive rock twinkling on her finger. That hadn’t been there last time I’d seen her. I tamped back the urge to question her about it. Now wasn’t the time.

“Fill in the start date of your last cycle, the date you last had sex, and it should do the rest for you,” she said.

“The sex part doesn’t seem all that important,” I muttered.

“It’s only what got you here,” Reagan teased.

I rolled my eyes, then typed everything in and waited for the app to calculate. A bubble popped up on the screen that read, “Eleven weeks.”

Holy shit. Eleven weeks. It made sense, considering I hadn’t slept with anyone since Leif. But that didn’t make it any easier to wrap my head around.

She lifted her head and eyed me. “Eleven weeks, and you didn’t wonder…?”

“We’ve been a bit busy,” I snapped. “I just thought I was stressed.”

“All right.” Reagan wrapped an arm around my shoulder and drew me into her side. “Everything’s going to be fine. You know that, right?”

I nodded. It sure didn’t feel that way. A million different thoughts zipped through my head. How am I going to raise a child? Should I tell Leif? Will he care? What if he doesn’t? Eleven weeks pregnant. This is insane.

“Hey.” Reagan gave me a soft squeeze. “You’ve got this. I have complete faith in you.”

I grimaced. “At least one of us does.”

“It’s scary, I know. But it’s also exciting!”

“Then you have one,” I grumbled.

“Lucy—”

“Just gimme a sec.” I pulled away and strode across the kitchen, wishing for more than a moment. I wanted to stop time. Right here and right now. Just for a bit, so I could think. But it suddenly felt like there was a giant bomb hanging over my head, ticking down to zero.

“Let’s start simple,” Reagan commented. “Right now, all you need to do is call your doctor and make an appointment. Easy, right? We’ll take everything one step at a time.”

Right. I could handle that. Hopefully. “I’ll call tomorrow.”

“Good. What about your parents? Are you going to tell them?”

“Hell no.” My stomach churned at the thought. “You know how my mother is. She’ll smother me. And my father…” Well, that was one man I hadn’t spoken to in years. I had no intention of starting now.

“Okay. But speaking of fathers…”

My eyes fluttered shut. I’d been expecting that question since the second I texted her that I was pregnant. Truthfully, I was surprised she’d waited this long to ask.

“You don’t know him,” I finally said. “He isn’t from our pack.”

“But he’s a wolf?”

I ran a hand through my hair and nodded. “I met him at the charity event, the bachelor auction.”

“Wow. That feels like a lifetime ago.”

“You’re telling me.” I hitched a hip against my dining room table and stared down at my stomach. No sign of a bump yet, but I’d never been the sort to analyze my body.

“So, what’s your mystery man’s name?”

My mouth quirked into a grin. Normally, I didn’t keep track of my conquests. But our night together had been unforgettable.

“Lucy?” Reagan prodded. “Do you…know his name?”

“Of course I know his name,” I snapped. It wasn’t one easily forgotten. “He said it was Leif.”

A startling silence fell over the room. I lifted my head and caught Reagan’s wide-eyed stare. The same look I’d likely worn when staring at the pregnancy test.

Reagan shot Jerrik a furtive glance, her shoulders tense. I followed her gaze and winced. Gone was the amused grin, replaced by a hard glare. He shoved off the wall and stalked toward me, a steely edge hardening his eyes. “What did you just say?”

I blinked at them both. “I said his name was Leif. Leif Erikson.”