Gavin found a smattering of moss-covered rocks nestled deep in the long grasses of the Highlands. He shifted to stone and rested as the sun warmed him, restoring his energy. He’d planned to fly back to the Isle of Stone with his brothers today, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Fiona just yet—even if she had followed him and had seen him cloak himself. She was too curious for his comfort level, but he had to see her once more.

And then what? Could he see her again and more often? The six weeks in between his visits to Inverness had been agony. Would she accept his explanation about her possibly hallucinating what she’d seen? He hated lying to her, but she did appear to be ill. Would she let him stay longer and care for her?

When he returned to her flat that evening, she didn’t answer the door. He let himself in with the key code and found her sleeping in her bed. Her face appeared peaceful, and her red hair spread over the white pillowcase. She looked angelic. His angel. He longed to climb in and cradle her. The yearning to protect her had grown unbearably strong.

Something was off. He sensed it. He knew little about human illnesses, but the tightness coiling at the muscles in the back of his neck couldn’t be ignored.

Pacing around her flat, he contemplated the worst. Worry weighed upon each step over her living room carpet. If anything happened to her…

No, he wouldn’t think it. That discomfiting sensation that now prickled his skin had no cause. He had no legitimate reason to believe she was ill simply because she was sleeping.

What about the reaction to the orange juice? Her getting sick earlier?

Perhaps she’d caught something. He entered the loo. Maybe he’d find some human medicine that would help her. He opened the medicine cabinet and fumbled through various bottles for all sorts of human ailments he didn’t recognize.

As he was about to close the mirrored door, a curious object wrapped in tissues caught his eye. After a heartbeat of hesitation, he unwrapped it. It was an oddly shaped white stick with some markings on it. It had a word printed in pink:

Pregnant.

Fuck!

His heart slammed in his chest. He dropped the stick on the bath mat. Impossible. He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the edge of the counter. After blinking several times, he picked up the stick.

Pregnant. The same word he’d just read. Pregnant. It echoed in his head like a heartbeat.

Was it true? How old was it? He fumbled around in the rubbish and found a box also wrapped up in tissues. A pregnancy test.

Shite, that meant it was recent. And for some reason, she’d tried to conceal it.

A thousand questions swirled in his mind as if it had suddenly been swarmed by hornets. He tried to talk himself down.

Maybe it isn’t hers.

And whose would it be, bampot? She’s the only one who lives here.

Fine, if it’s hers, that means she’s pregnant. The next question is, who’s the father?

He swallowed. He was a likely suspect since he’d been with her—from, how long ago was it—about six weeks. That wasn’t soon enough for her to know, was it? Damn, aye, of course it was. Humans and their technology were always improving, and they could probably figure out when a human was pregnant these days and as quick as a blink.

Shite, shite, shite.

He’d used condoms. Gargoyle-human pregnancies weren’t common.

It wasn’t necessarily his. She could’ve slept with other men.

He growled at that nauseating idea. He didn’t want anyone else impregnating her. And when he was last in Inverness, she’d said she hadn’t been with anyone for a while. It didn’t rule out the possibility of another father, but it did look more likely that it was his.

And, fuck. If she was pregnant, why the hell didn’t she tell him? She’d hidden the test as if she wanted to keep it from him.

The next step was confronting her to get answers.

He opened the door and stepped out. Fiona stirred and opened her eyes. She peered at him from under her hooded lids. “I thought I heard you.” She smiled.

Without knowing what to say, he stepped into her bedroom and raised the white stick. Her eyes widened, and she scooted upright. She covered her mouth.

“Yours?” He asked.

She dropped her hand and avoided eye contact. “I, uh, I, umm. I can explain.”

He didn’t dare blink while he waited for her to do exactly that. Seconds passed, and she still said nothing.

Once again, he repeated, “Yours?”

She sighed. “Aye.”

His heart thundered. A sheen of perspiration covered his skin. He shuffled from one foot to the other, gripping the stick.

Now that he had the answer to his first question, he had to man up for the second one. Her response might change his life.

He sought the appropriate words to ask this monumental question. The only one that came out was, “Mine?”

She gazed at him with eyes wide and stark with worry. Her eyes remained glued on his.

She nodded. After clearing her throat, she said, “Yours.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Gavin ran one hand through his hair and paced over her bedroom rug. What the fuck could he do with that information? Fiona was pregnant—with his child.

No, it couldn’t be. But, she’d just confirmed it.

The hornets in his brain stirred up with more aggression as they fired more thoughts. He couldn’t get a solid grasp on any. Some swarmed with denial, others anxiety. Buried beneath the shock, he sensed a flicker of excitement. They darted about like insects entranced by illumination.

“Gavin? Gavin, are you all right?”

He was sitting at the end of her bed, clenching the stick. How did he get there? He didn’t remember sitting down.

Gavin lowered the object onto her comforter and stared at it as if it had contained all the secrets to life. Funny, it did in a way. He should say something. Do something. He couldn’t be a giant knobhead and think about himself, even though he couldn’t put two damn words together into a coherent thought.

Think of her. She’s pregnant.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

Her concerned eyes softened as she tilted her head. “I’m fine. It explains the mysterious symptoms recently, like morning sickness and exhaustion. They should pass.”

“Oh, that’s good.” His voice sounded strained, nothing like his own. It was like some stranger had invaded his body and used it to communicate.

She pulled the covers off her and stood. “Listen, Gavin. If you’re freaking out, don’t. I don’t have any expectations.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can hardly ask you to jump into the role of being a father.”

Being a father. Words he never thought he’d hear. And now that it was happening, he didn’t know what to do with it.

“Hold up, Fiona.” He raised his hand. “I just found out that you’re carrying my child, and you’re ready to push me away. Just give me a minute to let the news settle in, all right?”

“Sorry.”

Gavin leaned forward, elbows on knees. He plopped his heads into his hands and stared at the pattern in her throw rug. It was some sort of intricate design with rich reds and deep blues. Each swirl didn’t have much impact on its own, but pulled together, it completed this impressive work of art. Two opposites that appeared vastly different coming together to create something beautiful.

Why was he thinking about a rug when he could barely come up with words a moment ago? While he sought clarity through his racing thoughts, one question rose above all the rest.

He straightened and faced her. “How long have you known?”

“Since I got home today.”

“Were you planning on telling me?” The hurt accusation in his voice rang clear.

Fiona let out an audible sigh. “Can I sit down next to you?”

He waved his hand. “It’s your bed.”

Her scent wrapped around him as she sat. He resisted inhaling deeper, no matter how calming the effect would be.

She placed a hand on his thigh, and he lost the battle. Her touch stirred him, and he yearned to lean closer to her. Instead, he drank in her scent and let it work its magic.

He closed his eyes. They were going to be a family.

“Gavin, I just found out and am trying to come to terms with it, myself.”

He opened his eyes and stared at her. “I have a thousand questions and don’t even know where to begin. When? How far along are you?”

“I’m guessing about six weeks along.” She gave him a sheepish grin. “It must have happened the last time you were in town since there was nobody before you for many months.”

Ah, damn. That was a hot weekend. He’d had no clue what a long-lasting impact it would have.

After a deep exhale, she added, “And no one after you.”

As it should be. He couldn’t bear the idea of any man touching Fiona.

He didn’t know how to ask the next one without sounding like a callous dick. She had options. She could keep the child or not. She could raise it herself or give it up for adoption.

“Are you—happy?” he asked.

She smiled. The anxiety vanished from her face for a moment and, in that second, he witnessed her reaction—she beamed with joy. The hopeful excitement of a mother-to-be.

“I think I am,” she admitted.

Gavin never wanted to disturb the contentment she seemed to feel. What should he do now?

Would she still be optimistic if she knew her child wasn’t completely human?

Gavin soared over the Highlands as he headed north back to the Isle of Stone. Although flight often calmed him, it would take many miles of the breeze caressing his wings to smooth over the shock of Fiona’s news. He was going to be a father.

He passed majestic peaks that sloped to valleys, lochs that shimmered under the setting sun, and several sheep and deer. The world around him hadn’t changed, but his world had changed entirely.

He soared past the rugged cliffs of the north coast and headed over the Atlantic. When he landed hours later, even the isle appeared different. The familiar forests, fragrant moors, and pebbled shoreline where he and his brothers had grown up now ushered in the next generation. Mason and Kayla had started it with their son, Andrew. Would Gavin’s child ever visit? If he admitted his identity to Fiona, a human, would she be repulsed and run from him in fear? He might never meet his child.

Gavin retracted his wings and communicated to his brothers. Can you meet me at the amphitheater?

None of them gave Gavin a hard time. They must have heard the serious note in his tone.

He paced on the stage while he waited for them to arrive. This was where they often perched in stone to rest under the sun. It was also the site of their infamous concerts, where the Knights of Stone had stood as statues before shifting to their human form and performing their songs. And like Fiona had asked him, they’d then unfurl their wings at the end of the show and soar into the night sky.

He’d deflected answering directly as he often did and had tried to convince her that it was yet another rumor. How long could he keep up the charade now?

Once his brothers all flew in, Gavin climbed off the stage. “I have some news.”

None of them replied with a lighthearted snide comment, which was typical of their banter. “The woman I’ve been staying with in Inverness,” he continued. He rubbed his hands together. Why were they suddenly so clammy? “She’s pregnant.”

All of them stared with shock. The sounds of the surrounding forests seemed amplified in his brothers’ silence with leaves rustling and insects chirring. Even the waves crashing on the cliffs seemed more pronounced as Gavin awaited his brothers’ reaction.

Lachlan broke the weighted silence. “A human?”

“Aye,” Gavin replied. “Fiona.”

“And I’m guessing it’s your child,” Bryce added.

“That’s what she says,” Gavin replied. “I have no reason to doubt her.”

“Fuck,” Calum said. “You’re going to be a father? The most confirmed bachelor of all of us?”

“It will be good for you,” Mason added. “I’ve seen how you are with Andrew.”

Gavin paced over the grass near the stage. “Being an uncle is one thing, but I’m not ready to be a father.” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “I know nothing about commitment—let alone how to raise a child.”

“You’ll figure it out as you go along, just like every parent does,” Mason said. “Neither Kayla nor I knew what we were doing at first when we had Andrew, but then we had help from others who’d been through it.”

“I don’t see how it would work in our case,” Gavin said. “She hasn’t lived in Inverness long. Will she stay there or move to be closer to her family? She sure as hell won’t want to move here with me.”

“Why do you say that?” Calum asked.

“She’s human,” Gavin said. “She lives in a human city. What can I give her with an island that doesn’t have any of those conveniences she’s used to?”

“What does this mean?” Bryce asked. “Would you consider moving to Inverness to be close to your child?”

“I don’t know,” Gavin said. “What to do, how I feel, what to tell her—anything.”

Lachlan asked, “Does she know about us?”

Gavin took a deep breath and exhaled with a groan. “No. I haven’t told her. It isn’t easy to tell a woman, oh, by the way, our child is only half-human. Ready to hear about what this means?”

“Right,” Bryce said. “I don’t envy you there.”

Lachlan added, “We always have to be wary about humans knowing our secret.”

“Can we trust her?” Bryce asked.

Gavin shook his head and ran his hand over his brow. “That’s the tricky part. She’s a reporter. She’s written about the supernatural. It’s like she has this obsession with it. I found articles she wrote on werewolves, selkies, fae, and other shifters. She interviews humans, who naturally get most details wrong, but still.”

“Gargoyles?” Calum asked.

“No, none that I saw.”

“That does pose a risk,” Lachlan replied. “We’ve discovered the dangers of humans probing our secrets.” He and Bryce exchanged a glance.

“I know, I know,” Gavin said. The implications of him impregnating a human weighed upon him.

“Everything about her has turned my life upside-down,” Gavin added. “I don’t know her that well, but I sense I can trust her. Something about her has drawn me from the beginning, some kind of mystical lure I’ve been unable to ignore or resist.”

“Do you think she’s your mate?” Mason asked.

Gavin swallowed. The inexplicable pull to her had led him to question if she was his mate more than once, but it was too much to add that possibility to his already shaken core.

“Let’s not go there, yet. I can only deal with one monumental change in my life at a time. And right now, it’s adjusting to becoming a father.” He took a shaky breath. “Then, I need to figure out what to tell Fiona.”

Lachlan rubbed one brow. “This is a difficult situation. In this case, she has a right to know the truth about her child.”

Gavin nodded. He sensed that was the proper thing to do, but he needed to talk it out with his brothers.

Calum added, “If you don’t tell, she’ll find out, anyway.”

“Right,” Mason added. “It’s better coming from you than being stunned by her child’s supernatural abilities.”

Andrew hadn’t shifted yet, but when angry, his skin would turn gray and leathery and features would distort in gargoyle form.

Gavin took a weighted breath. “I’ll tell her the truth. I can’t imagine how she’s going to take it.”