MOLLY CREPT out of the bathroom, holding the pregnancy test in her shaking hand. Tensley had been pacing, fists shoved into his pants pockets. When he saw her, he halted, his chest rising fast.
His angry reaction at first was what she had expected, but a moment later, he was calm and collected, and so supportive, she couldn’t stop crying.
Molly moved to Tensley’s bed and sat down, unable to stand any longer. He had held her hand the entire walk back to his apartment, even offering to carry her up the stairs, but she refused.
Too many thoughts swarmed her head all at once. So many doubts, so many fears, so many options. She cradled her head and breathed through her nose.
Tensley’s warm palm rubbed the small of her back as he sat down beside her.
“How long do we wait?” His raspy voice sent a jolt down her spine.
“Three minutes.”
Three minutes of torture, of pain, of the unknown. Her head and heart betrayed her. She was too afraid to speak. Word vomit was her curse. She couldn’t believe she had just blurted it out.
“Three minutes,” Tensley murmured beside her, a statue of perfection.
She gawked at him. “Why aren’t you freaking out?”
His sharpened gaze sliced to her, and he shrugged one shoulder. “I am.”
“You’re too calm. It’s giving me hives.” Molly scratched at the outside of her wrist.
He sighed and reached out his hand, palm up. “Let me hold it.”
She pinched the edge of the test and gave him a sheepish look. “I peed on it.”
“And I don’t give a damn.”
She sighed right back and handed it over to him.
He fisted the test in his large hand, so tiny, but so significant to their lives. Silence stretched between them, so tense, so heavy, Molly gulped in air with large breaths.
She glanced through strands of her fallen curls to see him, bent forward, his elbows leaning against his thick thighs, staring at his fisted hands in concentration. That dark brow furrowed to the point of pain.
What would this do to him? Fallen would destroy him, destroy her…
She bowed her head. “What if I have an abortion…?”
A beat.
A painful beat, but it was quick. Instant.
“No.” So harsh, so powerful, her eyes flew up to meet the darkness of his.
“It’s an option we should consider, Tensley.” She blinked back the wetness.
“Fuck no!” He stood up, still gripping the test like a precious gift or a weapon, and paced in front of her. “It’s not an option, Molly.”
“Tensley,” she breathed out. “This could be a death sentence—you could lose your heart. This is out of wedlock. A law in Fallen’s court. Do you understand the consequences if anyone found out?”
She thought of Tensley’s nightmares—waking up in the midst of reliving Beau’s heart being ripped out for impregnating a human out of wedlock. Ripped out by the one and only Fallen.
“I understand that more than anyone else, Molly. I witnessed those very consequences with my very eyes,” he said darkly. He spun, black eyes a raging storm, chest heaving with anger. “But if there’s a chance you’re carrying my child, I’ll be damned if I lose the both of you.”
“Tensley, I might not even be pregnant,” she said, dropping her head into her hands.
Thunder rumbled outside, a beast brewing in the dark night. A symbol of them. A symbol of Tensley.
He placed the test down onto a desk and moved forward.
His warm palms found her cheeks and smoothed into her hairline, massaging her scalp. “I’ll make sure what happened to Beau and Valentina never happens to us. I promised I would never risk you and that I would protect you no matter what, and I will. I’ll protect the both of you—from the court, from Fallen, from anyone who dares to be a threat.”
Molly’s mouth trembled, and she sneaked a glance up at his soft features, pearly tears rolling down her cheeks. “Tensley, you’re at risk.”
“I’ll take the fucking risk if it means I have you.” His features hardened, but his eyes were lightning. A battle he would refuse to give up. “Screw the court, fuck Fallen. My loyalty lies with you and you alone. They’d have to rip my heart out with their teeth.”
Inside, Molly broke into tiny shards, and with each slow, deep breath, the blunt edges sliced further into her beating heart.
Be strong, she told herself through a deep breath.
“You’re my court. You’re my crown.” He inhaled very slowly, painfully, his chest expanding, his hands curling a little further into her flushed cheeks as he devoured her with words and a single look. Ravenous, thirsty, and all at once, powerful. “You’re my queen.” A tremor rolled unexpectedly down her spine. “You want a throne—I’ll give you a fucking throne. The court doesn’t control me.” His thumbs bit beautifully into her cheekbones.
“Tensley,” she choked out, her vision blurring, but she held onto his thick wrists, an anchor in her life, in her soul.
Words caught in her throat. Words so destructive, so threatening, she’d doom them both if they ever passed her parted lips.
The predator before her would not bow to such words.
She fluttered her wet lashes and took a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t want a throne.”
A dangerous glint took to his eyes, and he hoisted her up by her waist, a startled gasp escaping her as she clung to him, her toes just reaching the floor like a whisper. “I’ll give you everything.”
Her heart seized, and she blinked up at him.
This man, this beast shook her to the very core, time and time again.
“It’s time.” The hollowness of his voice, the tension in his shoulders.
She slipped down onto her delicate feet and watched as he moved to the desk and picked up the test.
The white tube, so pure, and inside the tiny box, two lines.
Two pink lines.
Bold lines.
Tensley had gripped Molly’s hip before she swayed and held her to his chest.
“I’m pregnant,” she whispered into his dress shirt. She stared at his dark apartment, the thunder roaring behind her, and a flash lightened the room, and she knew their lives would never be the same again.
Tensley sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You should sit down.”
She barely felt him lead her back to the bed, and she stared at her shaking hands. “I’m pregnant.”
Her hands smoothed across her stomach, trying to picture a baby inside of her.
Tensley’s baby.
Her baby.
“Oh god…”
This was happening…
Tensley had stopped in the middle of his bedroom, a thumb lazily stroking just below his thick bottom lip.
“We’ll figure this out,” he said, and she realized he was also talking to himself. “I’ll get the court to move the wedding date sooner.”
Molly arched a brow. “You can do that?”
In the demon’s culture, the higher middle class were assigned to be wed by their twenty-ninth birthday, a gesture to Fallen taking the crown when he was the same age. After the chaos of demons mating out of wedlock, so many high-borns struggled to identify who their children were. Hence, why he decided to make the marriage law in their society.
And Tensley was only twenty-eight.
“It’s not easy, but I’ll talk to the court. Use me becoming the Dux as an excuse.” He nodded to himself and folded his arms across his chest, so his muscles contracted and bulged so sinfully.
Don’t be horny now.
“And,” he paused, shaking his head slowly, the words trapped in his throat—cautious. “I think you should move in here.”
She stared at him and then at his dark apartment bedroom. So masculine, so darkly handsome, so rich.
When she looked back at Tensley, his features had hardened and a muscle in his cheek bounced. Guarded. Bracing himself.
“Okay.”
He frowned. “You’re not going to argue with me?”
She shook her head and stood up, taking tiny cautious steps towards him. “I mean, we were eventually going to live together, right? It’s a bit faster than I would have liked…everything’s going so fast.” She rubbed her temples, and he caught her by surprise by drawing her into a tight hug.
“We’ll figure it out, all right, dolcezza? We can’t tell anyone. Not September, not Illya. Not until it’s safe.” He kissed her right temple, once, twice—until all the stress melted from her body and she nuzzled closer to his addictive warmth. His calloused fingers danced along her cheek and into her hair. “Always in my bed, always in my shower, always naked.”
She laughed. For once, the heaviness had lifted off her chest. “Always naked?”
“A man can dream.” He ran his flat palms down her sides and gripped her ass cheeks, squeezing.
“A beast,” she whispered into his open mouth, a mouth of power, a mouth of sin.
Instead of a chuckle, a savage glint took to his eyes, and he swept lower, capturing her mouth, capturing her hands in his, along with her throbbing heart.
A heart she never had the chance to protect from this powerful, greedy beast.
All the while, a curse, and a lullaby chanted in her head.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
The words forever trapped inside a cage.
I love you wasn’t beautiful or powerful to Tensley. It was a destructive chant, a plague of weakness that destroyed him. I love you sounded like a curse, a binding of wrists and ankles, a snake coiling around one’s throat and squeezing, tighter, tighter, tighter—
She loved a beast.
And the beast would never love her.
Especially when the court and the crown held all the power in the end.