Our club hosts the best parties. Take tonight’s little get-together for instance. It’s two in the morning, the music’s blasting, and the beer is still cold as fuck. My brothers and packmates crowd the clubhouse, laughing and giving each other shit. A few pass-arounds dance up a storm in the center of the floor. The dress code is leather and short; the accessory of the hour is a hot pair of stripper heels. As a result, the pool tables in the back of the clubhouse are seeing plenty of action, and not just the cue stick kind. I’m sure this is how Rain gets some of her business.

Rain.

I tap my fingers on the bar. I’m in look-don’t-touch mode tonight, nursing a single beer, and she’s the reason why. I thought about inviting her but then I didn’t. The MC is dark and gritty. It sucks in some ways that I fit in here so well. I’m a straight-up killer and violence is practically my middle name. Before I got to know Rain, I wouldn’t have hesitated. I’d have brought her here, danced with her, fucked her up against a wall. And I’d have spoiled something special.

I still want her here, but as one of the old ladies. Some of my brothers and packmates have old ladies now, and somehow they’ve made it work. Since inside intel would be good, I go looking for Ware. He’s recently mated—maybe he can shed some light on it.

I find him leaning against the bar at the back of the clubhouse, watching the single brothers whoop it up on the dance floor.

I hop up on the bar beside him. There’s probably a subtle way to approach this, but we’ve already established that I don’t do subtle. “You have an old lady.”

Ware doesn’t look happy to discuss his mate. “Yeah.”

My fingers tap out a quick rhythm on my thigh. “How’s that work?”

His face darkens. “Are you fucking with me?”

This is the problem with my reputation. No one expects a serious question to come out of my mouth. Ordinarily, I’d roll with it and give him shit about his balls serving a lifetime sentence in pussy prison, but I actually want to hear his answer. So I man up and try again.

“I’m not gonna fuck with you over that.”

“Right.” He takes a swig from his bottle and stares at me over the rim.

Fuck me. He’s going to demand an explanation. “I’ve got this thing with Rain.”

He knows who she is. He was there when I gift-wrapped her and delivered her to the club, which is the kind of entrance that sticks in a guy’s head. Only thing better would have been Rain pulling a Marilyn Monroe and jumping out of a cake. Maybe wearing one of those star-spangled bikinis or nothing. Then I could lick the frosting off her, do some celebrating. I’ll have to suggest it for my birthday. I…

“Focus,” Ware growls. “Tell me about this thing.”

He says thing but what he really means is what the fuck have you done now and am I gonna have to fix it? It sucks that my packmate believes I can’t be up to any good with an awesome woman like Rain, but I’ll be honest. I’ve earned his distrust. I’m a fucking machine, screwing my way through the pass-arounds. And then there’s my royal fuck-up with Keelie Sue.

“She had a guy problem. So to make shit up to her, I was helping out with her ex. She needed some pretty muscle to run him off and teach him a lesson.” I shrug. “I’m good at that. It was fun pretending to be her boyfriend. We weren’t supposed to be really seeing each other, but now I think we are.”

Ware sets his bottle down with a loud click. “I thought Jace told you to stay the fuck away from her.”

“He told me not to do anything she didn’t ask for. Rain has more requests than a DJ.”

“You’re fucking her?” Ware sounds incredulous. I’m not sure if he’s more upset that I’ve violated Jace’s no-fly zone or if it’s that I’ve talked a pissed-off, classy woman like Rain into letting me into her bed. Either way, I don’t like Ware using that word. It feels… wrong. Or like it’s not enough. Pretty sure he reads the tension in my body right because he bristles.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” I growl.

“The fuck? You want me to ask if you’re making sweet, sweet love to her?” His voice is rough, like he’s thinking about ripping out my throat right here in the middle of the party.

“You talk about fucking Marly?”

“Marly’s my old lady. My mate.”

“Yeah.” I fidget with the bottle on the bar. My skin itches, my wolf demanding we shed this stupid human skin with its rules and its words. Go for a run in the bayou, do some hunting. The problem is that then I’ll just end up at Rain’s, whining at her front door to be let in. I have no self-control around that woman.

Ware shoots me an incredulous look. “So that’s nothing like your casual pussy, you feel me?”

Self-control is over-rated. I move fast, slamming Ware up against the wall, my fingers closing over his throat. He’s a big guy, but so am I, and hearing him talk shit about Rain is all the motivation I need. His fingers close over mine, a growl tearing from his throat.

“Rain is not casual pussy.”

I know he doesn’t get this thing I have with Rain. Fuck, I don’t get it either. Mostly I bang a chick and move on. Okay. I always move on. But Rain is different. She makes me want to be different. I’m like a fucking Hallmark card because while I’ll never be good, I just want to be good enough for her.

“The midwife? You’ve known her for how long?” Ware’s fist jackhammers into my side. I slam him hard against the wall.

“How long did it take you before you knew that Marly was yours?”

Ware launches himself at me. Guess he’s not a fan of playing question-and-answer. I can either snap his neck or roll with him, so I hit the floor hard. A circle forms around us, boots and denim-covered legs containing our fights. Usually, guys take the fight outside, but everyone knows I don’t play by the rules.

Fighting feels good. Probably because it’s all about feeling, not thinking. Okay. So not all of it feels good—Ware’s a mean son-of-a-bitch and when his fist hammers into my jaw, I see stars.

“Are you telling me that you think Rain is your mate?”

He bellows his revelation loud enough that the guys have to hear it. I return his punch and knock him off my ribcage. Fuck, that wolf is heavy.

“Maybe?”

He shoves up into a sitting position. The music’s still blasting, the pass-arounds shimmying up a storm on the dance floor. Nothing’s changed, except that I don’t want to be out there, drunk off my ass, looking for a fight and a fuck. Not missing Rain is taking everything I’ve got. I keep looking for her on the edges of the room, but she’s not here because I didn’t ask her to be. Maybe she wouldn’t have come if I had, but now I’ll never know.

“You thought Keelie Sue was your mate.” Ware shoves to his feet and then extends a hand to me. There’s a brief pause while our brothers wait to see if I’ll just take the chance to punch the shit out of Ware while he’s doing the whole olive-branch thing. It’s tempting, but I’m still hoping he can explain things to me.

So I take his hand and let him haul me to my feet.

Ouch.

“I thought Keelie Sue was a shortcut.” I shrug. “And I liked her. She’s hot and she’s nice.”

“Jace is gonna kill you one of these days,” Ware observes.

“Probably. But I’m not gonna touch his girl, not like that.”

“Because Jace would kick your ass.”

“Because Keelie Sue doesn’t want me. Jesus. Did you have to punch my face so hard?”

Ware shakes his head. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Tell me how you made it work with Marly. She was Big Dog’s toy and he hurt her bad, so there’s no way she thought oh thank fuck, my man’s a biker and a member of the MC. I’ll bet she made you work for it.”

“You want a twelve-step plan?” Ware sounds incredulous.

“Shorter would be better.” It’s my turn to shrug. Something pops in my back. As soon as I shift, things will mend, but right now it hurts like a motherfucker.

Ware mutters a curse. “I don’t know, okay? I just tried to show her I was the better man.”

“I’m definitely better than the Dick Ex. That’s not enough.”

“What exactly do you want from her?”

And that’s the question, isn’t it? If I want a… mate. Forever. A family. I’m not sure I really know what any of those words means, but I’m also not sure I have to know. Feelings aren’t really something you look up in a dictionary. They’re just something that happens and that are either right—or they’re not. Rain is right and no way I want to lose her.

“Look.” Ware shoves a hand over his head. His knuckles are scraped and bloody, which likely explains the stinging sensation in my face. “You’ve slept with her, right?”

“Yeah. More than once.”

I know my reputation. I’m a once-and-done man. I don’t visit the same place twice. The pass-arounds have a standing five-hundred-dollar bet that no one can do me twice. I don’t like making them feel bad, but I don’t get attached and I don’t make friends.

Ware looks at me and nods, like he’s adding two and two in his head and he’s getting the right answer. “Why?”

“How the fuck should I know? She’s just different, okay?”

Ware gives me another nod. It’s not like he hasn’t banged random chicks in his day, but now that he’s mated with Marly, he’s the king of monogamy. I respect that. When you have a mate, you don’t fuck around on the side. You don’t need to do it. You don’t want to do it. You’ve already got the perfect woman and only a fool would fuck that up.

Which I guess answers the question of why I’m not out there on the dance floor picking out a treat for tonight. I don’t want to. I don’t need to. Rain is perfect and…

Keelie Sue interrupts my happy fantasy. “Fang?”

“What’s up, honey?” I turn around. Keelie Sue’s not tall. She’s pretty much armpit height, small and sweetly curved. Since Jace’s super sperm worked its havoc on her, she’s also gotten larger and larger. Right now, she looks kinda like she’s swallowed the Hindenburg. Her ginormous pregnant belly stretches the front of her pink sundress. She’s two feet away from me, but we’re practically touching. I reach down and pat the bump.

Okay. So it’s more of a mountain. Or an iceberg. Or…

What the fuck?

The bump-berg tightens and contracts beneath my palm. Keelie Sue clenches her fists and makes some weird whistle-pant noise through her mouth.

“Get Jace,” she orders.

“Honey?”

“Get. Jace,” she bites out. “I’m having the baby.”

Beside me, Ware curses, fumbling for his phone.

“Now?” It’s fucking dark o’clock and in the middle of a rocking pack party. Rain warned me that babies make their own schedule, but this is ridiculous.

Keelie Sue doesn’t answer. I’m not sure she can. She makes this awful moaning sound and then my wolf hears a gush of water. Human me is still trying to process what the fuck is happening when the big ass puddle on the floor beneath her makes things clear.

Baby.

She’s having the baby right here in the clubhouse.

She’s having the baby now.

“Okay.” I try to remember what the goddamned baby book said to do and give up. My mind’s a blank and all I’ve got now are instincts—and they’re screaming do something. “I’ve gotcha.”

I spring into action, ripping off my colors and tucking them around her. I don’t think she’s gonna want the whole room staring at her while she gets down to bringing baby wolf into the world. A second later, I’ve got her in my arms, wet seeping into my T-shirt as she wraps her arms around my neck in a death grip, and I’m running for the door at record-splitting speeds. Ware’s right behind me.

As I blow through the door, I skid to a brief halt and toss an order at the prospect standing there. “Clean up on Aisle Six.”

Keelie Sue punches me in the arm. The prospect stares at me like I’m spouting Greek. “There’s a puddle by the bar. Get a mop. Get on it.”

He’ll figure it out. I pick up speed again, find the truck I’ve kept parked at the clubhouse just in case, and deposit Keelie Sue on the front seat. Then, I hop in my seat and text Rain.

 

Mayday. Baby incoming. Meet us at the birthing center?

 

Ware skids to a halt by the driverside window. “Imma find Jace.”

Keelie Sue turns her head and glares at him. “Hurry up.”

I’m not sure Ware has ever seen Keelie Sue when she’s feeling a little take-charge and growly. He stares at her as if she’s shifted into something twelve feet tall and carnivorous. I’m not sure why he’s surprised. How the fuck would he feel if he had a miniature wolf trying to claw its way out of his body through his dick?

I pat Keelie Sue’s shoulder gingerly. “He’ll find Jace.”

Ware nods vigorously and peels away. He’s solid, and he’ll do what he’s promised. I’m sure he’s halfway to finding Jace by now.

Me, on the other hand? I’m shooting blanks. I check my phone. No answer. No bouncing texting dots. I page Rain again, just for insurance. She swears she’s never missed a page, but it can’t hurt to page again. Keelie Sue groans in the seat next to me. She can’t have the baby in my truck. She just can’t. Okay. If Rain’s not at the center when we get there, I’ll find her. Driving at warp speed seems like a good idea, but not dying also appeals. I buckle Keelie Sue in, hit the gas, and peel out of the parking lot, settling for a nice, steady sixty-miles-an-hour. We reach the clinic in a record twelve minutes, during which time Keelie Sue curses and pants her way through two more contractions.

After the first one, I offer her my hand because she’s digging her nails into my upholstery as if she needs something to hang onto. She clamps on, and holy fuck, the woman is a human vise. I brake, park, and wonder if she’s gonna break my hand as she works through contraction number three.

“You gotta let go for a minute, honey.”

The pressure eases up and her nails retract. I think she half-shifted because the back of my hand’s bleeding. I wipe my hands on my jeans and run around the truck, pausing just long enough to grab my duffel from the bed. Thirty seconds later, we’re standing in front of the birthing center. The door’s unlocked—halle-fucking-lujah—and from the number of cars parked haphazardly in the lot, we’re tonight’s second act. There’s also plenty of noise coming from down the hall. That baby momma’s a sobber.

The nurse greets us before I can barge down the hall and find a bed for Keelie Sue. I force myself to be polite. Pissing off the gate guardian isn’t smart. Keelie Sue’s done most of the paperwork already but she still has to sign a small mountain of paper before the nurse leads us down the hall at a nice, civilized, way-too-slow pace.

“You want to pick your room, honey?” The nurse smiles like everything’s NBFD at Keelie Sue, who is grimly marching down the hall. Since she won’t let me pick her up again, I’ve got my arm around her. I don’t think she should be walking, but I’m a baby-making expert, not a doula.

This is taking too long. Keelie Sue needs to get off her feet, now. Even better, maybe she can pop the baby out in the next twenty minutes. She’s always been the pack’s princess, our queen, and the best of us, so I don’t think she should have a problem overachieving in this area and breaking all world speed records for labor and delivery.

I kick open a door. “You like this one, honey?”

Keelie Sue looks around, moans, and punches me in the arm. The nurse doesn’t look shocked. “Where’s Jace?”

The baby book warned me that pregnant women can seem irrational when in the “throes of labor.” Still not sure what the fuck that really means, but I’ve decided I should go with whatever she says. “He’s on his way.”

I lead her to bed, but the wet spot on my T-shirt reminds me that she’s still dripping. I peel my colors off her and toss them on a chair. I drop the bag on the floor.

“You wanna change?”

Keelie Sue grins at me. “You still trying to get me naked, Fang?”

“Always.” I wink at her.

The nurse’s gaze flicks between me and Keelie Sue, clearly trying to figure out how the two of us fit together.

“I’m the friend,” I say.

Nursie nods.

“You got a birthing bag?” she asks.

Keelie Sue stops smiling. “It’s in Jace’s truck.”

“I’ve got a back-up bag right here.” I toe the duffel with my boot.

Just think of me as a rock. A dirty, crude, loyal rock. I’ve Googled and I’ve made a mental note of everything Rain’s ever told me about what women want when they’re in labor—and I’ve brought it all in an enormous, military-grade duffel. Tennis balls (because it’s better she squeeze the shit out of those than the ones hanging off my Alpha or me), a bathrobe, lollipops in case her mouth gets dry. Three pairs of pajamas, a nightdress, and a nightshirt because the logistics of popping out a baby fully clothed seem tricky. Fuzzy socks, coconut water, and a bunch of scented candles. Not sure what she likes, but now she’s got options to make her room smell like a fruit bowl or a bordello. Even fucking snapped a picture of Jace and got it printed out and stuffed into a picture frame she can stand up on her bedside table.

Problem is, the only thing she wants is Jace. Twenty minutes later, that’s perfectly clear. After I turn around and face the wall like a good boy (and also because no way I want to explain to Jace that I saw his mate naked), Keelie Sue’s handled her wardrobe change on her own. She’s clean, she’s dry, and she’s propped up on the bed trying to pretend the contractions are fine and dandy.

I’m not sure who came up with this whole childbirth thing. Not being a complete pagan, I’m aware of Adam and Eve and how contractions are supposed to be some kind of punishment for her asking questions and getting Adam into shit with God. It’s a weak explanation. I’m sure there’s some scientific explanation for why her body’s gotta rip itself apart, but right now I’m just grateful I’m not a girl. That shit looks like it hurts a lot. I feel a whole new sympathy for the sobber down the hall now.

And when Rain comes in, I’m pathetically grateful.

“Fix this.” I point to Keelie Sue on the bed.

Rain gives me a distracted but patronizing smile. “You want him to stay, honey?”

I can’t remember the last time I let someone other than Jace give me orders. Right now, however, I’m happy to let Rain take charge. I just need her to make Keelie Sue feel better and get that baby out of her.

“Stay,” Keelie Sue says to me.

Huh.

I’m not sure what I expected her to say. I mean, I fully intended to insist on staying put. Until Jace gets here, Imma look out for her. But the truth is—I don’t belong here. I don’t know how to be her “emotional support” or her “rock,” which is what the baby book claims a birthing partner needs to be.

Keelie Sue makes another low, pained noise and shoves her hand at me. I haul ass to her side and let her crush the bones in my hand while the nurse and Rain check things out south of the border. Thank fuck for the big blue sheet they’ve got draped over Keelie Sue’s knees.

“Four centimeters,” Rain announces.

Let’s translate that, shall we?

“How much longer?”

Rain’s eyes dance. “There’s no way to know, big guy. Thirty minutes, a couple of hours, tomorrow. Could be A, B, C, or D—none of the above. But Keelie Sue’s doing great.”

I’m just about to protest—because that seems barbaric—when Keelie Sue pats my hand with her free one. “I’m okay,” she says.

Right.

As if excruciating pain that’s gonna last for half of forever is okay? The next hour just proves my point. Keelie Sue does her thing, breathing and panting through each contraction. And since I can’t do anything about the pain, I do my best to hurry up the find-Jace-and-drag-his-ass-here mission. Turns out I’m an awesome one-handed texter.

About the hundredth time I rip off Where the fuck r u? to Ware, he finally responds. Ware’s five minutes out and he’s got Jace. Good man. I excuse myself—thank fuck—and go out to meet Ware. The sobber’s still crying her heart out down the hall, but I don’t know how to fix that, either.

Maybe I should still try?

I turn to the nurse who’s hovering in the hall, watching me go. “Is the sobber okay?”

She pokers up like I’ve asked if she’s on the rag or how much she weighs.

“Right. HIPAA crap.” Rephrase. “Let me know if there is something I can do, ‘kay?”

That doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s something and it’ll have to do. I lope out into the parking lot just as Ware comes tearing in. Given his rate of speed and his abuse of the curbs, I half expect the boys in blue to be hot on his ass. The road behind them remains dark, so I man the door as Jace bursts out of the truck at a dead run.

“Where is she?”

Since he’s not waiting for an answer, I run after him. He barrels past the nurse and skids to a halt in the hallway. Pretty sure Jace pales at the sound of the sobber, but we’ve already established that there’s nothing I can do about that. Instead, I point to Keelie Sue’s door. If Jace was less rattled, he’d have sniffed her out.

My Alpha actually hesitates. “Is she—”

“She’s doing great,” I tell him. “But she needs her mate.”

Look at me—telling the truth. Because it is true. Keelie Sue has this, and while she could do it on her own, she’d rather do it with Jace. He’s the one who’s earned his place by her side.

“Thanks,” he says gruffly, smacking me on the shoulder.

“Sorry I fucked shit up,” I offer, seeing as how it’s a use-your-words night.

We both grunt.

Okay. We’re so good now.

Jace knocks on the door. Pretty sure he’d rather burst through it, but he’s a little off-balance. I get it. The door pops open and Rain smiles at him.

“You’re just in time,” she says.

She doesn’t ask me to come in. I watch the door quietly close in my face. She’s not wrong. That’s not my baby, not my girl, not my place. I can’t take Jace’s place even if I still wanted to. Keelie Sue and I, we’ve had our moments and our chances, and she’s made her choice clear. And I’m strangely, finally good with that. It’s not so much that I wasn’t enough, but that I wasn’t right. Wasn’t Mr. Right. She wasn’t ever going to be my Mrs. Right either.

Still, she means something to me, so I’m not going away, not entirely. I hover in the hallway, holding up the wall and trying to look like a nice, harmless piece of art. Maybe something fucking priceless. Definitely not something you want to shove out of the way. Ware checks in after parking his ride and then takes off to handle some club business for Jace. I keep on waiting.

And waiting.

After about half an eternity, the nurse reappears and makes for me. The sobber’s changed her tune. Who knew you could happy cry?

She gives me a wink. “A healthy girl.”

“That’s fucking awesome. Best fucking news all night.”

I dance Nursie around in a little circle. She’s starchy and wearing navy blue scrubs and those horrible black plastic Croc-things that smell like recycled rubber, but I grin at her and she even cracks a smile back at me.

“You better not swear in front of your baby,” she says when I let her go. She’s still smiling. “Little pitchers, big ears.”

Yeah. I’m gonna need a swear jar.

Babies don’t look like much when they’re born. I’ve done some Googling and, far as I can tell, they mostly look like apricots or prunes, all squashed and kind of funny colored. Thinking about it, though, my imagination does a little redecorating, giving prune-baby some familiar features—and no, they’re not Keelie Sue’s. Her baby’s gonna look like her and Jace (poor kid). If I had a baby—

Which I’m not.

I’m totally not.

But if I did… I’d kinda like her to look like me and Rain. Mostly Rain but just enough of me so that I’d look at her and see the best parts of both of us.

Three hours later, Ware comes back. Nursie doesn’t give him any shit when he saunters over to hold up the wall next to me.

“Skin or fur? What are you thinking?” Ware doesn’t so much as glance my way when he asks what we’ve all been wondering and dancing around. We’re part human, part wolves. Most of us are born wearing our human skin, but sometimes Fate throws the new momma a curveball and out pops a furry baby. According to my grandfather, that’s how he learned what I was. One minute I was a red, prune-face newborn and the next I’d gone furry on him.

I shrug. “No way to know.”

Ware tips his head back. “We’ll take care of them either way.”

I grunt an affirmative. I don’t care if Keelie Sue births a porpoise or a unicorn—that baby’s already pack and I won’t let anyone give him or her shit for the outside packaging.

We wait for what seems like a week, maybe half an eternity, keeping shit safe for our Alpha and his mate and trying not to second guess what’s happening behind that closed door. It’s hard not to hear some of it though—the small sounds Keelie Sue makes, the rumble of Jace’s voice, Rain coaching and urging and keeping everyone safe in a way I can’t.

It’s a long, long time later when I hear the small whuffle-whine of a baby, and even longer before the door opens and Rain sticks her head out. She doesn’t look freaked out, so I’m betting the baby did the smart thing and came out looking human. Thank fuck.

She looks at the two of us standing there and a small smile touches her mouth. “Keelie Sue says come on in and meet the newest human in the world.”

Ware and I tiptoe in. The room’s cozy and Keelie Sue’s propped up on the bed. Jace is by her side, wearing a stupid grin on his face. Possibly its counterpart is plastered across mine but I’m not gonna cop to that.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hey yourself.” She looks tired, but it’s the good kind of tired, like she just climbed Everest and, oh hey, now she’s standing on top of the world and everything’s perfect.

I look down cautiously at her armful of perfect. The baby’s wrapped up like one of those pig-in-blankets and there’s a small pink-and-blue cap on its head. It’s a surprisingly small package. I’ve got shoes bigger than it.

Ware’s rumbling something next to me and Keelie Sue’s beaming. “Girl,” she announces.

Ware and I both nod vigorously like that’s awesome news. Which it kind of is. Our pack’s got an honest-to-god princess to spoil and we’re gonna get right on that. I’m probably about to say something stupid or swear eternal, undying devotion to the scrap in Keelie Sue’s arms, when Keelie Sue pales and Jace curses.

The baby’s shifting.

Rain looks up from her stack of paperwork and frowns.

I honestly don’t know how far we’d go to keep the pack a secret, but it’s pretty fucking far. Our brothers are counting on us, and we simply don’t have the firepower to take on something like the U.S. Army. I’m pretty certain that’s what would be coming after us if we outright declared our presence. So what we need is a distraction.

Remember my pretty face? I put it to good use. I sweep Rain up into my arms, ignoring her startled protest as her papers go flying, and dance her around the room—and toward the door while I pepper her face with kisses like there’s nothing more on my mind than getting her naked and maybe making a baby of our own.

She squawks in protest, but I suspect it’s because she’s at work and I’m making her look like a girlfriend and not a doctor. Ware moves when I do, stepping in front of the nurse and blocking her view. He’s a big motherfucker. Together, he and Jace form an impenetrable wall. I know they’re debating hustling Keelie Sue and the baby out of here, but we’re also concerned about the girls’ health.

I cup the back of Rain’s head and kiss her, not giving her a chance to protest. It feels wrong, touching her like this, using sex to distract her. I’ve done shit for my pack, kissed the right girl at the right time, and I’ve never complained. One more kiss for the cause, right? Rain smacks my chest, but I’m watching Jace.

Only when he nods do I let go of Rain. Over her head I watch as the baby’s skin ripples, settles. Now she’s once again a bright red Keelie Sue mini-me. Rain’s muttering crap about my caveman behavior, but I ignore it and ease toward the bed again.

This is my newest pack member. She needs a protector, and while she has Jace and Ware and a dozen other brothers who are better wolves than I’ll ever be, she also has me.

“You want to hold her?” Keelie Sue holds out the baby burrito. Instinctively, I take it.

I look down.

Mistake.

The baby’s a soft, warm weight in my arms. Her eyes close and she smacks her lips.

I fall in love for the second time.