Chapter Eighteen
Oscar had grown.
“Good to see you, sis,” Harry hugged her, placing Oscar in her arms. “Everything okay? I get the feeling there’s a lot going on we’re not supposed to know about.”
She hugged Harry, hard. Could she tell him? How could she not? They were her family, now and always. Besides, there was no way she could keep her pregnancy a secret. “Not yet, okay? But soon, I promise.”
“I’m not worried.” Harry grinned. “You’ve never been able to keep a secret.”
She sat, holding Oscar while Landon complained about school. Then Nate updated her on his progress in karate. They were happy, healthy, and here. It was the first time in a long, long time she felt at ease.
“Brown’s taking us on a tour of the refuge,” Nate said, slipping on his parka. “Said we might see some wolves.”
“Don’t worry.” Landon nudged his little brother. “You’re too scrawny to eat.”
She laughed, waving them off before going to make a bottle for Oscar.
For the time being, she wouldn’t think about anything but this. Having him cradled close, his sweet smell, the sounds of him breathing in an otherwise quiet room, were enough. She’d missed him—missed this. Being his mom and nothing else. No worries or cares, only love and comfort.
She pressed kisses to the top of his head and lay him in his crib, covering him with a thick blanket and staring down at him. He stretched, his little mouth stretching wide and one foot poking out from under the covers.
“It’s too cold,” Jessa whispered, smoothing the blanket over Oscar and resting her hand on his stomach. “Sleep sweet.”
“Okay?” Finn asked, his arms slipping around her waist.
She relaxed into him. “Better than okay.”
“He missed you,” Finn whispered against her ear.
“How do you know?” she rested her head on his shoulder and looked up at him.
“He’s his father’s son. Meaning he’s only at ease when you’re close.”
She turned, her arms slipping up and around his neck. “This is where I want to be.” She stroked the almost faded scratch on his cheek.
His gaze searched hers.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing.” He shook his head, tracing her features with his fingertips.
She stood on tiptoe, welcoming the touch of his lips on hers, the mingling of breath, and the slight tightening of his grip.
“You need to eat,” he said, sliding from her hold and taking her hand.
She didn’t argue. She was hungry. And now that they were safely at home, she had an appetite. Odd that she considered the refuge more of a home than his apartment. She was a Texas native, but this place was special.
Dante and Anders had gathered in the kitchen. Tension filled the room, threatening her appetite. If something else had happened, she didn’t want to know. Not yet. She wanted to sit, eat, smile at them, and pretend like this was a normal family dinner. “Anyone hungry?” Jessa asked, opening the refrigerator to peer inside. “Something quick.”
“I made stew,” Anders offered. “Gallons of it. Big pot in the back.”
“Perfect,” Jessa said, pulling the massive stewpot forward and placing it on the cooktop. “I’ll warm it up and make some biscuits.”
Anders hopped up and started pulling supplies together while she turned on the oven. She glanced around the room.
Hollis emerged from his office, scanning the contents of a file as he crossed the room and went out the other side.
“When did Hollis get here?” she asked, smiling at Finn.
“A few hours ago,” Finn said, smiling back.
“Good to see he’s relaxing,” she teased.
But Finn’s smile tightened. She frowned at him, glancing after Hollis. “Where’s Ellen?” she asked.
Dante cleared his throat, “Hollis is talking to her. We’re keeping her in one of the secure—”
“No,” Jessa slapped her wooden spoon the lip of the bowl. “She’s not a prisoner. Finn, she gave me her word she’d help me. For crying out loud, she saved my life. I think a little trust isn’t asking too much.”
“Trust her? So, she can hurt you? Or Oscar?” Finn ran his fingers through his hair, a sure sign of his agitation. “Dammit, Jessa, I just got you back. I’m not putting you at risk.”
“She has something to gain from this.” Jessa paused, drawing all eyes on her. “She said there had been no pups—babies—born in years. She thinks I, this pregnancy, might help her understand why.”
“So Cyrus and his pack can make more of their kind?” Dante snapped.
“Their kind?” Ellen’s voice was low, pausing just inside the kitchen, Hollis close behind. “Are we not the same?” she asked, glancing around the room. “Our hatred is mutual, no need to pretend otherwise. But the mate is right. My pack suffers cruelly.”
“Please, sit.” Hollis walked around her and pulled a chair out at the table. “Civility is the only chance we stand of a successful collaboration. Let’s try?”
She sat, stiffly, nodding at Hollis.
“How are you feeling Ellen?” Jessa asked, rolling out the dough.
Ellen nodded again.
“Hungry?” she asked.
Ellen looked at her, her mismatched eyes intent as they regarded her. “Did you tell her?” she asked, glancing at Hollis.
Hollis shook his head. “No. I was waiting for the opportune time. Which, apparently, is now.”
“I see no point delaying,” Ellen said. “We have four months before—”
“Fine,” Hollis interrupted. “Cara’s death was expedited by the car accident. But she would have died before Oscar was born. And, chances are, Oscar would have died as well.”
“Four months?” Finn asked.
“Wolves gestate for two months. Humans for nine. Werewolves fall somewhere in the middle,” Ellen explained, sounding bored.
That explained why the pregnancy test showed positive so early—and why she was already experiencing symptoms. But not much time. Jessa stopped rolling the dough, the roller suddenly too heavy to move.
“I got this Jessa,” Anders took the rolling pin.
“Four months?” Finn repeated.
“Jesus,” Dante groaned, covering his face.
Finn was at her side, his arm wrapped around her waist. His feather-light kiss, against her temple, calmed her. But she still relied on him to guide her to a chair at the table. He sat next to her, capturing her hand in his.
“Cara was seeing a hematologist, often. They had no idea what was going on, noting everything from a possible rare infection she’d picked up on an international shoot to alcoholism or, possibly, prolonged narcotics use. Everything was a stretch, but the doctor did try, I’ll give him that. It looks like she had several blood transfusions. Then, because of the constant increase in kidney function, her kidneys began to fail so they tried a form of dialysis, to clean the blood. She seemed to improve initially, but—” he paused, tapping the file he’d been reading. “But the further along, the more blood, the more waste in her system. Without those enzymes and proteins being absorbed, they’d be recycled to the baby. And they’d grow weaker, sicker until…” He shook his head. “The crash was probably the only thing that saved Oscar.”
Jessa listened, horrified. That poor woman. She’d suffered, unknowing, fighting to bring her baby into the world.
“You can fix it?” Finn question was flat. “Tell me you can fix it.”
“Yes,” Ellen spoke quickly, smiling at Jessa. “But we don’t agree on the answer.”
“Why?” Finn asked, agitated.
Hollis’s focused only on Finn. “I’m a scientist, Finn, you know that. I study, analyze, dissect, and know before I do a goddamn thing. Her idea is—”
“The only way to ensure she’ll live. That the baby will live.” Ellen sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.
Finn’s hand tightened on Jessa’s. Hollis focused on his hands, closing around hers. Warm, strong, secure. She drew in a deep breath.
“What are the ideas?” she asked. “I’d like to know my options.”
“Termination,” Hollis said. “That would be the easiest option.”
Ellen growled.
Jessa swallowed, glancing at Finn. He was staring at the table, his jaw clenched, everything about him rigid.
“The transfusions were right. The blood was wrong. Wolf’s blood, your blood, Finn. Ellen and I agree on that. Your blood is the key to the bloodline.”
“Won’t that affect Jessa?” Finn asked. “Won’t that turn her?”
“Not while she’s pregnant,” Hollis said.
“A werewolf doesn’t shift when she’s pregnant,” Ellen explained. “Too dangerous for the pup. Full moons are hard, fever, nausea, weakness—but not change.”
“Sounds like you, Hollis,” Anders tried to tease.
Everyone stared at him.
“The dialysis was also sound,” Hollis said. “Cleaning the blood of impurities, preventing her body from getting toxic. But the last few weeks I’d recommend she remain connected to the machine—”
Finn released her, standing and crossing the room. He ran a hand through his hair then over his face.
“She’ll be alive,” Hollis added.
“Or you bite her,” Ellen. “Turn her now and never worry over her again.”
Jessa stared at Ellen, at the certainty in the woman’s eyes. She believed what she said.
“And the risk that the change would end the pregnancy?” Hollis asked. “If the pack hasn’t been able to breed, why would this be different?”
Ellen opened her mouth, looked at Finn, and closed it again. She sat back, shrugging. “It is.”
“What if you’re both wrong?” Finn asked. “What if—”
“What if the reason Cara was sick was because she wasn’t his mate?” Jessa asked. She knew Finn belonged to her. Their connection was irrefutable. Why wouldn’t that extend to a visible bond—healthy children? “Ellen, the women in your pack, the women that lost babies, were they mated? Or, pets, I believe they called them?”
Ellen frowned. “Some. I think.”
Hollis was studying her. “A relevant point, Jessa.”
Ellen nodded. “Maybe. Could it be so simple?”
Hollis grinned at her before looking at Ellen, excited. “Can you make a list? Names and anything relevant, if they were mates? To test your theory.”
“Yes, yes,” Ellen waved her hand at Hollis. “But don’t put me in the basement.”
“No,” Finn agreed. “You are our guest. Until you prove otherwise.”
Jessa smiled at him, mouthing, Thank you.
…
Jessa’s excitement was a thing of wonder. Finn’s heart, his body, responded immediately. He loved her so completely he could not, would not, lose her.
“Odds?” Finn asked, his gaze fixed on her.
Her green eyes met his.
“I… I don’t know,” Hollis said. “She bears your mark. She is your mate, part of you. Cara wasn’t. Ellen and I need to do some digging, I think. But I have no guarantee.”
“There are never any guarantees,” Ellen said. “Time will tell.”
“If she gets sick?” Dante asked.
“We move forward with treatment,” Hollis said.
“Or you infect her,” Ellen offered.
“Or I don’t get sick,” Jessa said, smiling at him. “What have we got to lose?”
Everything. But Finn kept his mouth shut. If Hollis’s idea didn’t work, then he’d consider Ellen’s. He’d never thought to turn her. She deserved better. But she wanted this family. And, selfish bastard that he was, he would do whatever he had to keep her. Even turn her… If that’s what she wanted.
Hollis and Ellen seemed pacified. Jessa, amazingly serene. He wanted that. Wanted her peace.
“Food’s ready,” Anders called out.
Finn watched the rest of the kitchen come alive, as if the previous conversation hadn’t torn him to pieces.
“Eat,” Jessa said, offering him a bowl of stew.
He took the bowl from her and set it on the mantel next to him. He cupped her head, tilting her toward him so he could see all of her.
She stared up at him.
He took her hand and led her from the room, down the hall, and into their bedroom. He let go of her, pacing from the fireplace to Oscar’s crib. His son, sleeping peacefully, content. “I’m scared,” he whispered.
She stepped close, taking his hand in hers. “Don’t be. I’m right. We’ll be fine.” She seemed so right. He wanted her to be. “You trust us? You trust our bond?”
He nodded.
“Then trust me. Try,” her tone was soft, entreating. “I feel it, Finn. As strong as our bond.”
“I will.” He stared down at her, searching for the right words.
“But?”
“I’ve lived the last ten years giving a shit about nothing. Nothing, Jessa. I did what I was supposed to, followed through on my responsibilities, went through the motions. My wolf was as much my enemy as the Others, something I resented. A curse. One I’d forced on those I valued most.” He paused. “Now I have you. And I realize how desperate I am to keep you. If it’s the only way, I’ll turn you—for me. Because I can’t give you up.”
“You won’t have to.” She hugged him, pressing her cheek against his chest. “Cyrus said the bond didn’t count because I wasn’t a wolf but I—”
Finn’s held her tightly, needing the pump of her heart and the thrum of her pulse. “I should have killed him.”
“Finn—”
“I will kill him,” he said, burying his nose in her hair. “My family won’t live in fear of him.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s the one that’s afraid now,” she said, looking up at him. “From what I saw, you were terrifyingly efficient. There were so many.”
“I was lost. I thought I’d lost you. All I cared about was getting even.”
She frowned. “No matter what, you have to be here for our son. Oscar needs you, Finn. You have to be there for him.”
“I need you,” he whispered, fighting the lingering fear of losing her. “I always will.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Women have babies all the time. I’m not worried. So, you can’t be. You’re my mate. My partner. My alpha.” Her hands slid along his neck to his shoulders. “My lover.”
He nodded. “Your husband.”
Her eyes widened. “Is that a proposal? It sort of sounded like an—”
“Order,” he finished. “I’m not asking. I told you that night, once you agreed to be my mate, I’d never let you go.”
“The bond isn’t enough?” she asked.
“For me, yes. But it might be best for the rest of the world to know it too, so the wolf doesn’t get angry.” He pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth.
She smiled. “Then I’d better marry you. Even if you’re not asking.”
“He can get very protective when it comes to you.” His hand slid through her hair, his want raging hot and heavy through his blood. “And possessive.” His tongue brushed between her lips, drawing a gratifying gasp from her.
“Show me,” she managed.
“Is that an order?’ he asked, his hands fisting in her hair.
“Yes.” She moaned as he sucked her earlobe into his mouth. “Always.”
“Always,” Finn agreed, he and his wolf happily giving her what she wanted.
Did you love this Covet? Check out more of our paranormal romance titles !