Mine.

No word had ever made me want as much as that one did. Because I wanted it. I wanted to be Huxley’s so badly. I wanted to surrender myself to him, body and soul, and become his other half. His partner, his lover, his mate. His Omega. God, how much I wanted it…

But I was afraid, and as the days ticked past like minutes on a clock, I knew I needed to man-up and face the truth. It was driving me crazy. Was I carrying his child? The pregnancy tests sat untouched, wrapped up in their plastic bag and stuffed between the mattress and boxsprings of the bed I hadn’t slept in since my heat. I’d been too much of a coward to take them, yet the not knowing was almost worse.

It was time.

I sucked down gulp after gulp of air, but my lungs still felt pinched. Checking to make sure the bathroom wasn’t in use, I slinked into my bedroom and grabbed the bag. I tucked it under my arm and hurried down the hall. My heart galloped as wild as a mustang, and I shut myself up in the small room and clicked the lock. One by one, I pulled open the boxes and carefully read the instructions—just in case I missed something.

It was fairly simple. Pee on a stick and wait ten minutes. I was shaking like a leaf before I ever unzipped my pants and the dry ache in my throat felt like I’d swallowed a mouthful of hot sand. God, this was really happening. Nerves flooded me, making my stomach rumble with unease. I needed to calm down. It wasn’t the end of the world.

“You can do this,” I hissed to myself. I grabbed the first pregnancy test and forced my hand to stay steady. One. Two. Three. Three little sticks lined up nice and neat on the back of the toilet tank. I set them down gently, then backed away until my back hit the wall. There. It was done.

With a whimper, I sank down to the tile floor and tucked my knees to my chest. I could do this. Ten minutes and I’d know.

This should’ve been a reason to celebrate. I’d wanted a family of my own as long as I could remember. I was the kid who grew up playing with dolls, much to my father’s dismay. The boy who hoarded stuffed foxes and treated them like they were my babies, the boy who always wanted to be the mommy whenever we’d play house.

And now? Now I was terrified. What if I was pregnant? What if, right this very minute, a tiny little soul was taking root in my womb? What would happen when Bones finally caught my scent and hunted me down? That thought alone was enough to make my pulse hitch. I swallowed back another whine, because I knew.

He’d drag me back to hell and when I gave birth, alone and afraid in that dingy bedroom, he’d kill the baby. If not the moment it took its first lungful of breath, then the first time I stepped a toe out of line and pissed him off. He’d snap its fragile neck like a twig and toss the body to his dogs, and I’d be forced to watch.

“This is your fault, you know. All your fault, mutt. If you’d only listened…” I could hear his mocking laughter as if he was sitting right beside me.

A wail burst from my chest, piercing the silence and echoing off the bathroom walls. Hiccuping a sob, I clapped both hands over my mouth to try and muffle my cries, then buried my face in my knees. Tears burned red hot down my face and panic wrapped a clawed hand around my heart. Ice trickled through my veins. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t, I couldn’t—

“Chance?” Huxley’s voice rumbled on the other side of the door. I pinched my eyes shut and clenched my teeth together to try and keep quiet. He rapped his knuckles on the wood. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” The doorknob rattled and my broken heart scrambled for cover. I was trapped like a fox in a hole.

“I-I’m fine! Don’t come in here!” I stumbled over the words, glancing wildly around the bathroom for somewhere to hide. The doorknob rattled again. I staggered to my feet and backed towards the bathtub. I needed to get away. I wasn’t safe here. Bones would find me. “Go away!”

“Chance, it’s me,” he pleaded. “Unlock the door, baby. Whatever it is, I can help you.”

It was then that I glanced down at the tests. Everything inside of me went cold as stone. Two little blue lines on each one. Pregnant. I was pregnant and Bones would kill my baby. I touched my stomach and sobbed, louder now. I dropped to my knees and began to crumble and fall apart. “N-No you can’t…”

My cries pitched higher, a keening crescendo that ricocheted around the small room. One minute I was alone and the next, Huxley was on the floor beside me, gripping me to his chest in a tight embrace. Shaking uncontrollably now, I collapsed into his arms and let it all out. My soul violently ejected every last ragged, brutal emotion in a clusterfuck of tears and snot and broken whimpers.

“Chance, baby. It’s okay,” he crooned in my ear, but I shook my head.

“It’s—It’s never going to be okay!” I cried until the well ran dry and I was left a defeated husk of a man. Huxley cradled me in his arms like a child. He was so tender with me. I rested my cheek against his chest and closed my eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m such a fucking wreck and I don’t know what to do and I… I’m so scared, Hux.” My voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m pregnant.”

He went quiet. His silence drove a stake straight through my heart. What if he’d been lying before? What if he didn’t want this child? I jerked away from him, my body going rigid, but he caught my wrists. “Please.” His dark eyes were soulful and pleading. “Don’t run away from me. You’re pregnant? You’re sure?”

I turned my face away. “I took three different tests. They all came back positive.”

“That’s why you’re so scared?”

When I nodded and sucked in a sharp breath, Huxley drew me into his arms. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you—or our child. Okay?” His wide palm flattened over my stomach, as if he could physically cradle the life growing inside of me. “Okay?” he murmured again, his breath whuffing warm through my hair. I shivered.

“Bones will kill it when he finds me, Hux! He’ll drag me back there and I can’t—”

Huxley growled. “I’ll kill that bastard if he so much as lays a finger on you. Don’t you worry about him, Chance. I’ll protect you. I’ll protect our family. You have my word.”

He brushed a kiss across my nose, then bumped his forehead against mine so that we were eye to eye. Up close, I could see the tiniest shards of wolf-gold threaded through his dark irises. “Don’t cry, little fox,” he whispered. When tears welled in my eyes once more, he used his thumb to swipe them away before they could fall. “I hate seeing you so sad. Let me take care of you.”

I nodded, feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion, then tucked my face beneath his chin. The soft cedar smell of him quelled my nerves. I felt him kiss the top of my head before he gently took me in his arms, lifting me up off the cold bathroom floor and away from my problems, at least for a little bit.

And for that little bit, I would let him.