“Food is overrated,” she whispered. Even her lips were too tired to move.
Wadim’s chest rumbled, and she felt his approval at her words. “If I had to choose between food and you,” he said, “you would win, hands down, every time.”
“We could just put a fridge right next to the bed,” Zara offered, only half joking because she never wanted to peel herself away from him.
“And what about bathroom breaks?” he asked, tugging playfully at her long locks.
“I guess it wouldn’t be very sexy if we peed in the bed.”
Wadim laughed, his deep, delicious voice filling the room. As his laughter died down and his fingers continued to run through her hair and trace her skin, Zara drifted into a peaceful slumber. The scent of her mate surrounded her, and her wolf was content for the first time since she’d even known she had an inner wolf. “Safe,” the wolf said into her mind.
“Yes,” Zara replied. “With him, we will always be safe.”
Chapter 8
“On the eighth day of Christmas my werewolf gave to me eight laughing females, seven perfect kisses, six packs of Oreos, five satisfied smiles, four hours of hotness, three growling males, two cursing pups, and a furball in a fir tree.” ~Jen
“This song sucks.” ~Drake
“I feel like I’ve been stringing popcorn for a month.” Bethany sat grumbling in a chair in the main living area. The days and weeks had passed quickly, the decorations coming together despite a few hiccups in Jen’s plans and some relationship issues that needed to be worked through. Christmas music was playing, and the huge house was filled with laughter, banter, and the occasional growl from a frustrated male wolf who was either upset that his mate was on a tall, wobbly ladder or angry at strings of lights that just randomly decided to go out—right after being hung. Bethany was pretty sure it was Peri and Elle messing with them because as soon as they took them down to hang up new ones, they suddenly worked again. She kept wondering when everyone else was going to catch on.
“Perizada!” Jen’s voice suddenly filled the air.
Apparently, Jen caught on first, Bethany thought to herself with a smile.
“But you’re the best popcorn stringer ever.” Drake picked up her feet, which had been propped on the ottoman in front of her chair, and sat down, placing them in his lap. He began rubbing them with his strong hands, and Bethany felt her eyes roll back in her head as her neck tilted back. Any time she started to complain, Drake was right there, using his hands to make her forget her irritation. Sometimes, he gave his attention to her feet. Other times, he focused on body parts even more ticklish.
“Behave, female.” He growled when her thoughts filtered through the bond.
Bethany grinned at him. “That’s not what you told me to do last night.”
“What did he tell you to do last night?” Jen came striding into the large living room where Bethany had been told to “sit, rest, string popcorn, and be merry, dammit,” after the mother-to-be had been caught climbing a ladder to place a star on top of one of the tallest trees.
“He told me to go—”
“You do realize it’s only a week until Christmas, right?” Drake quickly asked Jen. Bethany noticed the blonde she-wolf glancing around the room, her eyes taking in every decoration.
“Your evasion only makes me more curious,” Jen said absently. She walked over to the tree and moved some of the ornaments around. Apparently, there were too many red ones in a single area. When Jen stepped back and looked at the tree, Bethany saw there were clumps of the same-colored ornaments all over the tree, as if someone had purposefully organized them that way.
Bethany’s eyes jumped to Jen as she heard the woman growl. “I swear I’m going to skin that high fae alive.” She started to storm from the room but paused as she passed Bethany. “If any fae come in this room, stab them with your popcorn stringing needle.”
Bethany laughed. “I don’t think that will do much damage.”
“It will if you get her in the eye.” A moment later, Jen was striding out while yelling about all the unsavory things she was planning to do to a certain high fae.
When Bethany looked back at Drake, he was staring at her, his gaze intense. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Well, a lot more than usual, which was saying something because even before she was pregnant, her mate kept his eyes on her as much as possible.
“Drake, I love you, but you’re going to give me a complex if you don’t quit with the hovering, staring, and growling every time I move.” Bethany huffed.
“Give it up.” Jacque strolled in, a mug of hot chocolate in each hand. She handed one to Bethany, who happily dropped her popcorn string and needle. “Wolves be crazy when their mates are knocked up.”
“She’s not wrong.” Sally walked in after their alpha female.
“That’s kind of scary, considering they’re unstable before their mates are pregnant.” Zara brought up the rear of the trio.
Sally and Zara both sat on the love seat across from Bethany, while Jacque sat down on the floor, legs stretched out in front of her with her back leaned against the love seat.
“Drake,” Jacque said, sending a wink that Bethany’s mate couldn’t see with his back turned to Jacque. “Fane asked me to see if you could give him and Costin a hand with the sled. Apparently, three weeks isn’t long enough to put together the monstrosity that Jen has them working on.”
“Can’t one of the other males help?” Drake asked, his voice respectful but holding a bit of a growl.
“If you mean, Decebel, Lucian, Sorin, Wadim, and Adam,” Jacque listed off all the other males, except Gavril, who was on baby duty, “then yes, they can help, and are helping. Well, except Adam. Jen threatened to convince Crina to refuse his touch if he tried to use any fae mojo to help them with the sled. But the others are already out there. How many wolves does it take to put together a Christmas sleigh?” she asked cheekily. “Who knows, but maybe seven and a laughing fae is the magic number.”
Drake’s eyes met Bethany’s. She could tell he didn’t want to go, but she seriously needed some space. She’d been trying hard not to let that slip through the bond because she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she was pretty sure if he didn’t give her some breathing room, she just might smother him with a pillow. Maybe that would make him understand.
“I’ll be fine,” she said gently. “I’m only six months along, Drake. We still have three more months until this baby is going to drop out of me.”
His eyes widened, and a look of horror marred his handsome face. “It’s just going to drop out of you? We should get you a wheelchair. That way there’s no chance—”
Bethany’s eyes narrowed. “If you get me a wheelchair, I will not be held responsible for what happens to you while you sleep,” she bit out through gritted teeth.
Bethany noticed that the three females behind her mate were all attempting to stifle their laughter.
“Bethy,” Drake began again, his voice softer as he ran his hands up her calves.