“Starved.” As they started toward an overflowing basket, she asked, “Why is my Instinct warning me about magic again?”
“Will thought you would want your knife with you.”
She hurried over to collect it. The Instinct grew louder when she grasped her familiar weapon and twirled it with a flourish.
“Best take care with that blade. It can knock you unconscious now.”
Her hand-eye coordination had definitely changed. What would her aim be like? Scenting no one around, she took sight of a target and threw. The blade bulleted between the trees flanking the clearing.
Brows drawn, he said, “Give it time. You’ll soon be hitting every bull’s-eye.”
“Oh, Munro”—she pointed to a tree at least a mile away—“this bitch doesn’t miss.” She gave him a cocky wink.
He whistled low.
Showing off was great, but now her blade was too far away for comfort. “Walk with me?” When she took his outstretched hand, she noticed the cuff on his wrist. “What’s that?”
“A contraceptive. My brother brought it with the other, just in case.”
Was that what the two had talked about in Gaelic? She would be learning his language directly. “How long will you wear it?”
“We’ll figure that out together, but I’m thinking for a while. The Accession is here, and the warlocks are an ever-present threat. Not to mention the Møriør. So now is no’ the best time to have bairns.”
At that precise moment, the Instinct whispered a message to her. Breathless seconds passed once more, and the universe turned. Life was funny; life was fluid. And dreams could change in the space of a few missed breaths.
He continued, “Besides, waiting will give you time to work on mastering your beast.”
“But I’ve got this cuff.”
“Birthing a Lykae is fraught. A female needs her beast because the labor is so taxing, even for an immortal. You’d likely chew that cuff off your own arm.”
“So I’ll take it off for childbirth and put it back on afterward.”
He stopped, suddenly looking tired. “That’s no’ quite an option. Balery saw some things in the bones. She texted earlier that the next time your beast fully rises, you will either save yourself from a lifetime of its control, or . . .”
“Or what?”
“You will lose yourself to it. Forever.”
“Oh.” As fascinated as Ren was with her beast, she couldn’t endure an existence as its shadow. She had to make sure it never rose again!
“We’ve got a fork in the road ahead, but let’s make sure it comes far, far down the road, when you have caged your beast completely.” In a firm tone, he said, “We’ll have bairns one day. Just no’ now.”
“You sound very sure of yourself, maybe because of your looong view?”
Confident nod. “Damn straight.”
“So this would probably be a bad time to tell you I’m expecting.”
SIXTY-TWO
“She’s pregnant,” Munro murmured to his brother in Gaelic. They were in the lodge’s kitchen, watching Chloe, Kereny, and the wards settle in for a board game in the den. Monopoly: Lore Edition.
“Come again?”
“The Instinct told her earlier. She’s up the duff. In the pudding club. Up the spout.”
At the news, Ben, whose enhanced Lykae hearing was fully developed, went wide-eyed. Then his face turned a conspicuous shade of red.
Will ran his hand over his neck. “Ballocks. The contraception must’ve failed.”
Munro had already removed the cuff. “No’ necessarily.” Lowering his voice even more, he said, “Before you arrived, we’d . . . begun.”
“Ah. You dribble before you shoot, old man. How’d she take the news?” he asked, only to say, “Never mind. Your lass is beaming.”
She was. As Rónan outlined the rules of the game, she looked like she was stifling a grin at his spirited explanation: “The goal is to own a lot of realms and shite, so people pay rent in talismans and jewels. No cheating, and I always get to be the banker and the dragon token.”
Munro said, “I’m glad one of us is excited about this.” He almost resented the idea of his own child. It meant extra danger and a risk to Kereny that he wasn’t ready to accept.
“But you’ve always wanted kids. At least a dozen of them, you once said. Granted, she’s been through much, but if she can resurrect from the dead, she can do anything.”
Part of Munro still disbelieved she was right there. He feared all this was a hallucination. Soon he’d wake up and find himself trapped in Quondam.
“Will you stop staring at her like you’ve seen a ghost?” Will said. “We’ll handle this. It’s no’ a problem.”
Who was this male? Everything was a problem for Uilleam Andriu MacRieve. Or at least, it had been before Chloe. Once Munro had seen the two of them together, he’d known they were solid.
Will added, “If you’re this unnerved, then what about a plan B spell or something?”
“I mentioned the idea to her, and I pointed out that much more was at stake”—Munro showed Will the text from Balery—“but Kereny was no’ receptive. . . .”
“Munro, I feared a replica like me couldn’t get pregnant. I’m overjoyed about this baby.”
“Even if we dinna have Balery’s fork-in-the-road prediction, there are forces that will hunt our child to hurt us.”
Her eyes shimmered blue, and she bared her fangs. “With my new strength, I dare an enemy to try to take anything from me, much less my child. . . .”
Her palm had hovered protectively over her flat belly, and he’d known no argument could change her mind. “This means she has just months to master her beast. No’ decades. Months. If it rises fully, I’ll lose her again.”
“I can help.” Will clamped his shoulder. “We all have more control over our beast than we ever believed. If the incentive is there, Kereny can learn to harness even newling rabidity.”
Will’s confidence made Munro’s grinding worry lessen a fraction.
When Kereny and Chloe laughed at something, Will grinned. “Ach, they’re getting along. This is grand. Chlo’s going to make a wonderful aunt.”
An aunt. Because Munro and Kereny were having a child. Protectiveness for his mate surged, and a growl nearly left his lips. “We have to get rid of Jels once and for all.”