"Aww, when is the little guy due?" Aver asked, pressing a single finger into my stomach.
The pressure was too much for me to hold, and air rushed out of my mouth as my stomach shrunk back to its normal size. "I thought I'd be bigger by now," I complained, holding my breath so I could stick my stomach out again.
"It will be big enough in due time, just you wait. When Phineas was pregnant, I don't think he could see his feet for most of it."
I didn't think I'd ever get to a point in my life where talking about becoming pregnant or being pregnant, like it was something that was possible, would ever not be strange. But just because something was strange didn't mean you couldn't enjoy it.
I saw what the others had, and I wanted it. The kids, the mate. I'd never been the type to settle down in Seattle. The opposite—I'd enjoyed living free. Those days were behind me, but the people I'd met weren't. I stayed in touch with Jorge and Sam—Sprinkles's last text had been a week ago, claiming he was still deliriously happy—who insisted they meet Aver again at some point to give their approval.
Aver didn't need their approval, but I'd played along anyway.
"It's still early, pet." Aver pulled me into his lap after first setting aside the stack of paperwork he'd been going through.
I turned the opposite direction to look at the baby monitor. While Branson was on site and Riley at work, I'd agreed to watch Bran. Aver needed to do work, and I was eager to fix any of the bridges that had begun to crumble between him and his cousins.
"What if I'm not actually pregnant yet? The tests could've been false positives."
Aver leaned in, inhaling like he sometimes did. He claimed I was the sweetest smell in the world. Before I'd shifted, I might not have believed it. But I did now because it was the same for me. It wasn't his body wash or cologne or any other hygiene product. The scent was just Aver. Woodsy, strong, clean. No matter the distance, it attracted me like a cartoon character to a pie cooling in a window. "One or two could have been, but we've taken several, pet. They've all said the same thing. I think you're gonna have to come to terms with the fact that you're carrying my child."
Goddess, he couldn't look any prouder when he said that.
And I couldn't have—secretly—loved it any more. We were still in the early weeks and hadn't gone to the pack doctor yet, but Aver said he wanted to wait until he understood the new pack climate a little better. I'd heard that Nana had acted as midwife for Riley, while Nana and Julie had helped when Phin went into labor, and I suspected Aver was hoping his nana would return in time to help with mine.
"If it would make you feel any better," Aver began huskily, "I guess I could try again to be safe. And again. And again." He lifted me as he spoke, spreading my legs so I sat upright on his lap facing him.
I pressed my palms to his chest but didn't push. "We can't. We're watching the baby."
"Mate, we're going to have to get used to it eventually. I don't plan on stopping making love to you when we have our first child."
I hit him with a loose fist. "That is so domineering," I said, leaning away while his hands pressed into the small of my back. "Maybe I'll want the break, huh? Ever think of that?"
Aver just kissed my nose and smiled. "You won't. I know my mate. When it comes to exploring each other's bodies, you're as insatiable as me, pet."
I rolled my hips, rubbing our penises together through our pants. He wasn't wrong. We would need to learn how to still be mates when we were parents. I brought my lips to his, and, in a rare release of power, he let me guide the kiss. It was my tongue that plundered his mouth, and my growl—still not as impressive as his—that vibrated between us.
An alarm beeped softly.
"That's the perimeter," Aver said, his mood changing in the span of a single beep. He slid me off his lap, settling me on the couch before he stood to go to the window. "It's Riley. I thought you said he worked all day today?"
"He does." I got up to stand next to him. Riley's car tore up the driveway. He threw open his car door and slammed it shut. "Something must've happened."
Aver grabbed the monitor, and we both went out to meet Riley on the path.
"What is it?" Aver asked, searching the forest behind him.
I'd never seen Riley so angry. But he was only angry, not upset or scared. Just mad. Which meant this didn't have anything to do with one of the cousins or his mate.
"I got suspended," he said, spitting the word out of his mouth.
Riley was the only social worker to serve the rural but large county. "Why? Who are they getting to take over while you're away?"
Riley shrugged. "Jake is going to let me know when he hears something. This is Delia or one of the Elders. I know it."
We went inside to the kitchen, where I made Riley tea, and Aver sat him down at the small table.
"They said there'd been complaints about me from all over the county. My director even showed me the reports, all anonymous, all negative to me specifically. There were hundreds of complaints, all of them claiming to have met with me in the last month. I couldn't have even met with that many clients in the last month. The director agreed with me, but they can't ignore what looks to them like an unprovoked attack. I can't explain my evil mother-in-law wants me dead, and Delia knows that."
I'd dunked the bag of tea in Riley's mug the moment the door opened again. This time, Kansas and Wyatt stormed in with Calvin.
Wyatt went straight for the fridge and pulled out a beer.
"What's going on at the bar?" Aver asked while Wyatt worked on chugging the first beer.
"We got shut down," Kansas said. I was pretty sure the only thing keeping his tone so calm was Calvin. "He'd just got down for a nap when they came too. I'm going to try again, Wyatt." Kissing his mate's cheek, Kansas went down the hallway.
"Shut down?" Aver prompted Wyatt.
"The Health Board came. Claimed I had over a hundred sick people claiming my bar was the last place they ate. There's no way. I know every single person who walks through that door, and if I don't know them, I at least remember them. None of those people could have visited The Greasy Stump. I told the health inspector that, but they can't let me reopen until they perform an investigation." He put the beer bottle back to his lips, but when he turned it over into his mouth, it was already empty. Wyatt turned back to the fridge but seemed to think better of it, pausing at the island instead. "Will you make me one of those, Hol?" he asked, jerking his head at the tea bags.
"Of course. Extra calming, coming up."
Riley sipped on his tea, exhaling out his anger after each swallow. "It had to be Delia there too. She failed trying to manipulate Branson, she failed trying to use pack law against us, and she'll fail with this new plan too. I'll make sure of it."
I dropped the teabag in Wyatt's mug. "What's her goal here? Just to cause chaos so we won't have time to search the house?"
Before anyone could answer, the door opened again. Branson stormed through the kitchen doorway. His eyes widened briefly as he took in the rest of us. "Delia?" he asked, the word a pure snarl.