by Scott, Talyn
Dru joined them. “Blythe is definitely pregnant.”
“Sixten, going back to your earlier discussion with Kash, how do you know the child’s yours?” Bane asked.
“I know she’s your family,” Sixten snapped, “but is this really your business? She’s pregnant. You’re going to be an uncle. End of.”
“She’s waiting for you three,” Dru continued sternly, “I strongly suggest you put on your smiley faces before you go in there. And Sixten, the reason Bane is asking about the baby’s biological father is plausible, considering Blythe could be carrying a monarch’s child.”
“I don’t have the same sense of smell that you pure bloods do, but I would have scented his mark inside of her when we brought her home. And as I just explained to Kash, the Marchii did not…,” he stopped, gripping the side of Bane’s desk to compose himself, “ejaculate inside Blythe, okay? However, my shifter tried to impregnate her the night Bane and Rock arrived with word of Gianni.”
“You can sense that?” Dru asked, dumbfounded.
“Oh, I certainly can.”
“Jayce knew it was happening before, during, and after with Tatum.” Rock said confidently, “Didn’t need your confirmation on it, Doc.”
Dru’s eyes widened. “Do you know who your father really is, Sixten?”
“This is not the conversation we should be having,” he barked.
Dru kept his voice even. “By my experiences in the immortal medical field, leaders of certain species and their descendants usually know when they’re procreating their lineage - the next generation, if you will. I find it curious that you understood what your shifter was doing. Makes sense if you’re from a royal Habaline bloodline, though.”
Talking about his biological father was a no-go, so he moved things right along. Even if he had to embarrass himself to do it, since no bloody vampire monarchy was coming after his child. “Evidently, barbs come out” - he gestured toward his fly - “when shifters impregnate, holding the female in place while the seed takes root. I’m sure you’ve heard of this, Doctor. Only once in my entire life have they made themselves known, now Blythe is pregnant.” Glittering lights hit the bookshelves and he knew his irises had kicked up to shifter levels. “Again. End of.”
“Okay,” Dru answered, pacified. “As far as her care goes, I have absolutely no experience with shifter babies, which is one of the reasons I asked about your lineage. For us to know she’s pregnant in barely…” He held his hands out, palms up.
“Days,” Rock answered. “If Six impregnated her the night I scented Blythe as mine.”
Dru took a seat. “Many immortal pregnancies we sense long before the female misses her menses. Still, you’re right, Rock. This pregnancy mirrors Tatum and the Alpha baby she carries. Think about it, Sixten’s child is powerful enough to make its presence known in days, the same as Jayce’s.”
“If you’re saying Blythe’s carrying Rosemary’s baby, think again,” Sixten ground out. “It’s just a baby, one I already love to distraction!”
“No one’s saying that.” Kash clapped him on the shoulder. “You always say power is power, seems as though you gave that sweet baby a good jolt of yours. By the way, I already love it, too.”
Rock moved next to him, clapping his opposite shoulder. “Did you shift when you were small?”
“What?”
“I’m wondering how we’re going to keep a little shifter in its crib at night,” Rock said with a laugh. “Sounds like the first real challenge of my life.”
“Sixten, our baby’s going to shift?” Blythe stammered as she walked in.
“Maybe not, but I imagine so,” Sixten answered her, gliding quickly, enveloping her in his arms. He hoped she did not hear any other part of the conversation. “Rave had to teach me, so I don’t think we’ll have a little escapee on our hands until the teenage years, okay?” He moved his lips against hers, reveling in their softness. “Then, it’s to be expected.”
“Teenage years?” she cupped her forehead, appearing suddenly woozy.
“How much blood did you take?” He turned to Kash.
“Negligible,” Kash replied, curling his arm around her back.
“Rock, you turned her immortal, right?” Dru asked. “I sensed the change in her. She sure does smell differently.”
“Absolutely, I did.” Rock took her from Sixten and Kash, giving Blythe a deep kiss before congratulating her.
“Her blood volume…the anemia stemming from her relationship with the Dynasty Vampyr, you think it’s all good, Dru? Since she’s immortal now?” Sixten wanted her home. Currently, he was barely holding on to his sanity. Though he fought with it daily, he was having a hard time of it since…it couldn’t be since he found out Blythe was pregnant. They had always discussed having children together. They desired children. No, something was off. He’d started fighting with his shifter after he walked into this room…right where Blythe was standing.
"I'll draw her blood tomorrow," Dru answered.
“Six,” Blythe whispered, “I sense your shifter rising.”
“You sense my shifter?” He did, too.
“You’re going inky…and your eyes.” Those stunning cognac eyes of hers watered. “You’re not happy about the baby.”
“Yes. Ecstatic.” Sixten gripped her shoulders, meaning to kiss her…but something made him recoil near the door.
“You’re not,” she sobbed, turning into Rock’s chest.
“Blythe, you’re wrong.” Something was agitating him - something major. “What’s this, Bane?” Sixten asked and pointed to the overhang leading into Bane’s office.
“Renee and her goofy superstitions…Blythe is upset,” the Beta said hotly. “I insist you make amends. Now.”
“That’s not goofy.”
“It’s a damn horseshoe my paranoid mate put over my door.” Bane walked by Blythe, kissing the top of her head, and then stood next to Sixten. “Have you finally lost it? Settle your shifter down, man. You don’t go around upsetting females, especially pregnant ones.”
“The Irish werewolves started this,” Sixten continued dazedly. He hated when this happened, when his mind swirled and he couldn’t keep up with his own mental meanderings. Now he had more witnesses to his insanity than he cared for. Undoubtedly, madness would overtake him soon, just as it had Rave. When that happened, who would kill him? Thrusting his hands through his hair, he figured that maybe Maestru could manage it. Then Sixten froze, gasping aloud.
His baby.
His innocent child would indeed follow his path.
“Female werewolves continued many timewasting traditions,” Bane went on evenly, nodding at the horseshoe. “Renee’s grandmother is a pure blood. Believe me when I say, my mate gets her eccentricities honestly. About your wife…”
Sixten got to the point. “For luck, the humans used these horseshoes over their doors, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“But not the werewolves, they used them for an altogether different purpose.” Sixten looked between Bane and Rock. “Tell me what you know.”
“I know that my mate is upset, with child, and exhausted.” Rock said quietly, though Sixten could feel the heat in his words. The werewolf’s hands stroked Blythe from the top of her head to the rise of her bottom, and Sixten could smell the adrenalin leaving her body with each pass. “She needs food, a bath, a bed, and to feel cherished.” Rock then turned to Dru. “Blood, does she need to feed?”
“Wouldn’t hurt,” Dru replied. “I have to get someone trustworthy in on this.”
“Moja láska,” Sixten whispered and Blythe looked right at him. “Trust me.” She always did, knew him better than anyone. When she nodded, he walked to her and kissed her full on the lips. “You know that I love you and our precious baby.”
“You’re right.” Wiping her eyes, she agreed, “I do know this.”
“Good,” he breathed, placing an affectionate kiss on her temple. “One of us needs to take you home. You need rest, ang
el.”
Kash stepped around her, pressing his thumbs under her chin to gain access to her veins. “I’ll mist you, help settle you in, and then leave you with Rock. Are you okay with that, Bride?”
She cupped Kash’s jaw. “Give me a minute. I’m too woozy, and Bane’s sofa looks inviting.”
Dru said, “How many times has she been misted today?”
“Many,” Kash replied.
“I don’t like that,” said the doctor. “We cut Tatum’s misting out unless emergency dictates. You’re risking the baby every time you dissolve them.”
“Damn it,” Sixten snarled. “No more risks.” He stared at his two co-mates; both were shaking their heads in agreement.
After gently leading her to the sofa, Kash removed his weapons from his long coat and covered her. Sixten watched as Rock kissed her forehead, and without her knowledge, he put her to sleep. With great relief, Sixten turned to Bane. “Tell me, Beta. Where are your tribal books, in particular, those listing your iron Talismans?”
“I don’t believe in those,” Bane said with a dismissive hand.
“Yet you werewolves practice magic, some of it Druid. Moments ago, you accused me of losing it and you stand before me a rambling conundrum. Certainly, you can select your folklore, Beta, but not magic. Magic selects you. Never does it bind with a creature who doesn’t believe in its power.” His hands came down on Bane’s desk. “I ask you once again for your tribal books.”
Bane sighed. “Your kind isn’t permitted near those books.”
“My kind?” Sixten patted his chest, right over his Habaline heart. “My kind is slowly taking over the world you live in. My kind surpasses any other intelligent life in this realm. My kind can stomp you underneath ancient boots at any given second, and I’m not referring to the deranged mix-bloods reeking terror across the islands…the cities.” He dropped his voice to a whisper, “I am talking about the pure bloods in hiding, silently waiting for the right moment to strike. Therefore, you might reconsider listening to one of my kind when offered lifesaving advice.” Sixten pointed to the doorway, staring entreatingly at the singular horseshoe sparking his shifter. “So bring me your Alpha, if you choose to follow protocol in this, Beta. I will ask him myself, playing the dutiful ambassador representing my Habaline race. Although we both know, Habalines deserve no emissary. Be forewarned, though, whatever either of you say, I won’t stop until I see those books.” Sixten rubbed his temples with his fingertips, willing away his escalating psychosis. He had to get that horseshoe out of Bane’s house. “In this, biding time makes losers of us all, and I never lose. As for you, maybe you want to think about saving your Pack and the corresponding world more casualties. As for me, I now have a family to protect.”
Chapter Seventeen
Stretched across Rock’s lap in the center of some crazy turret room, Blythe stared at the television. Both of them perched on a gigantic bed specially made by artisans from Rock’s Pack for multiple bed partners…or mates. “I feel guilty for resting on Bane’s bed.”
Rock kissed the top of her head. “He’s honored. You are his family and he wanted you here, inside his home and under his protection, from the beginning. If it makes you feel any better, this isn’t their main bedroom suite. And you know Renee isn’t here. If she were, she would be shoveling tofu and various shades of grass in your mouth.” He mock shuddered.
“That’s a far cry from what I had for breakfast.” Or was this lunch? To her side, empty dishes piled a tray nestled on the nightstand. All delivered by The Blue Pelican. An hour or so ago, Rock had fed her every delicious morsel by hand, insisting on it, ending with whiskey-glazed banana pudding and a half-gallon of chocolate milk. Though she felt somewhat lazy and definitely stuffed, she wasn’t bloated. Felt as though her bundle of joy absorbed everything the minute she swallowed it.
Fidgeting, she couldn’t relax while watching the news. Her thoughts were as scattered as her hormones. Concentrating her best, she listened in as the anchor droned on. Depressing was an understatement. Crime had picked up considerably around southwest Florida, though no one mortal contributed the increase to anything remotely supernatural. Why would they? Didn’t mean she was oblivious. Humans weren’t stirring up this kind of ruckus. Nightly, women were disappearing. “What are we going to do?” she grumbled, placing her hand protectively against her stomach. What kind of world was this for an innocent child to live in? “Besides a few stragglers and those naughty Lovci, I thought most of the rogue shifters were under your Pack’s thumb or dead. It’s worse than I imagined.”
“What are we going to do?” Rock’s chest rumbled with laughter, vibrating against the side of her face.
“It’s not funny.”
“You are not going to do anything,” he said with chauvinistic finality. “You’re a pregnant female who will remain well-rested, pampered, fed -”
“Is there well-sexed in there somewhere,” she interrupted, "because I’m horny. Not that you can’t smell my need, but, hey, throwing it out there in case you’re distracted by a television that should have never been placed inside a bedroom. It’s very presence is a curse, you know.” Though for the last twenty minutes her werewolf had given her an incredible massage, still, he’d left her aching between her legs.
“Distracted,” murmured Rock. Piercing blue eyes left the outstretched television screen, refocusing on the bared slice of skin dividing her panties and Sixten’s shirt. “Distracted by your needful scent, yes, I am.” His palm covered her throat, squeezing gently. “Cursed? I am cursed, though not by the television but by this baseball bat tenting my boxers.” Lowering his head to hers, releasing her throat, Rock pressed their foreheads together. “You didn’t sleep well, and I thought you might drift off after your hearty meal and corresponding rubdown. I’m afraid that you have misinterpreted my courteousness.” His warm tongue traced her upper lip, making her womb clench. “How may I serve you, my needful mate?”
“By taking the baseball bat out of your boxers, please,” she suggested. Briefly, he closed his eyes as though warring with himself. Reaching over, she popped the top on the vitamins Dru left her this morning on his way to the hospital and downed one. “Dru said I could have sex,” Blythe promised, “even in the Were way, whatever that meant.”
“I heard.” Pulling back, both brows lifted in ebony slashes of concern. “The good doctor was referring to group sex, baby, the way I showed you on Sanibel Island. Remember when I took you in both places simultaneously.”
“Yeah.”
“Usually,” he explained, “werewolf mates like to come together with their female, as in orgasm together.”
“So the third male watches,” Blythe said, “Like Sixten did when Kash mated me.”
“Watching’s cool.” His thumb brushed her lower lip, tugged gently as cerulean eyes flipped up, staring at her with razor-sharp precision. “One of us can, if you’d like, but we don’t have to stay physically uninvolved.”
Ah, one in front, one in back, and one inside her mouth, her face flushed.
“You’re embarrassed by that?” Rock inquired softly. “We’ll take it slow then, especially in your condition.”
“No.” Running her hand up his chest, her fingers followed the lines of an intricate, tribal tattoo. “Not so much about the group thing, just…the positioning.” The thought of three ginormous cocks sliding inside her body all at once was implausible at worst, daunting at best.
“I take it that you never had a ménage.”
“I guess Sixten watching Kash and me doesn’t count.” She shrugged. “But it was different…exciting.”
“Oh, yeah?” Rock’s boxers disappeared, his impressive cock jutting high.
“Where did they go?” she asked, losing her train of thought at the metal-laden sight suddenly before her.
“On the floor via Were speed,” he chuckled. “Now what?”
Her mouth went dry. “Now what…what?”
“I asked you what you wanted and you said f
or me to remove my baseball bat from my boxers.”
Oh, she knew how to play this game. Since she was too tired to do any of the actual work, she demanded, “Now I want my male to service me.” With gentle hands, he pulled off her top, her swollen breasts immediately flouncing in his face. They were tender, the nipples overly sensitive.
“Already darker,” he whispered in awe. Looking down at her breasts, she shrugged, not noticing anything. “Take my word for it, Blythe, my visual perception is keener than yours.”
First, he placed a gentle kiss on her stomach, and then he brought the warmth of his mouth to her sensitive nipple. On the first twirl of his tongue, she bucked beneath him. Positioning his hands, he placed one on her back between her shoulder blades, and with the other, he gripped the back of a thigh. Effectively holding her in place, Rock went to the next nipple. This time, he drew it to the back of his throat, including quite a bit of her breast with it. Unable to buck against his gentle yet effective hold, she squeezed her eyes shut and screamed out. “Too much!”
Going back to the opposite breast, Rock mirrored his movements, keeping his hands intently steady no matter her continual protests. In the meantime, another set of hands eased panties from her legs. Sixten. Identifying his signature power radiating from him, she recognized his touch without opening her eyes. Pressing large palms against her inner thighs, Sixten spread her wide.
“What a luscious vision,” her crazy male crooned. His scorching mouth met her pussy, going right for her piercing. When he suckled her clit across his moist tongue, she sucked in a sharp breath. It stung, much like what Rock was doing to her breast, but she did not want him to stop. Blythe reached down and clutched his silky strands, tilting her pelvis to allow Sixten better access. The action thrust her breast further into Rock’s mouth and he groaned against her flesh. Taking one hand from her inner thigh, Sixten reached under her bottom and lifted her pelvis higher so she could relax against his mouth.