Page 40 of Fighter Bear: Steel Protection
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“Seven weeks?”
“Yeah. Probably our wedding night.”
He laughed and pulled her against him again.
His wolf was howling. “I’m going to be a father.”
“Yeah, you are.”
He held her there for a long time. The light through the window had started to soften toward evening, the long northern dusk that Ireland did in May. He could hear the two Highland cows in the field mooing.
He kissed her. Slow. His mouth was wet and his eyes were wet and her face was wet too. He didn’t know which of them was crying and he didn’t care. He put his hand flat on her stomach over the soft cotton of her sweater. He could feel warm small life inside his mate. Right there under his palm. He finally had something truly worth fighting for.
