Page 60 of Pack Baby for the Bratva
Then he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my forehead with a gentleness that didn't match the call.
"Welcome home," he said.
The front doors opened before anyone knocked. A woman in a dark dress stood flanked by two guards. Behind her, the foyer swept upward in pale stone and dark wood, a chandelier spilling light across a staircase built for dramatic entrances.
Fergus sneezed.
"Same," I whispered.
Ivan stepped out first with Mac against his chest. Gregor lifted Fergus in one hand and my bag in the other. Artem offered me his arm.
I looked at it. Then at the house. Then at the men that were now tethered to me by a scent and a baby.
"If this place has a dungeon," I said, "I'm leaving."
Artem's mouth twitched. "It has a wine cellar."
"That's not as reassuring as you think."
"No dungeon," Gregor said behind me.
I glanced back. "You hesitated."
"There is an old ice room."
"For God's sake."
The woman in the dark dress made a small noise that might have been a cough.
I turned to her. "Please tell me you're the housekeeper and not the person assigned to teach me which fork is for intimidating relatives."
Her mouth trembled. "Mrs. Dale. Housekeeper."
"Lovely. I'm Maeve. This is Mac. The dog is Fergus. If anyone calls me ma'am more than twice in a row, I'm taking to my bed and not coming out."
Mrs. Dale smiled properly. "Understood, Mrs. Petrov."
"Oh, we're not there yet."
Artem's hand settled at my lower back. "We will be."
"Confidence is attractive until it becomes paperwork."
Ivan laughed, low and warm. Even Mrs. Dale glanced down at her clipboard.
It helped. Not enough to make the house less enormous. Enough to make the first step inside mine.
The house swallowed us in polished wood and cut flowers and armed men and a future I was nowhere near ready for.
For now, I had Mac against my chest and Fergus trotting at my heels and three alphas who'd looked at our son like he was the first good thing they'd ever been allowed to keep.
12
Artem
The Surrey estate wasa fortress. Motion sensors, armed patrols, a reinforced perimeter that could hold off a small army. None of it mattered.
Standing in the master bedroom doorway watching Maeve sleep with Mac on her chest, I was absolutely defenseless.
