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“Don’tCoveme. Never mind that you kept this to yourself.” She flings her arm toward me and Juniper. “You should have toldthem.”

“Hon, it wasn’t his news to tell,” Lark broaches. “It wasn’t his news to even find out about.”

“Brother, are you certain?” comes Cerulean’s annoyingly eloquent murmur. “You mean to say, you sensed Juniper’s pregnancy shortly before the flood?”

There’s a pause. “I heard the child.”

Clarity returns. The words grip my lungs, my stomach, my fucking heart.

As my head whips toward Elixir, I catch Juniper doing the same. This feels all sorts of wrong, finding this out in public and by accident, instead of us alone together, naked in bed, in the dark.

And why the fuck hasn’t she looked at me, even once? Whereas I’ve been casting her glances constantly.

Elixir speaks to Juniper. “When I shook your hand, I sensed movement inside you. I heard blood flowing around some type of form, outlining its shape. It was like…like an embryo floating.”

Because her sister doesn’t respond, Lark asks, “How could you hear that?”

“The water Fae have acute senses to fluid, but it’s more than that,” Cerulean explains. “Fae children are so entrenched in the womb, they’re beyond audible detection in the beginning. However, Elixir is a brewer who learned to inspect what’s occurring in any form of liquid. And while his senses were already powerful, they were honed further when he lost his sight.”

Elixir nods. “The embryo is too deep for other Faeries to locate. But not for me.”

“I’ve been feeling jolts in my stomach,” Juniper says.

“Of course, you have. The embryo is in flux, and you’re the mother. It is normal.”

That’s when it hits me with the force of a felled evergreen. It’s true. Juniper’s pregnant. She has a mini Juniper-and-Puck growing in her.

My woman’s pregnant. And it’s mine.

It’s ours.

There’s a seed inside her, made from one of the countless days and nights we’ve gone wild together, fucking like there was no tomorrow. We’d planted that seed during a moment when I’d been rooted inside her body.

My throat bobs as I swallow hard. I imagine that tiny nugget floating in Juniper’s womb, brimming with the soul of the woodland, with her intelligence and my…my what?

What the fuck do I have to offer a sapling?

Too many emotions surge together and swarm my head. From the cold blast of shock, to the worst case of scared-shitless I’ve ever known, to a nauseating bout of inadequacy, to something warmer, brighter, and more intoxicating than sex. I know what it is, but it’s never been this potent, not even when making Juniper come for minutes on end.

Happiness. That’s what this heady feeling is.

I’m happy.

Fables al-fucking-mighty. I’m going to be someone’s father. By some crazy miracle, I’m having a kid with the sexiest, smartest, strongest female to walk this forsaken earth.

I wheel toward Juniper. But her profile remains latched to Elixir, riveted on the facts he’s just laid out. With each passing second, her features crinkle, from the small patch of skin between her straight eyebrows to that stubborn chin. If there was ever proof of reality sinking in, it’s that expression.

That expression, which is on the brink of a scowl.

That scowl, which climbs up her face the moment she vaults my way.

Dammit. That’s the Mayhem Face. This isn’t the reaction I was hoping for.

“Juniper,” I begin but don’t get a chance to finish.

Her glower deepens, those green eyes vibrant with accusation and warning me to back off. They conceal what’s beneath the surface. Those depths reflect everything she won’t let the others witness, everything she can’t hide from me.

I see it and feel this truth right before Juniper turns on her heel and marches out of the copse. Bushes shudder as she charges away, tracking in the direction of our cabin. Her crossbow and pack with the book stay behind.