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The sight of pride in her eyes was the hardest thing Kildare had ever stomached. He watched as Krave lowered and kissed her forehead.

“Are you scared?”

“No,” she said, sounding curious. “I have no fear. Do you think… he’ll be okay?”

“Who?” Krave asked.

“Kaos? And… our baby?”

Fuck.

“I’m praying everything turns out the way it needs to,” Krave whispered.

Clever answer.

She studied him for a moment. “How doyouwant it to turn out?”

He slid his fingers along her cheek, adoring the silk. “I want it to turn out as amazing as you are.”

“You’re so good at avoiding the truth,” she said softly. “It’s sweet. But… Iwantthis baby.”

“Little Saint,” he whispered or pled. “You realize Kaos did this to protect you.”

Kildare’s fire reached out and caressed her face, catching the tears that fell from her eyes.

“I know he did.” The deep pain in her voice brought heat to his flames. “But… he’s wrong about our baby. And me. And himself. I didn’t have time to show him. I need to show him what he means to me. He needs to understand that… I love him as much as I love you and Kildare, and I don’t even have guilt about it.”

The emotion in her sweet voice nearly killed Kildare but he was relieved at least she had no guilt, much like he had no possessiveness when it came to the other two Kings. It was as if she’d splintered into three unique individuals, each created for them and only them.

“Our sonwillbe good,” she assured.

Krave put his head on her shoulder and the Rider’s grief pummeled his fire. “Little Saint,” he croaked, broken. “Don’t do this.”

Her hand stroked his head. “Don’t be afraid,” she wept hotly. “There is nothing greater than the light of my three Kings. Our son will learn that.”

Her words brought Kildare to his knees next to her. He laid his head on her womb, willing all his angelic power into her words. Even while knowing whatmusthappen,wouldhappen. No matter what any of them wished or wanted or begged for.

****

By the time they made it to the city, the silence in the vehicle suffocated Reuban. Aside from barked directions every other minute, the gulf between them widened and filled with every manner of toxic substance. The last thing they needed in this prophetic storm was what brewed in their midst.

He realized she’d directed him to a mall. Great. Shopping to lighten the mood. He imagined her storming the department stores while he raced to keep up and treated him like a sexual predator hot on her heels.

She removed her seatbelt as he pulled into a parking spot like she might jump from the vehicle before he even stopped. “Before we go in, we need to talk.”

“I do not have time, Kollaborator,” she said, her voice cold with a restrained rage.

“Make time,” he said, not about to do a single thing till they talked.

She jerked her hand off the door handle and slammed it in her lap with an eternally frustrated breath. “Speak.”

“None of this can work if you’re pissed at me. I’m…” He found himself unable to apologize for what had happened. “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”

“Oh,” she said with a mocking calm, crossing her arms over her chest. “But you’re clearly not sorry.”

She seemed to know that for a fact. And it was a fact. He wasn’t one bit sorry aside from being interrupted. Wonder what she’d think of that?

“And your silence confirms it.”