Page 38
Story: Mortify
"Regnor—"
"I'm not asking for feelings you don't have," he clarifies quickly. "I'm not expecting anything from you except letting me protect you. Both of you. But to the world, you're my woman. My baby. My family to protect."
The room spins.
This is happening too fast.
This morning I didn't even know I was pregnant, and now he's offering to claim a baby that isn't his, to face the wrath of the club, to tie himself to me and my mess.
"Why?" I whisper. "Why would you do this?"
"Because you deserve better than living in fear. Because that baby deserves better than Dylan Mitchell as a father. And because I've wanted you for longer than I should admit, and if this is how I get to protect you and be with you, then so be it."
"This is fucking insane," I repeat, but something in me is considering it. "People don't just claim other men's babies."
"I do." He reaches out slowly, giving me time to pull back.
When I don't, his hand cups my cheek. "Say yes, Everly. Let me protect you."
"I..." The word sticks.
This morning, I was trapped with no way out.
Now he's offering me an escape, but at what cost? "What about Dylan? He won't just accept this."
"Let me worry about Dylan."
"He's dangerous. He's connected to?—"
"I know exactly what he's connected to," Regnor says darkly. "Been doing my homework. He's not as untouchable as he makes it seem."
I stare at him, this man offering to upend his entire life for me and a baby that isn't even his. "If we do this, there's no going back. The club will expect... things. People will talk. You'll be stuck with me."
"Stuck?" His thumb brushes over my cheekbone. "Sweetheart, I'd claim you in front of the whole damn world if you'd let me. This just gives me an excuse."
"But the baby?—"
"Will be mine in every way that matters." His voice is fierce. "Blood doesn't make a father. Choice does. And I choose you. Both of you."
The tears come again, but different this time.
Tears of relief, of hope, of possibility. "You're sure?"
"Never been more sure of anything." He pulls me closer, and I don't resist. "But we need to move fast. You need to block his number, cut all contact. Stay away from him completely."
"Already blocked him," I admit. "This morning, after..."
"Good. What else does he have at his place?"
"Nothing important. Some clothes I won't miss. Everything important is here."
"Then you're done. Clean break." His arms wrap around me, and for the first time in months, I feel safe. "I'll handle the rest."
"What about the club? Daddy's going to?—"
"I'll handle Kraken. I'll handle all of them." He pulls back to look at me. "All you need to worry about is taking care of yourself and the baby. Let me handle everything else."
"This is crazy," I say, but I'm already mentally accepting.
"I'm not asking for feelings you don't have," he clarifies quickly. "I'm not expecting anything from you except letting me protect you. Both of you. But to the world, you're my woman. My baby. My family to protect."
The room spins.
This is happening too fast.
This morning I didn't even know I was pregnant, and now he's offering to claim a baby that isn't his, to face the wrath of the club, to tie himself to me and my mess.
"Why?" I whisper. "Why would you do this?"
"Because you deserve better than living in fear. Because that baby deserves better than Dylan Mitchell as a father. And because I've wanted you for longer than I should admit, and if this is how I get to protect you and be with you, then so be it."
"This is fucking insane," I repeat, but something in me is considering it. "People don't just claim other men's babies."
"I do." He reaches out slowly, giving me time to pull back.
When I don't, his hand cups my cheek. "Say yes, Everly. Let me protect you."
"I..." The word sticks.
This morning, I was trapped with no way out.
Now he's offering me an escape, but at what cost? "What about Dylan? He won't just accept this."
"Let me worry about Dylan."
"He's dangerous. He's connected to?—"
"I know exactly what he's connected to," Regnor says darkly. "Been doing my homework. He's not as untouchable as he makes it seem."
I stare at him, this man offering to upend his entire life for me and a baby that isn't even his. "If we do this, there's no going back. The club will expect... things. People will talk. You'll be stuck with me."
"Stuck?" His thumb brushes over my cheekbone. "Sweetheart, I'd claim you in front of the whole damn world if you'd let me. This just gives me an excuse."
"But the baby?—"
"Will be mine in every way that matters." His voice is fierce. "Blood doesn't make a father. Choice does. And I choose you. Both of you."
The tears come again, but different this time.
Tears of relief, of hope, of possibility. "You're sure?"
"Never been more sure of anything." He pulls me closer, and I don't resist. "But we need to move fast. You need to block his number, cut all contact. Stay away from him completely."
"Already blocked him," I admit. "This morning, after..."
"Good. What else does he have at his place?"
"Nothing important. Some clothes I won't miss. Everything important is here."
"Then you're done. Clean break." His arms wrap around me, and for the first time in months, I feel safe. "I'll handle the rest."
"What about the club? Daddy's going to?—"
"I'll handle Kraken. I'll handle all of them." He pulls back to look at me. "All you need to worry about is taking care of yourself and the baby. Let me handle everything else."
"This is crazy," I say, but I'm already mentally accepting.
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