Page 29 of Betrayed Knocked-Up Mate (Rosecreek Special Ops Wolves #8)
The late summer light in Rosecreek has a quality all its own, I’ve learned—softer than California's harsh brilliance, gentler than the stark contrasts I chased across Asia. Through my camera's viewfinder, I watch it paint poetry across familiar faces as the pack gathers for the evening's celebration.
My growing belly makes finding the right angle challenging, arms aching more easily from holding a camera than they used to, but four months of adjusting to these changes has taught me to adapt. The child beneath my heart stirs as I crouch to capture Elena teaching some of the younger pack members about surveillance tech, her patience evident in every gesture. The moment feels significant somehow—the passing of knowledge, the building of trust, the subtle ways our two groups have woven themselves together into something new and stronger.
Marcus's team has transformed the old Carter property downriver into their base of operations, just far enough from the pack center to maintain autonomy but close enough that the boundaries between our communities grow more permeable each day.
They travel often to Marshall City, still helping with rebuilding efforts there, but providing lots of aid in Minnesota, too, where pack politics in the shifter world are still upside-down. The building project itself has given everyone purpose in the aftermath of Kane's death—shifters and humans working side by side, just like his parents dreamed.
We want to build something good out here. Something kind, and gentle.
Through the lens, I catch Asher watching Maia as she helps James demonstrate proper bandaging technique to some of the pack's younger members. There's something tender in his expression that makes my photographer's instincts sing. I snap the shot before he notices, capturing that unguarded moment. Maia glances up as if sensing his attention, and the smile they share could power the whole town.
"Those two are worse than we ever were," Rafael's voice comes from behind me, rich with amusement.
I straighten carefully, one hand pressed to my lower back as I turn to face my brother. “Something tells me it might be a long road for them yet.”
"Unlike some people I could name?" His eyebrow raises meaningfully, but there's no heat in the words. Three months have softened the edges of old hurts, turned them into something we can almost joke about.
"Marcus and I got there eventually." I lean into his side as he wraps an arm around my shoulders. Through the pack bonds, I feel his contentment, his pride, his lingering protectiveness that now extends to his future niece or nephew.
"Speaking of getting there..." Rafael nods toward where Marcus stands deep in conversation with Aris, likely discussing the latest intelligence about remaining radical groups. Even from here, I can see the easy confidence in his stance—no trace remaining of Kane's serum since James and Veronica perfected the cure. "He's good for you. Better this time around."
"He's good for all of us." I adjust my camera's focus to capture the way Marcus's hands move as he speaks, all controlled power and subtle grace. As if sensing my attention, he glances our way, his smile hitting me like summer lightning. "The teams work well together."
"They do." Rafael's tone turns thoughtful. "It's what their parents wanted, isn't it? Cooperation. Understanding. Building bridges instead of walls."
The reminder settles warm in my chest as I survey the gathering through my lens. Everywhere I look, I see evidence of those bridges: Byron teaching Asher's tactical team about pack protocols while Keira adds her expertise to the conversation. Thalia and James comparing notes on emergency field medicine.
A burst of laughter draws my attention to where Veronica has commandeered the grill, playfully swatting Marcus's hands away as he tries to help. The domesticity of the scene makes my heart clench—this is what we fought for, what Kane tried to destroy. Not just survival, but community. Family.
"You're getting sentimental in your old age," Rafael teases, catching my expression.
"Blame the hormones." I pat my belly as the baby kicks, strong enough now for others to feel. "Your niece or nephew is very opinionated about everything these days."
"Wonder where they get that from." His mock-serious tone dissolves into a yelp as I elbow him in the ribs. "Hey, be careful with the merchandise! Thalia’s very protective of me, you know.”
"God knows where you’d be without her." I turn my camera toward where several younger pack members are very obviously trying to catch his attention. “Maybe you should go seek out her protection right about now, brother-mine.”
His ears redden slightly. "Don't start."
"Wouldn't dream of it." But I can't resist taking a few shots of his flustered expression for future blackmail material.
Movement catches my eye as Marcus extracts himself from his conversation with Aris, making his way toward us with that fluid grace that still makes my heart race. Rafael straightens slightly beside me, and I have to bite back a smile at his instinctive big-brother posturing.
"Duty calls," he says dryly.
I swat at him as he retreats, but my attention is already caught by the way Marcus's eyes darken as he approaches. The mate bond hums between us, strong and sure, carrying echoes of his desire, his pride, his endless wonder at the life we've created.
"Having fun?" He slides his arms around me from behind, one hand splaying possessively across my stomach while the other steadies my camera.
"Mmm." I lean back against his chest, letting his warmth seep into my bones. "Just documenting the rebuilding. These moments matter—they're proof that Kane was wrong about everything. That no matter how much we endure as shifters, we can rely on each other.”
His lips brush my temple tenderly, and warmth shoots up through me in a rush.
"Speaking of documentation..." He reaches into his pocket, producing a familiar-looking envelope. "Got the latest scans from Veronica this morning. Want to see?"
My heart skips as I open the ultrasound images with trembling fingers. Each one shows our child from different angles—tiny hands, the curve of a spine, features becoming more distinct with each passing week.
"Strong heartbeat," Marcus murmurs against my hair. "Healthy development. Everything exactly as it should be."
The simple statement carries worlds of meaning. After everything we've been through, after all the fear and fighting and running, here we are: building the future Kane tried to prevent, stronger together than we ever were apart.
Through my viewfinder, I catch a moment between Elena and a shifter I haven’t yet met—her hand brushing his arm as they laugh at some shared joke, his expression softening in a way I recognize from my own photographs of Marcus. The next generation of bridges being built, of boundaries being crossed, of love proving stronger than fear.
"Your parents would be proud," I say softly, feeling Marcus go still behind me. "Of all of this. Of you."
His arms tighten around me as he buries his face in my neck, breathing in our mingled scents. The bond between us pulses with emotion too big for words—grief and joy, and fierce determination all tangled together.
"They would have loved you," he manages finally. "Would have spoiled our child rotten."
"Still will." I turn in his arms, letting the camera hang forgotten around my neck as I cup his face between my palms. "Through us. Through everything we build here. Through every story I document and every life you protect."
The kiss he gives me tastes like promise. Around us, the pack-and-more gathering continues—voices raised in laughter, bonds strengthening between former strangers, bridges being built one moment at a time.
Through it all, the child beneath my heart dances to the rhythm of two communities becoming one, carrying forward a legacy of love stronger than any weapon Kane could have devised.
And I lift my camera once more, capturing it all through my lens: this moment, this love, this proof that some things are worth fighting for. Worth dying for. Worth living for.
Worth building together, one frame at a time.
I hold my breath and take the shot.