Page 182

Aaron

I watched my two mates walk over to the couch and sit down, then Brandon drew her feet up into his lap and started to stroke them. She hated it at first. Seeing her feet swell to twice their size just seemed to remind her of the other changes in her body, changes she hated and I loved.

Jules was always hot to me. When I’d first met her, here was this scrappy chick, all long wavy hair and big brown eyes, looking seriously seedy while the uniform hugged her curves in all the right places, but somehow, that was nothing compared to now.

She’d transformed from a beautiful woman into a fucking goddess.

Every curve, every line of her body screamed a lush ripeness I just wanted to bite down on, and with Brandon touching her?

I watched the muscles in his shoulders move under his t-shirt as he cared for our mate and found myself wanting to slide on in between them, grab Brandon’s head, and crush my mouth down on his before turning to Jules and kissing her long and sweet.

“Gimme a hand?” Hawk said with a knowing smirk.

“Yeah, sure.”

We moved the plates into the kitchen, depositing the dirty ones in the sink, and put the leftovers into containers.

“Find that pretty hot, do ya?” he asked as I snapped the lids on.

I glanced back over my shoulder and smiled. “You know what it’s like. You love her, you love him, and seeing them together… Not sure what’s it's like with Jack, but it fucking does it for me.”

“Same. They fight like cats and dogs, but I just sit there, watching the two of them sparring and just…love them. I can’t think of any other way to put it.”

“Where is Jack, anyway? Haven’t seen him around much.”

“You know Jack. He…” Hawk looked over to where Jules reclined on the couch, Brandon’s hands working in strong sure strokes along her calves to increase the circulation. Fuck, now I wanted him to do the same to me, or I could… “He deals with things his own way.”

“By being a bit of a prick?”

“By being a bit of a prick. He’s scared, and he knows he gets mean when he feels like his back is against the wall, so he’s spending some time away from the house.”

“But he’s missing this, everything,” I said, not understanding what the bloke’s problem was. Compared to the way things were through the portal, we were as happy as pigs in shit, and I found myself resenting Hawk’s mate for not getting on board with that.

Hawk just watched me with a steady gaze, a slight smile on his face. He was quiet, still, something I both admired and wondered about. Made you think about what was going on in that head of his, like right now.

“Don’t you think he knows that? It’s what winds him that much tighter.”

I shook my head, but didn’t want to wreck what I had here with an argument.

I ran the water and filled the sink as Hawk cleaned the kitchen benches, shoving my hands in when it was full enough.

I washed the plates with quick efficiency, having pulled mess duty plenty of times, and listened more to the giggles Brandon was pulling from our mate than paid attention to what I was doing, conjuring up all sorts of scenarios in my mind of what was happening in the lounge, which was probably why the next thing happened.

“Fuck!”

I yanked my hands out of the water, and saw bright red blood stream down the side of my hand.

“Holy shit!” Hawk said, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a clean tea towel. I hissed when he wrapped it around tightly, his fingers clamping down to try and stem the bleeding. Initially, it was just shock as my eyes fixed on the spreading red stain, then came the sickening wash of pain.

It was weird, knife cuts. They were often not even that deep, but they stung like a motherfucker.

I gritted my teeth, took my hand from Hawk, and held it high above my head to slow the blood flow, but even I could see this was a bad one.

Trickles of blood ran down my arm, and as I watched, I saw the kitchen in a whole other light.

Of course, I’d cut myself. I’d dumped a bloody great chef’s knife in with a whole lot of other sharp or breakable objects.

There were piles of ceramic plates everywhere, ready to smash into sharp knives, or glasses to do the same.

Several heavy cast-iron pans that could crush a skull, big cans of food that could do the same.

There were chemicals by the sink and under it, small machines with whirring blades.

I looked at Jules, at the rounded swell of her stomach, and imagined our little girl stumbling around in this.

She could pull pots of hot water down on herself, cut herself with knives, she could drink chemicals or get them in her beautiful eyes, she could smash plates or cups, get shards of it in her skin.

For a moment, that’s all I saw—a wide eyed little girl, Jules in the miniature, looking up at me as blood streamed from her every limb, her face a mask of pain as she waited for her dad to make it better.

Fuck, I’d gone soft. I was a soldier, and soldiers assessed the risks of any given environment, then got rid of those they could and minimised the rest.

“This has got to go,” I said, feeling a rush of fear and relief that I’d had this realisation now. Maybe what I’d just had was like one of Brandon’s visions, a view of a future that I could change.

“What? The food’s fine, you didn’t get any blood on it,” Hawk said. “Though, you might need to see Doc and get a couple of stitches.”

“No, not that, this.” I swept my other hand wide, gesturing to the whole house.

God, there were curtain pulls to choke her, pillows to smother her, smooth tiles to slip and crack her skull on, and toilets and baths to drown in.

Buddy’s water bowl and food. The steps out the back door.

The garden tools. “Fuck…” I said, seeing it all now. “Fuck.”

“Are you OK?” Jules asked, appearing by my side. Fuck, I needed to protect her too.

It was like just slicing my finger had opened up a can of worms I hadn’t known I was sitting on. I frowned as it hit me, memory after memory.

We’d squashed the Volken, but the Great Wolf, Branwen…

I swallowed hard as I considered how we’d been manipulated all along, nudged together and then pushed along until we freed the Black Wolf.

From what I saw of that Branwen chick, she was as much of a problem as Lonan was.

Those fucking smoke wolves. I’d had plenty of nightmares with those bastards as features, avoiding my every shot.

From death comes rebirth, the White Wolf had said, and my eyes dropped down to Jules’ stomach. What if…

Stop , my Tirian said. This is not our way.

But—

What does a warrior do in the face of an enemy?

Assesses his strengths and weaknesses, then takes the fucker down.

So what can you do in this instance? I looked around the room, starting to see solutions. Making the den safe for the pups has honour. Do that.

“Here,” Jules said, taking my hand in hers.

The wound glowed gold for a moment through the cloth, like I was holding a handful of lightning or something, and then when she peeled back the bloody cloth, I saw the cut had closed.

I looked at my mate, so strong and capable, and knew I needed to be the same.

I needed to make this place safe for the baby.

I pulled her in close to me, just breathing in her honeysuckle scent for a moment before pressing my lips to hers. “Thanks.”

“It’s OK. What happened? Did you?—”

“Cut myself on a knife in the sink. Brandon, you got anything on today?”

“Nope, just chilling with Jules, though she does have that appointment with the midwife later.”

“Good. Hawk, you can finish off here and look after Jules, right?” He nodded, looking a little bemused.

“Awesome. Brandon, you’re with me. We’re gonna sort this place out, get it ready for the baby.

We should’ve been on this weeks ago. Then I’m going down to my CO, see about getting some blokes posted at the perimeter each night. ”

“Is there something about to happen that I’m not aware of?” Jules said, her hands going to her belly. I just drank that in for a moment, holding it in my mind’s eye so I could pull it out later.

“No, love, just making sure nothing does.”