Page 27 of Tangled Souls (Bratva Souls Duet #2)

ONE YEAR LATER

OAKLYNN

For a while after Mikhail was captured, tortured, and killed, I thought I was going to drown in cum. Not literally, but I swear there was more cum in my body than any one person should have. Once the immediate threat was neutralized, my men put all of their effort into another mission.

Getting me pregnant.

It didn’t take nearly as long as I thought it was going to, maybe only about six weeks, when all was said and done. Like I said, I was drowning in cum.

Even once I got pregnant, since I didn’t know right away, the cum-fest lasted much longer than those six weeks.

It’s not like I was complaining, not really, but sometimes a girl just needs a little space to breathe and to walk normally. I swear I looked like I was waddling everywhere I went.

But I love my overzealous men.

And I love our daughter even more.

I look down at the bundle in my arms and smile softly as Reign opens her dark eyes.

Logically, I know she can’t really see me all that well since she’s only a few weeks old, but I swear she’s looking deep into my soul.

Maybe it’s just the connection we have, one forged as I sheltered her while she grew.

Maybe it’s a sign of what is to come in her life.

She’s meant for remarkable things. I can feel it. There are times when I’m holding her, and it feels like fate is caressing both of us.

What I am sure about is that my men, her fathers, will protect her until their last breath and probably even beyond that. Just like they will do for me.

There is no doubt about the love our house contains. It’s in every breath we take, every smile we share, and even in every dirty diaper we change. My men aren’t ones to shy away from anything when it comes to our daughter.

“Your fathers are a little crazy,” I whisper to Reign, and I swear she smiles in response.

I remember the day I told my husbands about the pregnancy. It was a little over four months after Mikhail was dealt with. I was so fucking nervous about the whole thing, but I’m not sure why.

They were trying to get me pregnant—evident by the amount of cum I was dealing with—but I was nervous about the idea of it becoming a reality.

I was barely able to keep the dinner Maxim had cooked down because I was so fucking nervous. I looked around the table and sighed. They were relaxed, something which was becoming more common as the days passed with Mikhail and his bullshit behind us.

When I cleared my throat, all eyes snapped to me. I thought for a moment that I saw Maxim smirk, but then it was gone, and he only looked curious.

“I’m pregnant,” I whispered the words slowly as if that could stave off the impending reaction.

It couldn’t.

When nothing happened, and I mean fucking nothing, my eyes widened and filled with tears as I looked at my men. Then I noticed the smug expressions on their faces and suspicion started to creep in.

“We know, Solnishko ,” Kirill’s voice was deep with an edge of victory.

“Wh-what? What do you mean you know?” I sputtered the questions, barely getting them past my lips.

That damn smirk was back on Maxim’s face, and I knew I hadn’t imagined it moments before. “We know your body, Oaklynn,” he informed me, almost offhandedly.

“You knew?” I asked, mostly for clarity.

“We were wondering when you were going to figure it out,” Baker let me know while grinning from ear to ear.

I wanted to be mad. Anger tried to bubble up in my chest, but it fizzled out just as quickly. With a huff, I sat back in my chair and sighed, “Dessert, then?”

Their laughter put a smile on my face. Later that night they all took the time to show me how much they love me and then spent far too long pressing their lips against my belly and talking to our baby.

The talking thing didn’t stop during my entire pregnancy, warming my heart with every murmured promise and soft caress. They didn’t just treat me like a queen; they treated me like a goddess.

My husband’s stood strong and sure throughout the entire pregnancy while also throwing themselves into it as much as they could. I’m not sure a pregnancy or parenting book exists that wasn’t purchased and read by my men.

I was constantly asked how I was doing or led somewhere to sit down. Then the orders began. About how much time I was spending at Clockwork, which has been a tremendous success. About my caffeine intake. About the food I was eating.

The only thing that saved their lives more than once was how much I love my men. Otherwise, I would have been covered in their blood without a single fuck given.

Honestly, the promise I made to myself not to kill one of them almost flew out the window the night I went into labor. They approached it like a mission, each one of them having a job they were going to see through with precision.

But they hated seeing me in pain. Kirill barked at the nurses. Maxim hounded the doctor. Huck fucking hacked into the security cameras to make sure we were safe. Baker stood like a sentry by my side.

It was adorable. And incredibly annoying.

Then that feeling melted away the moment Reign was born, and she was put on my chest, all wiggly limbs and lungs that wouldn’t quit. I thought I fell for my men pretty much at first sight, but that had nothing on the first glimpse I had of our daughter.

And then I fell in love with my men over and over again as I watched them fall head over heels for our queen in the making.

Out of nowhere, the weight in my arms is lifted which surprises the hell out of me. I pull the knife I have hidden between the cushions of the glider—just for now—and press the tip against a crotch. A crotch I know.

I can’t hide the grimace as I move the knife back to its hiding spot and look up to find Kirill. He’s looking down at me with amusement and a sparkle in his eyes that speaks of payback later. He’s cradling our daughter so damn carefully and it makes my heart flip in my chest.

When I look past him, I find Huck, Baker, and Maxim looking at me. Baker doesn’t even try to hide his grin. Huck has the decency to cover his mouth as his shoulders shake with silent glee. Maxim, the troublemaker, smirks.

“At least I didn’t cut him,” I defend myself.

My men laugh and I watch in awe, not just at the sound, but at the way they press closer to Reign. Even though it hasn’t been nearly enough time, I swear my ovaries give a little throb at the idea of letting them plant another baby in me.