KATHERINE POV
If one more of my mates tried to carry me to the bathroom, I was going to fake a shift, bite someone, and run away naked through the woods.
I loved them. I truly, deeply did. But ever since the little bean growing inside of me made their grand thump-thump debut on that damn screen, I’d apparently lost the right to walk, sneeze, or blink without one of them glued to my hip.
Literally.
I could barely take a breath without Keegan hovering nearby with a blanket, Kendrick installing yet another set of pillows like I was some kind of fragile porcelain goddess, and Kyle shoving tea into my hands—because coffee, apparently, was too 'stimulating' and had been swiftly outlawed. Much to my eternal suffering.
Kingsley? That smug alpha just watched them all like a proud cult leader b
