The next morning, I wake slowly, cocooned in my mate’s embrace. His hand is splayed wide across the gentle swell of my belly. Even in sleep, he holds me tight.
I lace my fingers through his. Last night’s ritual still lingers in my veins—a faint golden warmth connecting me to him and the pack.
“You’re thinking too loud again,” Kieran murmurs, his voice rough with sleep. He kisses my claiming mark. “How do you feel?”
“Tired. But okay.” I turn to face him.
His eyes are already bleeding gold, scanning my face with an intensity that makes my heart stutter. “The pup is calm this morning. Strong.”
The pup kicks gently against his palm. A rare, soft smile breaks across Kieran’s face.
“He knows his dad’s here,” he whispers, kissing the curve of my stomach. “My son. I’m going to keep you both
