Morning light filtered through the cabin window, casting long shadows across the floor as I stared at my reflection in the small bathroom mirror. In just a few hours, I'd be mated to Kieran Harvest—not for love, not for passion, but for protection. For my unborn twins.
"You're doing that thing again," Maria said, watching me from the doorway. "That thing where your face gets all scrunchy like you're mentally listing every possible disaster."
I am not, I signed, turning away from my reflection.
"Yeah, you totally are." She handed me a steaming mug of ginger tea. "Drink this. Should help with the puking situation."
The tea was perfect—strong and sweet. Maria had been making it for me every morning since we found out about the pregnancy. Small gestures like this made me feel less alone, l
