“You crocked it?”
“For now. I thought perhaps you could pay him a visit over the next few days. Perhaps take Decoy with you and assess the situation for yourself.”
“Decoy?”
“Mishka, please. There is no one else who can be trusted.”
“Not even you?”
“Especially not me. I do not know... how things should be with this kind of thing. I did not live this life and I am not a parent.”
I disagreed. There was more to being a parent than biology. Not a day passed when every brother on the council didn’t prove that. But I didn’t have the brain power to argue with Alexei and his lack of self-worth, and he was right about the rest of it. Left to my own devices, Folk would’ve been my first choice, and I’d have been wrong.
“I need to go.” Alexei rose. “Can I trust you not to move on this tonight?”
My grunt was noncommittal, but Alexei saw through it and walked away without promising the same and without giving me the chance to thank him for watching over my kid while I’d been gone.
It left me with my thoughts, and my mind began to feel like the expression I saw on Cam’s face sometimes. When he had so many things to think about—important fuckin’ things—that he needed to punch something to figure it all out. Or accept that he couldn’t.
And that’s what I needed too, the accepting part. Willow was an adult. If she wanted to be with a dude seven years older than her, there was fuck all I could do about it. Except—except, there were lots of fuckin’ things I could do about it, and the temptation to act on them was strong enough that I knew I needed to go back inside and find someone sensible to talk me down.
First, though, I pulled out my phone and fired a text to my daughter.
Dad:stay home tomorrow. i’m coming to see you
She didn’t reply, which let me know she was asleep, seeing as she was surgically attached to her phone when she wasn’t. And me? Despite my aching bones, I felt awake enough to never sleep again.
I hauled myself out of my chair and stomped back inside, heading for the residence this time, heeding a message from Nash that he’d taken Orla to bed and stayed there. On the landing, I checked the other rooms, habit more than anything. Rubi and River were asleep in Mateo’s old bed, Ranger in Nash’s, his long body curved around Lida. No fuckin’ clue where Viktor was, except a certainty that he hadn’t gone far. No one would, not for a while. I fuckin’ felt it.
I shut Ranger’s door and checked the landing escape routes. Then I finally let myself into the presidential suite our queen had claimed as her own these past few months—the big bed and the private bathroom.
The shower was on, which accounted for Nash. Orla was by the window, her leggings gone but still wrapped up in Logan’s shirt and thick socks pulled up to her knees.
I moved behind her, circling her bump with my arms and lifting it just a tiny bit, taking the weight.
She groaned, low in her throat. “You have no idea how good that feels.”
No. But I believed the primal sounds she made every time I did it. And I knew the physical toll this pregnancy was taking on her. The fatigue, the sickness. The sheer endurance of carrying two extra humans. However much she welcomed the discomfort for every day it kept our babies safe inside her, it was a marathon only she could run.
I kissed her neck. “Maybe you should lie down.”
“Maybe you should stand right there all night and tell me what Alexei said to piss you off so much.”
“I’m not pissed off.”
“Fucking furious then. Whatever. Don’t get pedantic with me, sweetheart.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I eased my arms from her stomach and turned her around, drinking in her flushed face—herglowingface, despite how tired she was. Her full lips and huge tits. That belly. She’d been beautiful before, but pregnant... fuckin’ hell. I wanted her so much and it had nothing to do with sex. “Lie down with me.”
“Sure, if you feel like being squashed.”
I didn’t mind it. We moved to the bed. I ditched my boots and swapped my jeans for sweats, losing the hoodie and T-shirt I’d ridden home in, the ones I’d walked into the sea to keep Folk with us. It had been a wild few days. Weird, for a passage in time that had felt so fuckin’ quiet.
“Willow has a boyfriend.”
Still undressing, I said it without looking at Orla, giving her my scarred back.
I felt her move closer, her hands a soft contrast to Nash’s as she smoothed them over my ruined flesh.