Chapter 111: The Unraveling 2

Our meetings, despite this tension, remained pleasant, and the babe continued growing steadily within me. A doctor visited on one occasion, and M learned of the appointment and asked, almost pleaded, to be present. My father granted permission, much to my simmering annoyance - I had grown so used to guarding my privacy that the thought of M witnessing something so intimate felt like surrendering yet another small piece of myself. Marissa stayed in the room as well, a quiet chaperone, and M waited patiently until I lay properly settled in bed, covered in such a way that only the gentle curve of my rounded belly showed. He hovered the entire time like an anxious mother hen, peppering both me and the doctor with an endless stream of questions, his brow furrowed with a concentration that seemed almost comical on someone so young. The doctor, clearly amused, answered each one with patience, visibly marveling at the young man’s earnest curiosity and surprising depth of knowledge. M admitted, somewhat sheepishly, that he had spent weeks reading everything he could find about pregnancy and childbirth, even seeking out relatives and friends who already had children to ask about their own experiences, his cheeks coloring slightly as he confessed it, as though embarrassed by his own devotion.

The doctor finished his examination and declared that everything progressed exactly as it should, then allowed Marissa to walk him out. I remained in bed, reluctant to rise and expose more of myself than necessary, though some traitorous part of my mind whispered that he had already seen far more than this. I busied myself scolding that persistent thought, a path my mind wandered more frequently these days, slipping even into my dreams uninvited, so much so that I nearly missed M’s quiet question entirely.

He cleared his throat and asked again, softer this time, "Can I touch the baby?"

I blinked, certain I must have misheard him, but the hopeful, vulnerable look on his face killed the refusal rising in my throat. Something in his expression, so open and unguarded, made it impossible to deny him. I nodded instead, settling back against the pillows, silently hoping Marissa would return soon to end this strange intimacy.

M’s hands trembled as he hesitated above my belly for a long moment before finally making contact. I drew in a sharp breath at the warmth and size of his palms, stirring up all those inconvenient memories I’d spent days trying desperately to suppress. He cupped the gentle dome of my stomach with a tenderness that stole my breath, his thumb stroking slow circles across it, wonder and delight blooming openly across his face. With his free hand, he dragged his chair closer, then leaned down to press the softest, most careful kiss against my belly. The touch lingered only a moment, yet it seemed to echo through my entire body, warm and unsettling in equal measure.

I stared at him, stunned, unable to reconcile the blissful expression on his face with the boy I thought I’d known. Gone was the arrogance I had grown accustomed to, replaced by something so soft and unguarded that I hardly recognized him. He leaned in further, and I braced instinctively for his lips against my skin again, but he stopped just a breath away, choosing instead to murmur softly to the child, telling it how happy he was, how eagerly he awaited their meeting, instructing it gently not to give its mother any trouble, all the sweet nonsense expectant fathers everywhere seemed compelled to say.

This was a side of him I never could have imagined existing, not in a thousand years. He seemed genuinely, thoroughly happy, promising the unborn child that he would teach it everything it needed to know about the world. He declared, with mock seriousness, that it absolutely had to be a boy, for if it were a girl, half as beautiful as her mother, he would have no choice but to burn the world down just to keep her safe. His voice carried such conviction that I nearly believed he meant every ridiculous word.

I laughed at his nonsense, feeling something in my chest loosen, some wall I’d spent years constructing crumbling in this single ridiculous moment. I teased him, asking what he’d do if their son wanted a sister after all.

He shook his head firmly, insisting he wanted only boys, five of them at minimum, for even a single daughter would drive him half-mad with worry. He’d watched his cousin, father to three daughters, scowl constantly at everyone, especially the "little devils," as he called them, the boys his daughters played with at school, none of whom were older than ten. He recounted this with such exaggerated horror that I could easily picture the poor, harried man he described.

My laughter rang out clear and bright through the room, drawing a smile from Marissa, who had been lingering just outside the door for a while now. It had been a long time, she realized with quiet surprise, since she’d last heard her charge laugh so freely. Perhaps, she thought, things between those two wouldn’t turn out so terribly after all.

She knocked and entered then, asking the young man to excuse them so I could dress properly. Soon the two of us were walking together through the garden, the afternoon sun warm against our backs. M guided me to the swing beneath the old oak tree before settling himself on the grass beside me, close enough that I could feel the quiet warmth radiating from him. We talked of people we’d known growing up, of small things, of what the doctor had said that morning. Then he looked up at me, his expression suddenly open and unguarded.

"I love you," he said.

The words, so simple and direct, hit me with the force of a physical blow. I stopped swinging, my feet digging into the soft earth, my heart suddenly hammering against my ribs.

"I’ve loved you since the day I first saw you," he continued, his voice earnest and raw, "even though at the time I didn’t understand why my heart raced the way it did. At first, I thought it meant you were dangerous, and in a way, I suppose you were, since you’d stolen my heart before I even understood what was happening. Then I grew angry every time you smiled at someone else, certain you’d turn them against me somehow, though I couldn’t have explained why I believed that."

He paused, his gaze dropping to his hands where he was picking at a blade of grass, his fingers restless with the memory. "When you marked me, I didn’t understand what had happened at all. Getting used to my wolf’s voice in my head was difficult enough at first, but all he ever begged for was you. All he ever spoke of was you. Then one night, the first night my heat truly hit me, he drove me here, to your house. Your parents were hosting a party, the whole place blazing with light and music. I caught the scent of several females nearby their heat cycles, most of them older than me and clearly unmated, and the smell made me so violently ill that I actually vomited in the bushes. I wanted to leave immediately, but my wolf refused, desperate for just one glimpse of you, so I circled around to the other side of the house instead."

He looked back up at me, his eyes dark with the memory, something haunted flickering behind them. "That’s when I saw you. You must have been fourteen then. You looked so beautiful, like something not quite human, not quite real. The wind carried your scent to me, and it calmed my wolf instantly, more than anything else had that whole night. I wanted to approach you, but the sight of other boys gathered around you shattered something in my chest. It was then I understood, truly understood, that I was your mate now, and that I could never belong to anyone else. I went home that night furious, at the bond, at fate, at my own foolishness for taking years to recognise what I’d apparently felt all along."

He took a shaky breath, his vulnerability a stark contrast to the arrogant boy I thought I knew, and for a moment he seemed almost boyish, stripped of all pretense. "But," he added, meeting my eyes once more, steady this time, "I’ve accepted my fate now. I want to stay with you, not merely because the bond demands it, but because I love you, truly and completely. You were my first, and you will be my only. This child may well be the only one I’m ever granted, so I’m asking you, please, don’t let my child grow up without a father beside them. I won’t survive long if you force me to let you go, but I would do it, if that is truly what you want."