Epilogue: Leigh

Three days later

I stared down at the single word, taunting me, destroying me.

Pregnant.

It was insulting, the way it stared up at me in defiance from the pee stick like some sort of smug proclamation.

You're up the duff, lady, and you were too stupid to see all the signs.

No, not stupid. Somewhere, deep down, I suspected. Denial? She was the queen bitch of this fucked-up scenario.

How in the actual fuck had I, a single, unmated she-wolf, managed to get pregnant? Pregnancy was rare, even among fully bonded, committed shifter couples who rode out week-long heats together, barely coming up for air.

And yet here I was, apparently too fertile for my own good.

I wanted to blame Brielle, her stupid-potent omeganess clearly playing a hand in this. But I couldn't when I knew exactly how this had happened. Shit, I could pinpoint it, the moment clear as a bell ringing in my memory.

I could be twelve hundred years old, a decrepit crone of a wolf, and that memory would still send a shot of lust through me.

The sight of Gael, hovering over me, hands on either side of my head, cords straining in his neck as he worked his hips, grinding into me, and then ? —

I shook my head, forcing myself to let that memory die a slow, painful death. Let's not talk about the fact that I was slick with arousal just from the memory, okay? That was embarrassing and so not happening ever again .

But, damn. I was pregnant. It was too big, too much, too… everything. Overwhelming. But even as my mind spun with the absolute shitshow that was the drama this would cause, a tiny spark of joy burned in my chest.

I was having a baby. A tiny, perfect child to love and raise and spend the rest of my life with. It was nothing that I expected, and yet… I didn't regret it either. I could never regret her.

Her felt right. Granted, I'd probably have to wait a really long time to find out for sure, but something inside me was convinced it was a girl. My little perfect flower. No, she was too tiny to be a flower. Petal.

I could already see a little blonde mini-me, but with Gael's whiskey eyes, running and giggling, a crown of flowers on her head as I chased her through the sunshine. A bloom of protective instincts nearly overwhelmed me, and I rubbed the heel of my hand over my sternum, the intense need to protect this little miracle almost taking me to my knees. My brain was spinning, trying to process, trying to figure out a plan.

The world was dangerous, but I wasn't without resources, without friends.

But protecting her meant two things.

One, I had to tell Brielle, immediately. She was an omega, with fertility gifts. She could make sure my baby girl came safely into this world, and that was priceless beyond words. I barely knew my little Petal, but I knew I would give my life for hers.

Two, I was absolutely not sharing this news with Gael, at least not yet. He was too volatile, too hotheaded. Everyone thought he was so composed, but from where I was sitting, he might as well have been a stick of dynamite, and I was carrying news that was nothing less than incendiary.

This just didn't happen. Unplanned pregnancies for wolves weren't a thing, so how was he going to take it? We weren't fated, as far as I could tell. We were just… I didn't want to reduce it to a one-night stand, but fuck. He was a scorching-hot lay, but that was all.

Well, not all. He was now the father of my child. It was complicated, and when one of us did eventually find our mates, it was going to hurt like Satan's asshole to watch.

I dropped a hand over my lower belly cupping the space where I thought she was hiding.

We'll tell your daddy, just… not yet. I'll take care of you, Petal.

A knock at the door dragged me out of the internal conversation and into the harsh reality of our pack's situation.

"Leigh? The jet is ready. Do you need help with your bags?" Reed called cheerfully through the door, right as a wave of nausea burned up my esophagus.

Shit, shit, shit . Not now, please, not now!

I tried to swallow it down, but it was impossible. I abandoned the four pregnancy tests on the counter and ran for the toilet.

I dropped to my knees and heaved as quietly as I could but, with Reed waiting right outside the door?—

"Leigh?" He rattled the doorknob. "Leigh, are you okay in there?" He pounded the door, concern evident in his voice, even as I was stuck, every muscle locked in the tortured rictus of dry heaving .

I felt the smack of the door hitting the wall as much as heard it, dread filling me, while I was helpless to stop it.

He pounded through the door, crossing the threshold of the bathroom door in what felt like slow-mo, like a car crash you saw coming, but no matter how hard you slammed the brakes, you knew the collision was imminent.

"Leigh? Shit. Have you got the flu or something?" Reed, Goddess bless that man, dropped a comforting hand on my shoulder, not the least put off by a sick pack mate.

I sat back on my heels, finally through.

For the moment. This is officially morning sickness, not just airplane ick. Or the stomach flu. Or any of the nine thousand lies you've told yourself in the last month.

"I'll get you a washcloth." He turned to the sink, and my eyes fell closed.

There was no way he was going to miss?—

"Oh, fuck." He froze, his hand on the tap, washcloth dry in his hand as he stared, jaw slack at the evidence, plain to see.

He didn't say another word, though. He turned on the tap, quickly wetting, then wringing the cloth, before bypassing my extended hand and pressing it to my forehead himself.

His eyes were heavy with concern when they met mine.

"Does he know?"

I shook my head weakly, taking the cloth so I could wipe my clammy face and, finally, my mouth.

"Are you… keeping it?" I could tell it pained him to ask, but he didn't say it with judgment. It was verboten among wolves to terminate a pregnancy because pups were so rare. But he was right. I did have that choice.

"Of course I am," I murmured without hesitation.

His shoulders sagged with relief. I could imagine. It was one thing to keep my secret from his best friend; it was another entirely to keep a secret abortion from his best friend.

But if I had gotten to know Reed half as well as I thought I had, he would have kept that secret too if I'd asked it of him. He was a good man.

He extended a hand, helping me up from the cool tile floor—which wasn't half bad, actually, when you were hot and sick—and guided me to the bed.

"You just sit here. I'll run your bags to the plane and come back with one of those sodas. What kind is it?"

"Ginger ale." The memory of Gael pressing the only drink that soothed my tossing stomach hurt, like a dagger to the chest.

He paused at the doorway, his eyes filled with compassion as he held my bags.

"I can't believe it. You're pregnant," he murmured, shaking his head. "It'll work out, okay? Let's just get to Romania and worry about what's next then."

I nodded woodenly, though I wasn't sure I believed it yet.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Ice water ran in my veins as a second figure stepped into the doorway.

A very pissed-off, towering, snarling male.

Gael.

Oh, fuck .

Thank you so much for reading Fated to the Feral Wolf! Leigh and Gael's story is book three, Fated to the Warrior Wolf!

I. Am. Dying. For you guys to see what happens next, for Bri and Shay as well as Leigh! Gael is all alpha, super protective hero. But Leigh's stubborn, and they've got a lot to work through. It's sparks around the clock!