26. Holden

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

HOLDEN

Driving back from town, the pregnancy test in hand felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. My heart pounded, and I couldn't wipe the ridiculous grin off my face even if I tried. This was it—the next step. The step Mylo and I had both been too nervous to say out loud but equally desperate to take. I'd considered asking Bishop to run the test, but Mylo wanted us to find out for ourselves first. Just us. And that's exactly what I wanted too—this moment, the possibility, just for us.

When I opened the door to our cabin, the smell of something incredible hit me immediately. My mate was in the kitchen, cooking—a sight that always made my chest feel too full, like it was hard to breathe because of how lucky I was. He had his back to me, a dish towel slung over his shoulder, humming under his breath as he plated whatever masterpiece he'd whipped up this morning.

"You're just in time," he called over his shoulder without turning around, but I could hear the smile in his voice. "Sit your butt down—breakfast is ready."

I closed the door behind me, my smile widening as I held up the small pharmacy bag. "Got it," I said. Mylo turned, his eyes landing on the bag in my hand. For a second, something flashed in his expression—nervousness, excitement, hope—and then he nodded and drew in a deep breath.

"Great," he said, his voice steady even though I caught the slight tremble in his fingers. He reached for the bag, his gaze meeting mine. "You eat. I'll take this."

I hesitated, my eyes searching his, but then I nodded, pressing the bag into his hands. "Alright. I'll eat," I said, though I wasn't sure I could stomach anything with the nerves tying knots in my gut. But Mylo gave me that look—the one that said I better do as he said—and I smiled, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

I loved that look. It made everything feel so real, so normal—like we were a couple through and through. And I knew we were. He'd moved into my house, wore my mark, but these small moments? They were the ones that reinforced it.

"I'll be right back," he murmured, and I watched him disappear down the hallway, the bathroom door clicking shut behind him.

I sighed, turning to the table. Mylo had gone all out—French toast dusted with powdered sugar, fresh berries, and whipped cream. Eggs cooked perfectly, bacon crisp but not too crispy. He'd even made fresh-squeezed orange juice. My heart twisted, and I sat down, picking up my fork. I took a bite, the flavors bursting on my tongue, but I barely tasted it—my mind was still on Mylo, on the test, on what this could mean for us.

Minutes felt like hours, the clock ticking loud in the quiet room. I was halfway through my plate when I heard the bathroom door open. My head snapped up, my heart in my throat as Mylo walked back into the kitchen, holding the test in his hand. His eyes met mine, and for a second, he just stood there, staring.

"Well?" I asked, my voice coming out rougher than I intended. Mylo's lips curved into a soft smile—then widened until he was practically beaming.

"It's positive," he whispered, like he couldn't believe it himself.

For a moment, I couldn't breathe. I just stared at him, my chest so full it might burst. And then I was up, crossing the room in two long strides, pulling him into my arms. He laughed, the sound muffled against my chest as I held him, my hand cradling the back of his head.

"We're having a baby?" I whispered, my voice breaking.

Mylo pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes shining. "Yeah," he breathed, his smile so bright it made my heart ache. "We're having a baby."

I kissed him, my lips crashing against his, and he kissed me back, his fingers curling into my shirt, holding me close. This was real. This was happening. Mylo was carrying my baby—our baby—and I'd never been so damn happy in my life.

When we finally pulled apart, Mylo was still smiling, his eyes searching mine. "I can't believe this," he whispered, voice thick with emotion. "I've dreamed about this, you know? About having a family. And now..."

I cupped his face, my thumbs brushing over his cheeks. "Now it's real," I said, my voice steady. "And I'm going to be here every step of the way. I promise, Mylo. You and our baby—you're my everything."

His eyes filled with tears, and he nodded, leaning into my touch. "I love you, Holden."

"I love you too," I whispered, meaning it with every fiber of my being.

Later that day, we drove to see Hope and Noah. Mylo insisted we tell them first, and honestly, there was no one else I'd rather share the news with. Noah had been up and about for a few days, recovering faster than any human could—one of the perks of being a shifter, I supposed. But seeing him standing there, grinning as he opened the door, made relief wash over me all over again.

"Look who decided to drop by," Noah said, stepping aside to let us in. He gave Mylo a once-over, his eyes narrowing playfully. "You look like you're glowing. What's going on with you two?"

Mylo glanced at me, his eyes twinkling, and I nodded. He turned back to Noah, his smile widening.

"We're having a baby," he said, his voice full of joy.

Noah's eyes widened, and then he let out a whoop, pulling Mylo into a hug. "That's amazing!" he said, voice muffled against Mylo's shoulder. He pulled back, looking at me with a grin. "Congrats, man. You're gonna be a dad."

I nodded, my chest tight with emotion. "Yeah," I said, voice rough. "I am."

Hope appeared from the kitchen, her eyes lighting up when she saw us. "What's all the noise about?" she asked, and Noah grinned.

"They're having a baby," he said.

Hope squealed, rushing over to pull Mylo into a hug. "Oh my god, that's amazing!" She pulled back, beaming. "I'm so happy for you two." She turned to me, her expression playful. "I hear you're a bit possessive with that bite of yours, huh? Making sure everyone knows Mylo's off-limits?"

My cheeks heated, and Mylo laughed, his face turning pink. "It's not like that," I muttered, though it totally was.

Hope raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Sure. You're not the only one—Noah was just as bad when he claimed me."

Noah grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist. "What can I say? When you find your mate, you don't want to take any chances."

Mylo rolled his eyes, still smiling. And that smile? It made my heart swell.

Noah laughed, clapping Mylo on the shoulder. "Man, you two are gonna have your hands full."

"Damn right we will," I added, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his temple.

This was it—our future. And I was ready for every single moment of it.

The sun had barely begun to peek over the mountains when I shuffled into the kitchen, the chill of the early morning lingering in the air. Mylo was already there of course, moving around the kitchen with a sense of purpose, his hair was still tousled from sleep and my oversized hoodie was hanging loosely off him. He looked so soft and still a little sleepy, like he could use another hour under the covers—although I'd never say it aloud. I'd learned not to try and get him to slow down the last few months.

I leaned against the doorframe, just watching him for a moment. The gentle sound of eggs cracking, the sizzle of bacon in the pan, the smell of freshly brewed coffee—it all wrapped around me like a hug. Mylo had this way of turning even the most mundane mornings into something that felt special.

Or maybe it was just living with him, waking up with him… it was the day to day of life together.

He turned, catching sight of me, and his face lit up, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Morning, sleepyhead. Coffee's on the counter," he said, nodding toward the steaming pot.

"You're a saint," I muttered, pushing myself off the frame and moving toward the counter. I grabbed a mug from the cabinet, pouring the dark liquid as the warmth seeped into my palms. I took a long sip, sighing as the caffeine worked its magic. "You're up early," I added, eyeing him over the rim of my cup.

He shrugged, flipping a pancake with a practiced ease that made me smile. "Yeah, well, someone's got to keep this place running." He shot me a look, his eyes twinkling. "And that someone is apparently me."

I loved how confident he'd gotten and how much our house felt more like ours now with more of his touches everywhere.

"Hey, I'm not complaining," I said, setting the mug down and slipping behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I could feel the slight bump of his stomach pressing into me—our baby growing, a reminder of the life we were creating together. He smelled like vanilla and something sweet—sugar maybe—and I buried my nose in his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his skin. "I'd eat cereal every morning if it wasn't for you."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he teased, tilting his head slightly giving me more room.

"It is," I replied, my lips brushing against his ear. "Cereal doesn't come with a side of your smile."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're lucky I love you, you know that?"

I hummed, holding him a little tighter. "I'm the luckiest guy alive."

He stilled for a moment, then leaned back into me, his body relaxing against mine. "You're cheesy as hell, you know that?"

"You love it."

"I do," he whispered, almost as if he was admitting a secret. He turned his head, just enough for me to catch the soft look in his eyes before he turned his attention back to the pancakes. "But let go of me before I burn breakfast. You're distracting."

"I thought you liked distractions," I said, my voice low, teasing.

"Yeah, yeah, let go," he muttered, though he couldn't hide the smile on his lips. I let my hands slip away, stepping back to grab my mug and lean against the counter, watching him work.

The kitchen… hell every moment with him, felt like a place outside of time—just Mylo and me, our little routines, our quiet moments. The bacon sizzling, the smell of coffee, Mylo humming some half-forgotten tune as he moved around. This was it, wasn't it? The life I'd always wanted but never thought I'd have.

And almost fucked up.

Mylo paused for a moment, placing a hand on his lower back, wincing slightly. I frowned, setting my mug down. "Back still bothering you?" I asked, my voice laced with concern.

He looked over his shoulder, giving me a small smile. "Yeah, just a little. I swear this kid's using my spine as a punching bag," he said, trying to make light of it, but I could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

I stepped forward, resting a hand gently on his back, rubbing slow circles. "You know you don't have to do all this, right? You could take it easy for once."

He rolled his eyes, though there was a softness there. "I know. But I want to. Besides, I like making breakfast for you. It makes me feel... normal." He shrugged, his hand moving to rest on his belly, a tender look crossing his face. "And I think the little one likes it too. He's been pretty active this morning."

I smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his shoulder. "Well, I think you're both amazing. But promise me you'll rest later, okay?"

He nodded, turning back to the stove. "Yeah, yeah. Now go sit down, breakfast is almost ready."

I moved to the small table in the corner of the room, setting my mug down as I pulled out a chair. He joined me a moment later, setting down a plate stacked with pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs. He sat across from me, his eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, we just looked at each other—no words needed, no explanations.

"Thanks for this," I said, my voice softer now.

He shrugged, but I could see the emotion in his eyes. "Anytime, babe."

And I knew he meant it—not just breakfast, but everything. This life we were building, this love we were nurturing. It wasn't always perfect, but it was ours, and that was enough for me.

As we ate, Mylo winced again, his hand going to his belly. I reached across the table, covering his hand with mine. "You okay?"

He nodded, giving me a small smile. "Yeah. Just a kick. A strong one." He laughed, shaking his head. "I swear, this kid's gonna be a linebacker or something."

I chuckled, squeezing his hand gently. "Well, he's got your determination, that's for sure."

He smiled, his eyes softening as he looked at me. "And your stubbornness."

"Hey, I take that as a compliment," I said, grinning.

"You would," he replied, rolling his eyes, but there was no hiding the affection in his gaze.

The rest of breakfast passed in a comfortable silence, the kind that only came from knowing someone inside and out, from loving them through every high and low. And as I watched him, his hand resting on his belly, a soft smile on his lips…I couldn't imagine a better moment… until the next one with him