Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

EMLYN

" M y boobs are sore," Haley complained, wrapping her arms around me from behind and resting her head between my shoulder blades. "Ugh, even this hurts. I swear, she's like a fucking vampire. Are babies supposed to have teeth that sharp?"

I suppressed a laugh, setting aside the baking dish I'd been washing so I could squeeze her arm. "She's a demon, Hales."

"She's a piranha," Haley muttered, and I couldn't hold back my laugh this time. "Hey! You're my mate; you're supposed to be sympathetic."

I dried my hands and turned in her arms, brushing a lock of pink hair from her beautiful face. It hit me all over again how lucky I was to have her when I almost lost her—

But I hadn't come close to losing her in years. Confusion pinched my chest at the newness of the feeling, but I was remembering the fight ten years ago, when Locke had almost killed us and Wynvail helped us finally end him.

I slid my fingers into Haley's pink hair and kissed her, long and slow and so deep that the taste of her was seared into my tongue. I only broke for air for a second before fusing my lips to hers again, suddenly frantic.

"Em?" she asked, pulling away and frowning at me. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head, glancing around our bright, clean kitchen, where nothing bad had ever happened. "I get this feeling sometimes that … we're in danger."

Haley squeezed my waist, her eyes gentle on me. "We were hunted for ten years by mercenaries; of course you can't shake off the feeling of being in danger."

"It feels more than that," I admitted, pulling her closer so I could feel her flush against me, the softness of her belly pressing to mine, a reminder that she was fragile and needed to be cared for. Not stressed with abstract feelings of my unease. "It's nothing, just new dad panic."

She rolled onto her tiptoes to kiss me again, lingering long enough that my heart sped. My cock hardened, but I ignored it. My mate just had a baby; whatever my dick wanted, it wasn't happening.

"You're perfect," she told me, brushing my soul so I knew she was deadly serious. "You have nothing to panic about. And we're safe here; no one's come after us since Locke died."

"I know," I agreed, but an ache moved through my skull and—I didn't know why I thought she was wrong. We had been safe since Locke's death, so why did that thought feel insincere inside my mind?