Chapter One
It’s been three months since we left England and began a new journey in the beautiful mountains of Switzerland. Sometimes I wake up and I still have to pinch myself that this is actually real.
Our time here hasn’t been complete bliss. Maria was a complication that we didn’t see coming and although we’ve done our best to avoid her, she still manages to slip in some snide remarks at breakfast or dinner. Thorn was adamant that he wasn’t staying here, that we were going to find somewhere else. After a heated discussion that almost lasted the entire day, I finally convinced him that we couldn’t raise a baby in a cave. He relented on the promise that I wouldn’t go near her or talk to her, which she makes difficult.
He told me about Maria a long time ago, I know that she betrayed him and even plotted with Atticus to survive the war. The wounds are still sore for Thorn despite it being over a century ago but he didn’t punish her for the treachery. He had a powerful connection with her once and though he tries to deny it, I believe there is still something between them.
Maria isn’t even the biggest problem. Ted puts me on edge. I was warned that my scent would attract the attention of unmated men but his staring is borderline stalkerish. Because of the summer heat, I’ve been wearing a lot of cocktail dresses and he always finds a way to sit close to me or creates an excuse to follow me somewhere. I have to close off my mind-reading when he’s near me because all I receive are images of myself naked. He’s a pervert but he isn’t dangerous. Yet. Rachael hardly sleeps with him so he’s getting sexually frustrated, though I haven’t told Thorn that.
We mainly keep out of their way and are trying to focus on the new arrival whom will be here soon. The months have flown by and I’m still as unprepared as the moment I found out that I was pregnant. My stomach is now a wrecking ball of solid flesh and I’m finding it more difficult to do the simplest of tasks. Thorn turned the spare room of our apartment floor into a nursery. He built a crib out of wood with his bare hands and a rocking chair for the corner, he called it the ‘breast-feeding chair.’
We’re walking into the nearby town today to pick up some extra baby stuff with the money that Malachi exchanged for us. We don’t have a lot but every last penny we brought with us is being spent on the baby.
The small town is very secluded and only has the bare essentials. One of the best things about being a werewolf is that we don’t need to buy food and water. We have fresh springs on our doorstep and an entire mountain filled with animals that Ted and Thorn take turns hunting.
Babies are different. They require a lot of care that we can’t find in the wilderness. We might have to rely on shops for a while.
This country is strange. I have grown up surrounded by the parallels of high-born vs low-born societies but here it’s hard to tell which is which. The people seem happy and ordinary. They wear clothes that is a mix between rich and poor, clothes like dresses and demin shorts. I can’t yet work it out.
We enter the small shop and I grab a basket that Thorn instantly takes from me. He does this often. Yesterday he saw me carrying a barrel of water and I thought he was going to have a stroke.
“How about these?” he says, pointing to a pack of diapers.
“We need newborn.”
He squints at the words on the packet. “You can read it?”
“Yes, I’m fluent in French.”
“Since when?”
“Always,” I sigh. “I have told you this.”
“I thought you knew a few words in French. I didn’t realize you knew the entire language. What else are you fluent in?”
“Spanish, Italian, German and a little bit of Polish but my teacher was so hot that I couldn’t really concentrate.”
Thorn glares at me and I smirk.
“High-born education really pays off,” he says. “Why would you learn other languages when international travel is forbidden? It’s like dangling a fish in front of Luna and then eating it.”
I laugh, throwing four packs of the diapers into the basket. “It was just a part of my education. I haven’t spoken French in years, I didn’t think I’d still understand it.”
“I’m learning something new about you every day,” he says, wrapping his hand around my waist.
“It’s not new,” I groan.
“What else do we need?”
I point to the far wall. “Breast pump.”
Thorn walks over and picks one up, observing the box carefully. Another pregnant woman walks to his side and observes him staring at it. She starts laughing and turns to me.
“He looks just as confused as my husband,” she says in French.
“He’ll work it out,” I reply back. “One day.”
The woman chuckles and walks away. Thorn narrows his eyes at me. “What are you saying about me?”
“Nothing.”
“So this. . . this pumps breast milk?”
I nod slowly. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“So you can feed him too. We need bottles.” I bite on my nail as I walk to the next aisle. I grab a few bottles and I drop them into the basket, along with a tub of formula, just in case.
I walk around the entire store, grabbing essential after essential while Thorn remains quiet and confused. He eventually just gives up looking with me and stands in a corner, waiting for me to finish on my own. I didn’t mean to take over but we’d be here all day if I asked for his input.
“We’re done,” I say, placing a cuddly bear on top of the basket.
He starts grinning. “You’ve forgotten something.”
“Have I?” I look through all the items, becoming frustrated. “I don’t think I have.”
“Something pretty important actually.” He cocks his head sideways, smirking arrogantly.
“Thorn.”
“Is he spending the first few days of his life in a diaper?”
I rub my head, laughing to myself. “Baby grows. I forgot that we need to dress him.”
We pick out some extremely cute and soft sleepsuits, along with bibs that I’ve also forgotten, and we finally approach the counter. Thorn starts counting out the notes in his hand but I’m more focused on the bookshelf behind the employee.
“Do you have any books for first time parents?” I ask the woman in French.
“They’re all for first time parents,” she says.
“But there’s so many,” I say, swiping my eyes over the multiple titles. There’s a book for everything. For the labour, to get them to sleep, to feed them, to monitor their development. I point to three that are in English and she takes them off the shelf. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Thorn repeats.
We leave the store with four brimful bags that Thorn carries. I try to take one from him but he growls at me. I begin reading one of the books as we walk down the street, only to pause as the door to an ice cream shop opens. Just one whiff of a mint chocolate chip and I am closing the book and dragging Thorn inside.
“Just because you’re pregnant doesn’t mean you get everything you want,” he whispers.
“Shut up and buy me an ice cream,” I say, bouncing with excitement. “I want that one.”
“Fine.”
I’ve been craving mint all week. Mint anything, but ice cream will definitely do the trick. We walk back to the mountain and I chomp on my ice cream happily. It doesn’t take much to make me happy these days. I’ve almost convinced myself that it could actually last.
We’ve spoken often about finding our own place and moving out of the villa but Thorn doesn’t want me to be exposed to any stress while I’m still pregnant. At the moment, things are simple and calm and once the baby is born, we can start looking for a more permanent home.
I’ve met with Sky once a month at the river near the border but I’m too pregnant to walk that far now. I can just about make it to the town without collapsing. I’m supposed to be meeting her tomorrow and Thorn knows that I can’t make it, unless he helps. I bring it up shyly, knowing that he’s probably going to turn it into an issue.
“The baby will be born in a few weeks. Can you really not go that long without seeing her?”
“I need to see her, Thorn. You know that.”
“Fine. I’ll carry you.”
“Thank you,” I say, leaning my head into his shoulder. “You’re the best.”
“Mm-hm.”
I curl forwards as a thump bashes into my stomach. I’ve never felt one before and it takes me by surprise.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Thorn drops the bags and curls his hand around my shoulder.
“He’s kicking,” I say.
“He is?”
“Put your hand here.” I move it around my bump and I lay his hand flat against the sudden and sharp movements. “There.”
“I feel it,” he says, dropping to his knees. “Is it weird?”
I nod my head.
“How does it feel?”
“Like I’m being kicked.”
He laughs and lifts up my dress, passing it to me to hold. His hands fold around my bulging stomach and he places his ear to it. I often feel the baby move but it annoys me that I can’t hear him and Thorn can. Sometimes when I’m in complete silence I can hear his heartbeat, but hearing him move is an amazing sensation that always makes Thorn flinch.
“I love you,” Thorn whispers, pressing his lips against my skin.
“I love you too,” I say.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Neither was I.”
He smiles, looking up. “I guess I love you as well.”
I place my finger underneath his chin and I push up until he’s back to his feet. Our eyes lock and I can’t contain my excitement. We kiss each other passionately and his hand slips beneath my underwear. I spread my legs wider and he bites into my throat as his fingers enter me. I pant breathlessly, my body becoming hotter and wetter. He’s gotten better at accommodating for the bump, he hardly touches it and when he does it’s with gentle brushes.
I lose myself into him. I can never get enough of him. Things might change once the baby comes so for now, we are appreciating every second we have to pleasure each other. My nails scratch into his back, becoming semi-claws that are still prone to releasing when I’m aroused. I can’t control it and I can’t stop it. The Lycan part of me is tied more to my sexual needs than my wolf ones. I don’t know how long that will last or if I even care. It feels good in a way—like I’m becoming my true self, but the sane part of my brain is reminding myself that just one bite and I could turn Thorn into something more terrifying.
I need to be more careful but I also don’t know how to not have sex with him. It’s wired into our DNA, the mating bond echoes through our bones at all hours of the day, whispering steamy desires until we’re together again. The pregnancy isn’t helping. It’s making me crazy with lust. I’m always horny and Thorn doesn’t complain with fulfilling my needs. I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve dragged him away from the villa and into a nearby cave.
We’re both slaves to this bond, to each other. Every need is met, every desire is reality and every inch of his tanned, scarred skin is mine.
My face is beaming after it’s over and he always has this smug look on his, like he knows that he’s sent me to heaven and back within a few minutes.
“You’re a bad influence,” I say.
“I’m your only influence.”
“How do you always know when I’m horny?”
He laughs as he picks up the bags. “It’s a gift.”
“Well. . . thank you.” I smile as I touch my lip. “It was a pretty great gift.”
We walk for a little distance until we hear the sound of human vibrations approaching us from the stream that we need to cross. We usually encounter humans all the time around here, many of them live in cabins and herd sheep up the mountain. We’ve grown used to familiar faces but the group of four men that are stumbling towards us drunk have a sinister aura that makes me nervous.
Any sane person would turn around or walk in a different direction but Thorn isn’t sane and most of the time I question if he’s actually a person. The men begin spreading out, circling us with intimidation goals, and are fixated on the bags in his hands.
“What you got there?” a man asks in French.
“Whatever it is, it’s ours.”
“Sorry, I don’t understand pests,” Thorn says.
“You speak English in a strange voice,” the man says. “You’re not welcome here.”
Another man points at me, his lips smiling darkly. “She can stay.”
“If you speak English then understand this: move the fuck out of our way or I’ll make you.”
They laugh of course. I see one of them reach into his pants and he extracts a knife. This isn’t going to end well, for them.
“Thorn.” I pull on his wrist until he twists back. “We can’t draw attention this close to the villa.”
“But-”
“No,” I whisper, eyeing him intensely. “No killing.”
“Fine,” he mutters. “Take these.”
He drops the bags into my hands and I look down at the ground as I hear him approach them. He goes for the one with the knife first. He disarms the weapon as the man attempts to stab him and he sticks it into his leg. The man screams and hits the floor. The other three run at him and Thorn grabs one of their throats, throwing him against a tree. I hear a bone break. The other two are big and bulky but their strength doesn’t come close to his. All four of them are unconscious within a minute.
“Happy?” Thorn says as he takes the bags back from me. “You’re making me soft.”
“I’m sorry that it’s so terribly difficult for you to not kill someone but they’re human and thugs still exist whether we like it or not.”
He walks away angrily. “Yeah, yeah.”
I follow him along the pathway to the stream, neither of us look back at the mess we’ve made. They’ll probably wake up in a couple of hours with one hell of a migraine but at least we’ll be safe from the army of angry locals that would have stormed the mountain to avenge their deaths.
We can’t control the bad in the world, it could be around any corner we turn. All we can do is prepare ourselves for it. Because one way or another, it’s coming.
