Munro (Immortals After Dark 18)

“You injured no one. The prince and princess were no’ home.”

Of all the buildings. “Demolishing a royal residence in your pack?” She groaned.

“Everyone in our pack will think that’s hilarious, as will Garreth and Lucia. Though none of them will ever let you live it down.”

That sounded like her carnie hunters. She felt a pang, missing them all, but the promise of a new life with this male comforted her.

She surveyed the lovely scene. “So this is Louisiana.” The cypress trees provided cover from the sun. Out on the bayou, the dark water was mirror flat.

Mirror?

She rose and crossed to the shore to peer at her reflection. Her irises were a more vibrant shade, a little too vivid, but maybe she could still pass for a mortal. She stroked the backs of her fingers over one cheek. Her skin had never felt so soft.

She caressed her neck where Munro had bitten her. Though the bite had healed seamlessly, the claiming mark remained, stark against her skin.

Ren pictured her black nails transforming into claws. They did! She concentrated on retracting them, and they receded.

I’m part beast.

Her appearance had stayed much the same, but inside, she was like a combustion engine, awash with power. The girl who once hunted monsters is one.

Munro knelt beside her at the water’s edge. “You’re having regrets.”

She turned to him. “No regrets. I’m happily no longer an organic.”

“Good.” Tension left his shoulders. “My brother brought food. Are you hungry?”

“Starved.” As they started toward an overflowing basket, she asked, “Why is my Instinct warning me about magic again?”

“Will thought you would want your knife with you.”

She hurried over to collect it. The Instinct grew louder when she grasped her familiar weapon and twirled it with a flourish.

“Best take care with that blade. It can knock you unconscious now.”

Her hand-eye coordination had definitely changed. What would her aim be like? Scenting no one around, she took sight of a target and threw. The blade bulleted between the trees flanking the clearing.

Brows drawn, he said, “Give it time. You’ll soon be hitting every bull’s-eye.”

“Oh, Munro”—she pointed to a tree at least a mile away—“this bitch doesn’t miss.” She gave him a cocky wink.

He whistled low.

Showing off was great, but now her blade was too far away for comfort. “Walk with me?” When she took his outstretched hand, she noticed the cuff on his wrist. “What’s that?”

“A contraceptive. My brother brought it with the other, just in case.”

Was that what the two had talked about in Gaelic? She would be learning his language directly. “How long will you wear it?”

“We’ll figure that out together, but I’m thinking for a while. The Accession is here, and the warlocks are an ever-present threat. Not to mention the Møriør. So now is no’ the best time to have bairns.”

At that precise moment, the Instinct whispered a message to her. Breathless seconds passed once more, and the universe turned. Life was funny; life was fluid. And dreams could change in the space of a few missed breaths.

He continued, “Besides, waiting will give you time to work on mastering your beast.”

“But I’ve got this cuff.”

“Birthing a Lykae is fraught. A female needs her beast because the labor is so taxing, even for an immortal. You’d likely chew that cuff off your own arm.”

“So I’ll take it off for childbirth and put it back on afterward.”

He stopped, suddenly looking tired. “That’s no’ quite an option. Balery saw some things in the bones. She texted earlier that the next time your beast fully rises, you will either save yourself from a lifetime of its control, or . . .”

“Or what?”

“You will lose yourself to it. Forever.”

“Oh.” As fascinated as Ren was with her beast, she couldn’t endure an existence as its shadow. She had to make sure it never rose again!

“We’ve got a fork in the road ahead, but let’s make sure it comes far, far down the road, when you have caged your beast completely.” In a firm tone, he said, “We’ll have bairns one day. Just no’ now.”

“You sound very sure of yourself, maybe because of your looong view?”

Confident nod. “Damn straight.”

“So this would probably be a bad time to tell you I’m expecting.”

SIXTY-TWO

“She’s pregnant,” Munro murmured to his brother in Gaelic. They were in the lodge’s kitchen, watching Chloe, Kereny, and the wards settle in for a board game in the den. Monopoly: Lore Edition.

“Come again?”

“The Instinct told her earlier. She’s up the duff. In the pudding club. Up the spout.”

At the news, Ben, whose enhanced Lykae hearing was fully developed, went wide-eyed. Then his face turned a conspicuous shade of red.

Will ran his hand over his neck. “Ballocks. The contraception must’ve failed.”

Munro had already removed the cuff. “No’ necessarily.” Lowering his voice even more, he said, “Before you arrived, we’d . . . begun.”

“Ah. You dribble before you shoot, old man. How’d she take the news?” he asked, only to say, “Never mind. Your lass is beaming.”