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For now, I choose to have faith that Maxim and I will find a way to work together. I have to believe that he will respect my boundaries and see that rushing into having a baby isn’t the answer to this problem.
The more I mull it over, the more terrifying the thought of getting pregnant becomes. I’m already small and relatively powerless, and I feel like I’m walking a razor’s edge between tenuous safety and certain doom.
I’m in no position to protect myself, let alone a child.
And there’s a chance I wouldn’t be able to shift once I conceive. Some women can, some can’t, and there’s no way of knowing which you are until you’re knocked up for the first time.
If I couldn’t shift…
If I were trapped in my vulnerable, awkward, pregnant human body while the people hunting me are free to embrace every physical advantage, from their superior size and strength to their teeth and claws….
I shudder, just imagining the scenario is enough to make my stomach turn to stone.
I can’t do that to myself or my baby.
I can’t, and I won’t.
As I dress for dinner in a simple black dress and black ballet flats, I work on building up my resistance to my fated mate. I can’t afford a single misstep and sleeping with Maxim before the wedding would be a massive one. Once we’re married, he won’t be able to kick me out to sink or swim on my own. He’ll have to keep me around and, given time, I’m certain I can make him understand why I lied about how far things went when Pax attacked me.
And by then, he might be so busy fighting his brother’s army that learning his wife lied about being a virgin might not seem like such a big deal in comparison.
“Not a good thing to hope for,” I remind myself as I fetch my peace offering from the top of Diana’s stove and follow the guard sent to fetch me toward the elevators.
I don’t want things to go badly for this pack.
I want to find a solution to the current insanity and bring peace to the shifter world. Given how many people seem to believe in the prophecy, Maxim and I might actually be able to make significant strides in that direction. So often, it seems like the most important ingredient for change is enough people believing it’s possible.
I’m not sure what I think about the prophecy, but I absolutely believe things can change for the better. We can take back The Parallel from the violent packs, protect the weaker shifters who’ve been brutalized for so long, and work toward building a culture that respects and protects all its people.
I have hope.
Then the elevator stops on one of the top floors, opening to reveal a sun-drenched patio filled with trees and flowers, and my hope shines a little brighter. And then I see him—my fiancé—seated at a table with a view of the entire city spread out behind him, looking pensive, but so beautiful and familiar that I can’t help myself…
I find myself hoping even harder.
Hoping for…us.
Chapter Sixteen
Maxim
I shift my gaze to see Willow walking toward me from the elevator bank, the sunlight catching her hair, bringing out the auburn in her dark brown curls.
She’s wearing a dress that shows off her curves, carrying a small glass pan, and…smiling.
Like she’s actually happy to see me.
She’s so beautiful, and that smile so damned sweet and hopeful, that for a moment, my heart stops. It just…stops, holding its breath and its beating, waiting to see what I’m going to do next.
Am I going to rethink this before I ruin any chance of happiness with this woman I don’t want to live without?
Or will I stick to my guns and ignore the twist in my gut that insists this isn’t right, no matter how much is on the line?
It doesn’t matter if it’s right or wrong. If you don’t save this pack, you won’t have a future, and neither will Willow.
You can’t live ‘happily ever after’ when you’re both dead.
The inner voice is right.
