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He shakes his head at me. “So stubborn.”
“Isn’t that what you like about me?”
He presses the mug – which he easily retrieved because of his stupid demon size – to my lips. “One of many.”
I let him help me get a few more bites of food before insisting I’d rather eat later. He doesn’t push it, instead turning to me with bright eyes. “Do you want to go up to the nursery?”
Excitement stirs in my stomach. “We do need to finish decorating.”
Volikan sweeps me up in his arms at that, easily carrying me into the nursery and setting me down in the plush armchair in the corner. I prop my feet up on the plush stool and sigh contently as he moves to the pile of ‘furniture’ in the opposite corner.
He insists that, as a father, his child must have a bed made by him. I’m not quite sure how the splintered wood he’s angrily snapped in half more than once will support our child, but I’m letting him have this one.
Mostly because I already had Laura commission one for when we actually need it.
Volikan is about half an hour into grumbling and angrily snapping when the house starts to shake. I cling tightly to the chair as he jumps up, trying to catch the few pieces we have managed to set up in the nursery.
He stops a gaslamp from shattering but on top of a table too far from him, a toy that he painstakingly crafted – he claims – tumbles to the ground and snaps into three pieces.
“Fuck!” he roars, and it seems to scare away the tremor. The house finally stills.
“Volikan–”
“Stupid fucking bullshit.” He scoops up the toy, scowling at it like he can scare it back into one piece. “Can you believe this?”
“It’s okay. We can just–”
“No! It’s not okay. What if that was our kid, Anastasia?” He whips around, eyes hard and lit with fury. “Would it be okay then? If the bed broke, and something like this–” He shakes the toy angrily. “Happened?”
I sigh, pushing out of the chair – with great difficulty. I don’t point out that the bed he’s trying to build will break if the wind blows. Instead, I pat his arm, staring up at him. “I know you are worried about being a dad–”
“No!” he bites out, but I give him a stern expression. He deflates, his shoulders curving in. “I’m sorry. I just…I’m worried. The tremors are getting worse, and I can’t protect our child from something like this. I want to keep them safe.”
I push up on my toes, hands against his chest as I implore Volikan to meet my eyes. “I know that you are scared, and don’t get me wrong. I love seeing you in dad mode. Unfortunately, there’s not a whole lot we can do in this situation. Most things are out of our control.”
He shakes his head, frustrated. “There is nothing a demon cowers from. Why hasn’t Asmodeus done anything about this? He has the strength!”
I caress his face, trying to soothe him even as worry stirs deep in my gut. I can tell Volikan a million reasons why we will be fine, but I have the same fears. I know that the Mother will protect us and our coming child, that we will survive this. But that doesn’t quiet the voices that I hear, too.
What if we don’t?
That line of thinking isn’t good for either of us, though, and Volikan is only getting more worked up with each passing moment. So I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down to me. “Do you think maybe–”
My attempts at distraction are cut off with a knock at the door. He stiffens, growling under his breath as I call out, “Come in.”
A zonak stands in the doorway. “There is someone here to see you.”
125
VOLIKAN
It’s the last damn thing I need right now!
It’s taking everything in me to hold back as I tremble with rage, and I know that Anastasia can see it. She dismisses the zonak, cupping my face as she tries to soothe me.
“Why don’t you just stay up he–”
“No!”
