Chapter 208
Kara
Each touch sent electricity through our bond, their combined reaction to my initiative flooding my system with warmth that had nothing to do with the heater. I felt their wolves surge forward—not aggressive, but pleased, deeply satisfied by this small act of affection from their mate.
"Thank you," I whispered. "For all of this. For..." I gestured vaguely at the bathroom, the bedroom beyond, the crib that represented a future I was still terrified to hope for. "Everything."
Cole's hand came up to cup my face, his thumb brushing my cheekbone with devastating gentleness. "You don't have to thank us for giving you what you should have had all along."
"We have so much to make up for," Asher added quietly. "This is barely a start."
Blake said nothing, but through our bond I felt the intensity of his emotion—gratitude that I'd accepted this, determination to give me more, and underneath it all, the ever-present fear that it still wouldn't be enough to erase what they'd done.
I wanted to ask them about so many things. Wanted to know exactly what had happened during my captivity—how they'd tracked me, what they'd felt when they couldn't sense me through our bond, whether they'd truly believed I was dead. I wanted to understand the timeline of events that had led them from my disappearance to that basement, wanted to fill in all the gaps in my fractured memory.
But not tonight. Tonight, I was too tired to handle those answers. Too raw to process anything more than the immediate reality: I was here, they were here, and for now, that had to be enough.
"Tomorrow," I said, and saw understanding flash in Asher's eyes. "We'll talk about everything tomorrow. When I'm..." I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. When I was what? Stronger? More stable? Less likely to shatter if they told me something I couldn't handle?
"When you're ready," Cole finished for me. "Whenever that is. We're not going anywhere."
The simple promise shouldn't have meant so much. They were my mates—bound to me by biology and magic and a mark that went soul-deep. Of course they weren't going anywhere. But after a lifetime of people leaving, of being abandoned and forgotten and used, hearing those words felt like a lifeline.
Through our bond, I felt Asher's determination solidify into something like steel. They would wait. They would give me time. They would let me set the pace, even when every instinct they had screamed to claim and possess and never let me out of their sight again.
"Bath?" Blake suggested, his voice rough. "You've been in those clothes for..."
He didn't finish, didn't need to. I looked down at myself—at the designer dress that Diana had forced me into, now torn and stained with blood and dirt and God knew what else. At the scratches on my arms, the bruises blooming purple-black across my skin. At the evidence of everything I'd survived written on my body in shades of violence.
"Yeah," I agreed. "Bath sounds good."
---
But of course, it couldn't be that simple. Nothing with them ever was.
"You should take your time," Asher said, already moving toward the door. "Relax in the tub. We'll just quickly shower and then—"
"Why can't we have sex?" Blake blurted out, and I actually laughed—a startled, slightly hysterical sound that made all three of them freeze.
"Blake," Asher said, his voice dropping into that warning tone that meant shut up before you make this worse.
But Blake was already committed, his frustration bleeding through our bond in waves of sexual tension so thick I could practically taste it. "No, seriously. Why not? She's our mate. We're bonded. The doctor said she was healthy. So why—"
"Because she's pregnant, Blake." Asher turned to face his brother, and I saw the strain in every line of his body—the careful control it took not to give in to the same desperate need that had Blake practically vibrating. "And she hasn't had any prenatal care. None. Zero."
He looked at me then, his ice-blue eyes dark with concern. "We don't even know the exact status of you or the baby right now. Dr. Harrison's examination at the hospital was preliminary at best. You need a full obstetric evaluation before we—"
"If blue balls was an Olympic sport, I'd win gold every fucking time," Blake's thought crashed through our bond, and despite everything, I felt my lips twitch.
"At least in the bath we can take care of her," Cole offered diplomatically. "That's a form of intimacy."
"I know," Blake shot back mentally. "But I want more than just 'taking care of.' I want—"
He cut himself off, but I felt it anyway—the raw, desperate need to claim, to possess, to prove to himself that I was really here, really safe, really his. The wolf in him was going insane with the need to scent-mark me, to cover every inch of my skin with his smell until no one could possibly doubt who I belonged to.
And God help me, part of me wanted it too. Wanted to lose myself in them, to let the physical overwhelm the emotional, to prove that I'd survived by celebrating being alive in the most primal way possible.
But Asher was right. I was exhausted. Traumatized. Pregnant with a baby—babies?—that I hadn't even begun to process. And rushing into sex just because we could felt wrong, like we'd be using physical intimacy to avoid dealing with everything else.
"He's right," I said quietly, and felt Blake's disappointment crash through our bond like a wave. "Not tonight. I'm sorry, I just... I can't."
"Don't apologize," Cole said immediately, moving to my side. "You never have to apologize for setting boundaries. Ever."
Blake made a frustrated sound but nodded, his jaw tight. Through our bond, I felt him wrestling his wolf into submission, felt the effort it took not to just take what every instinct screamed he needed.
"Bath," Asher said firmly. "We help her bathe. That's it. Understood?"
Blake and Cole nodded, but I could feel their reluctance, their wolves pushing against the restraint. And underneath it all, I felt my own traitorous body responding to their nearness, to the promise of their hands on my skin, to the memory of how good it had felt when they'd touched me before.
This was going to be harder than any of us wanted to admit.
---
Blake's fingers traced the line of my shoulder as he helped me out of the ruined dress, and I shivered despite the bathroom's warmth. The fabric had stuck to dried blood in places, and he peeled it away with the kind of careful attention usually reserved for defusing bombs.
"Calix," Cole said suddenly, making us all turn. He was crouched by the tub, testing the water temperature. "What's prenatal care?"
Blake snorted. "Cole, you have issues."
But Asher answered seriously, his voice taking on that professor-like quality he got when explaining something he'd researched thoroughly. "It's preventive medical care for pregnant women. A doctor monitors the mother and fetus's health throughout the pregnancy—blood pressure, weight gain, fetal development, nutritional needs, potential complications. It's essential for ensuring a healthy pregnancy and delivery."
He looked at me, and I saw the worry etched in the lines around his eyes. "Kara hasn't had any of it. We need to get her to an OB specialist first thing tomorrow morning. Maybe even tonight if—"
"Tomorrow," I said firmly. "Tonight I just want to be clean and sleep for about a hundred years."
They helped me into the water—Blake's hands steady on my waist, Cole supporting my elbow, Asher hovering like he expected me to faint at any moment. And maybe I would have, if the warm water hadn't felt so impossibly good against my battered body.