“Are you still not interested?” he asked her as he looked into her eyes, his wolf glowing back at her. Jen felt her own wolf respond and when her she-wolf joined the party, her other senses suddenly joined as well. Decebel’s scent hit her like a freight train. His pheromones danced around her, coaxing her to respond. Had she been in her wolf form, she would totally have been rubbing up against him shamelessly. “Hussy,” she huffed at her wolf. Mate, mine, her wolf growled back.

“Your wolf definitely smells interested,” he added with a grin.

“Quit sniffing my wolf,” she said, intending the rebuke to come out with a little bite. Instead it was breathy and pathetically lustful. She should just give in and admit defeat. She could deny it all in the morning and then make him build two doghouses and a playhouse for when Thia is older. Jen snickered to herself. Yes, having leverage was nice. Then again, having an attentive lover for a mate was even nicer.

So she gave in and pulled his face to hers, kissing him just like she knew he liked it—little nips, in-between open mouths and dancing tongues. She heard him groan but that was the last truly coherent moment as clothes came off in a blur and whispered words followed hungry lips and hands.

“Decebel,” she breathed out as he pressed his lips to her stomach.

He grunted his response.

“You’re still going to be building those doghouses tomorrow.” She wasn’t about to let him think she’d caved just because she’d allowed him to seduce her.

“Jennifer, shut up and let me love you,” was his growled reply.

And when his mouth started doing what it did best, she did shut up—at least about the doghouses.

Decebel stared at his sleeping mate. He’d propped himself up on his arm and leaned over her, creating a shelter around her body. Her face was relaxed, serene even. There was only one other time that Decebel could classify his mate as looking serene and that was when she was holding their beautiful daughter, who was currently asleep in her own bed in the room just beside theirs. Decebel had been surprised when Jen had announced that it was time for their five-month-old daughter to move to her own room. When he’d asked why, especially since she was still nursing, Jen’s response had come with a wicked gleam, because mama wants to play with daddy and playing with daddy when Thia is in the room feels like I’m giving her an education she is way, way too young for. So, they’d moved Thia into her own room, and he had to admit, it was nice having their space back. He absolutely adored his daughter, but he needed alone time with the child’s mother, just as much as Jen needed alone time with him. He smiled as he gently pushed his mate’s hair over her shoulder revealing the mark his bite left. Such a small thing, and yet, every time he saw it, emotions swelled inside of him.

She was his—his mate, his wife—and together they’d made a child. If someone had told him a year and a half ago that by now he’d be mated and a father, he’d have laughed. Decebel was pretty sure that no male of his race truly believed there was a true mate out there for him until he actually met her. It was as though they were a myth, a fairy tale that their parents told them to help them deal with the growing darkness inside of them. He thanked the Great Luna that true mates weren’t myth, but real and priceless.

She stirred but didn’t wake up. He needed to sleep, especially since he was going to be building doghouses for a dog they didn’t have, all the while trying to dodge Jen’s attempts at getting through the barrier in his mind. He dreaded the moment when he’d have to tell her about the children and how they’d died. He knew his fierce Alpha female would be out for blood. If she could, she would single-handedly kill every vampire on earth for touching one child, let alone eighteen or more. He dreaded telling her because he knew that she was going to want to be involved in whatever plan he and Vasile formulated. He’d try to play the Thia card, and it might work, but even if it did, he knew he’d be sleeping in one of the doghouses she wanted him to build. Decebel decided then that he’d better make at least one of them big and comfortable.

Fane was sound asleep as Jacque stood staring out of the window into the cold night air. Spring was only a couple months away and she was ready for the warmer weather. She was ready to see flowers bloom and green things grow. Winter was beautiful, but for some reason it seemed ominous to her as she stared out at the snow. She heard the sheets ruffle and turned to see if her mate had woken up, but he was still asleep. Jacque had considered pushing his butt out of the bed after the argument they’d had, especially since he’d simply rolled over and nodded off like they hadn’t just had it out.

She’d asked him repeatedly why he was blocking his thoughts from her. Jacque felt as though she had a pretty good reason to be freaked out by his mental wall, considering they’d recently endured months of mental separation. Jacque had been tortured by Desdemona’s curse, and Fane had lived every second of it as if it were real. His resulting anger had caused him to shut her out completely, leading to his own internal turmoil. He had repeatedly told her that this had nothing to do with the hell he had gone through, but it was hard for Jacque to take him at his word. Of course then he pulled out the you don’t trust me card and also reminded her of the fact that only a couple months ago she’d tried to convince the Fates to change her past. She’d thought that if Fane had never met her, then he would have avoided his suffering entirely. Yes, that had not been one of her brighter ideas. What was she supposed to say to that? Well, what she did say was something along the lines of, damn right I don’t trust you, not when you’re blocking me from your mind and attempting to placate me by practically patting me on the head and telling me to run along. And she might have also pointed out that they were talking about his actions, not hers. Fane hadn’t taken too kindly to her heated comments. It was at that point that he had informed her that there was no point in continuing to argue about it and they should just go to bed. He’d rolled over and that was that.

So here she was, wide awake, out of bed, unable to sleep after their argument. Jacque pressed her hand to her nearly eight-month pregnant stomach and smiled as she felt their baby kick. There wasn’t much she liked about being pregnant, but feeling their child move was one of the few things she treasured. She found herself wondering what he or she would look like. Would the baby have her red hair and Fane’s blue eyes? Or maybe her green eyes and his dark hair. Jacque got so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t hear her mate approach. She jumped when strong arms wrapped around her settling on her stomach where their child grew. He pulled her into his warm chest and she wanted to kick herself for being so easily affected by him when she was still upset with him.