Chapter 284 – A Long 2 1/2 Months

Ella

One and a half months later, and I’m gigantic.

Gigantic.

“Five months wolf pregnant,” I mutter, stirring my yogurt with a little silver spoon, “is about thirteen months human pregnant.” Leaning back against my pillows, I raise the spoon to my mouth, but hesitate before taking a bite.

“What?” Sinclair asks, glancing at me from his spot on the bed, where he’s reading some reports on his tablet. “Has it gone sour?”

“No,” I murmur, stabbing the spoon back into the cup. “I’m just afraid if I eat another bite, this baby is going to get even bigger.”

“Good!” Sinclair declares, grinning at my swollen belly and reaching out a fond hand to rub my baby bump. “Let him get big and strong before he’s born, that way he can come out running and we can play football within a week.

“Absolutely not,” I snap, giving him a little glare and hoping to hell that he’s kidding. “I am not growing you a linebacker, Dominic, so get that right out of your head.”

Rafe?” he asks, loud enough for me to hear. I twist my lips and shake my head a little, knowing this is all for my benefit anyway. If he wanted to talk to Rafe,

father’s voice, pressing some extremity – a hand or a foot – across my skin, right where Sinclair’s face is. Sinclair kisses the spot where the baby

honestly like I’ve swallowed a giant watermelon. “Tell

then, his emotions ringing with happiness, but, indeed, with a little …pinched feeling, with the desire to stretch. “See?” I say, raising my eyebrow at Sinclair

sighs, sitting up and giving my belly one last pat. “We’ll see what Cora and Hank say this afternoon at your checkup. Sometimes wolf babies come sooner than

“Really?” I ask, excited.

shrugs. “It’s not

moon goddess…he’ll come fast,

and putting out his hands to help me to my feet. I accept readily and head to the

for the past two weeks, but especially this last one. There’s been some trouble, I know, with human insurgents who are unhappy with how well the peace talks are going. They think that humans are getting the short end of the stick and

my pregnancy. It’s not that it’s not that I’m not enjoying being pregnant – I have loved every minute of feeling my little boy grow stronger inside of me, every little twist and kick, and especially feeling the little messages he sends down our bond to me. He’s gotten so communicative

petite woman, and even though Rafe was little at the start, it’s very clear that he’s Sinclair’s baby now. He is heavy, and he presses on my back, and my ankles are swollen, and I can’t find a comfortable spot when I sleep – even in my

to think about how nice it will be to go back home. I sigh and lean down to pick out

the door, Sinclair is looking towards the closet, his eyebrows raised. “Can you get those?” I ask with a big smile. “I need you to put them

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