Sold To The Dragons (A BBW Paranormal Romance Book 1) (18 page)

He'd stopped pacing and now looked over my shoulder to Blake, who was now sitting up beside me. "Are you listening to this? Are you listening to these...these dramatics?"

My blood suddenly boiled so hot I couldn't even speak.

Behind me, Blake cleared his throat. "I'm listening, and believe it or not, I actually think Kira makes some valid points. And I certainly wouldn't consider her expressing her thoughts and feelings to be a display of 'dramatics.'" After a very brief pause, he continued with his voice lowered. "Tread lightly, Steven."

Steven scoffed, tightening his arms over his well-muscled chest. "I should have known we wouldn't ever see eye-to-eye about this. Not sure why I'm the least bit surprised, though I somehow still am, because this is quite an interesting reversal. All our lives, everyone has always said that you're the quieter, more practical, more sensible and cautious brother. Whereas I've always been pegged as the joker, the more impulsive one, the brother who's a bit of a loose cannon. But now look. Who's the cautious one now? Who's the one with safety at the forefront of their mind now? I have to admit that I feel as if I've taken over as oldest. Which is just fine with me. Someone's gotta put the brakes on when it comes to Kira putting herself in a dangerous situation."

My anger had ebbed somewhat, though only somewhat. Not enough that my next words didn't come through gritted teeth.

"
Kira
will decide if she's going to put the brakes on herself when it comes to her putting herself in a
possibly
dangerous situation. And this is because Kira has a brain, and she's not completely stupid, and she's not a child, and she's more than capable of making her own decisions."

Heaving a sigh, Steven unfolded his arms from his chest and sank to his knees by the bedside. "Kira, listen to me. Can I have your hands? Please?"

I wasn't exactly sure that I wanted to give him my hands to hold just then, though I did it anyway. Something about the look of pain now in Steven's deep blue eyes almost forced me to.

He planted a gentle kiss, his mouth firm and warm, on each of my hands in turn before continuing. "You can be angry at me all you want; that's fine. But please just let me tell you something. And try your best to hear me with an open heart. You might even try to see things from my perspective for a second if it suits you.

“But what I want to say is this. Please believe me when I say that I'm not dead-set against you not participating in the fight because I see you as some sort of property or a small child who can't be trusted to make decisions of her own."

Looking deeply into my eyes, he paused for a moment. "My thinking is coming from a place of fear. It's coming from a place of absolute terror, and I'm not too proud to admit it. The thought of anything ever happening to you fills me with dread. Just in case you haven't noticed, I've fallen deeply, deeply in love with you, Kira. To the point that I'm not quite sure how I'm going to deal with it if it's not me who gets you pregnant.

“A thought I can hardly stomach to think about right now. But if that happens, that happens, and as much as it'll rip my heart from my chest, we'll cross that bridge when and if we get there.

“But a thought that fills me with even more dread than that scenario is the thought of losing you by way of something completely avoidable, like you being hurt or worse somehow during the fight. I literally can't stand the thought of you getting hurt. And it just makes me feel like I'll do anything to protect you. Even if that means making you angry with me.

“So, now, please tell me you understand me a little better. Please tell me that you understand my intent. Which isn't to make you feel owned, or controlled, or like you're not a grown adult woman. It's to protect you. It's to keep you safe."

As much as a tiny little part of me wanted to be, I just couldn't be mad at him any longer. The pain and desperation in his dark blue eyes was just too real. It was too convincing. I no longer felt as though he was thinking of me as a possession or child. I knew his thoughts were coming from a place of love, and as he'd said, absolute terror. And I couldn't blame him for the way he felt.

However, I still didn't have to like his decision. I still didn't have to agree with it. And so, on the spur-of-the-moment, I made one of my own. It just came to me. It just felt right. I just felt it deep in my gut.

I gave Steven's hands a light squeeze. "I understand what you're saying, and I love you, too. I don't want to argue with you anymore. I don't want to keep going in circles. So what I suggest is this. You and Blake ask your father to decide whether or not I should be allowed to help in the fight. And then, whatever he says, goes. Whatever he decides, I'll abide by it, even if I don't like it.

“Because I just feel like this needs to be taken out of our hands. We're never going to agree about this. We're never going to come to a compromise because it doesn't seem like there is one. And I just can't argue about this anymore. I just...I can't."

I really couldn't. I was suddenly feeling tired, bone-weary, even, even though I'd had a very good night's sleep.

Steven glanced at Blake over my shoulder and then nodded. "All right. Blake and I will ask our father to make the call. And whatever he decides will be final."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Over the next week or so, I hardly did anything except practice my archery. With hours and hours of daily practice, I was actually getting pretty good. I'd had no more wild misses like I'd had when I'd almost shot Blake. Alec even said that if it were up to him, he'd allow me to participate in the fight with The Destroyers with complete confidence.

"At this point, I wouldn't be the least bit worried about you accidentally hitting one of our own shifters by mistake."

But of course, unfortunately, it wasn't up to Alec to decide if I'd be allowed to participate in the fight; it was up to Tom. Who was taking his sweet time making his decision.

Not that I blamed him. I knew he had many other things on his mind. Just one of them being that some sort of heated verbal fight had broken out among his council members at one of their meetings. Some of them insisted that our side shouldn't wait for The Destroyers to attack us; we should launch an attack on them. Others argued that waiting for them to come to us was actually the wisest plan.

They thought that our home turf, with all our various fortifications around the city, was the best place for the fight to take place. Tom eventually put an end to the disagreement by saying that he'd decided, for various reasons, that we'd wait for The Destroyers to come to us, and that was final. And being that he was as trusted and beloved of a leader as he was, everyone accepted this. Though there was still grumbling from some of his council members, which Blake told me never failed to put him in an irritated mood.

He was also preoccupied with the question of when The Destroyers were going to attack, which was anyone's guess. Spies for our side had been able to confirm plans of an attack, though they'd had to flee before they'd been able to learn exactly when it was to take place. Based on what they'd been able to gather, it would be sooner rather than later.

Tom wasn't the only one with a troubled, preoccupied mind. Ever since they'd tempted me back into lovemaking, or
I'd
tempted them, or whichever, I hadn't stopped sleeping with Blake and Steven. Despite me still not wanting to become pregnant until I was sure that I was worthy of being a mother. Until I was sure I had the bravery required to be a mother. After the night I'd fallen back into bed with Steven and Blake, I just hadn't had it in me to attempt to freeze them out again.

I think I knew in the back of my mind that another freeze-out wouldn't last long. Which maybe vaguely troubled me in and of itself, just the fact that I apparently lacked the strength and fortitude necessary to refuse physical pleasure. However, I supposed that was of much less concern to me than proving to myself that I wasn't a coward when it came to dangerous situations and chances for heroism.

I knew there was a good chance I could become pregnant before I'd proven myself, if I ever did indeed even get the opportunity to do so. I knew it was possible that I could be pregnant even right then. My next expected period was still several days away, though. And I was determined not to try to worry about things until I absolutely had to. Like if I happened to be a day or two late.

Marielle told me several times that I could even have one of the royal doctors administer a pregnancy test a couple of days before my expected period and the test would still be ninety-nine percent accurate. Medical science in Ashcrest was so advanced that doctors could not only determine if a woman was pregnant even a day or two before her missed period, but they could also determine with certainty who the father was simply by testing a drop of the mother's blood. But to be honest, I just wasn't ready for all that yet. I wasn't anywhere near ready, simply because I still had no idea who I
hoped
would be the father of my child, who would also be my eventual husband.

Marielle said it didn't even matter who I hoped would be the father of my baby anyway. "Maybe it's even best that you don't ever hope for one over the other. Do you know what I mean? Then, either way, you won't be disappointed. You'll be happy. And I'm not saying that happiness won't be bittersweet either way, because I'm sure it will be.

“But I'm just saying that might be preferable to deciding who you want to be the father and then getting your hopes dashed. I guess I almost hope you become pregnant before you make up your mind who you
hope
will be the father. I almost think that might be easier on you. To just let fate do what fate will and be content with it."

I had to admit she made some very good points. And after that conversation, which we'd had during a picnic lunch in between archery practice sessions, I tried my very best not to spend any more time wondering and hoping about who the father of my baby would be. I really did try.

But several days later, when I woke up feeling decidedly sick to my stomach, I couldn't help but let my mind wander a little. And once I began to let it wander a little, it actually started to race. I began thinking of dates and specific lovemaking marathons, trying to determine who I might have made love with more, even a bit more, making that man more likely to be the father of my baby.

If I actually even was pregnant, that is. I knew a churning stomach could be caused by a great number of things, not least of all continued anxiety about whether or not Tom was going to allow me to participate in the fight.

Steven and Blake had already left for that morning's council meeting, so after making a cup of tea and having a few nibbles of dry toast, I got in the shower, my mind still spinning off in different directions. Ultimately, while trying to relax under the warm spray of water, I realized it was no use trying to figure out who I might have made love with more. If one brother was in the lead on that account, it would have only been by a single instance or two. I’d just finished dressing when Marielle knocked on the door. After I'd ushered her inside, she immediately began apologizing for showing up late for her maid duties that morning, which I hadn't even been aware that she was. Even though we'd basically just been spending our days practicing archery, she'd still insisted on tidying up my apartment and seeing if there was anything that needed to be done before we set out each day.

However, I really hadn't thought it was necessary, and if she was really a bit late that morning, I really didn't care, and I told her so.

"You really shouldn't ever worry about being 'late' to meet me. I'm glad you're my maid, and you do such a wonderful job, but needless to say, I also consider you a very good friend now. And good friends always understand when the other is running a little behind schedule."

She gave me a smile, making her green eyes twinkle. "Thank you. And needless to say, I consider you a good friend as well." Suddenly frowning, she clutched her stomach. "Oh, and here it comes again...the whole reason I was even running late in the first place."

Immediately concerned, I put a hand on her elbow. "What is it? Are you all right? Do you want to lie down?"

She shook her head, swallowing. "No, and thanks, but I think I'm fine. It already seems to be passing. It was just one of these little rolling waves of nausea I've been getting, just since yesterday. This morning, I experienced one so intense that it made me feel like I couldn't get out of bed for a while."

Suddenly relieved, both for her and myself, I breathed a sigh of relief. "This all makes perfect sense now."

"What does?"

"You feeling a bit under the weather, and me feeling the same way this morning, too. Can't just be a coincidence. And I just realized that we both probably have a touch of food poisoning. Remember a few days ago when we packed those chicken sandwiches for our picnic, but we didn't even have our picnic until hours later than we'd planned to?

“So, we didn't even have the sandwiches packed in ice. Remember how we both even commented that we probably shouldn't even eat them, but we did anyway? And then, a few days later, we're both sick. The timing is just too perfect. Can't be a coincidence. Has to be food poisoning. I actually almost thought I was pregnant for a second."

With her expression unreadable, Marielle studied me for a long moment. "Well, I do remember us talking about the sandwiches, saying how we probably shouldn't eat them. But you know, it's not entirely out of the realm of possibility that you could still actually be pregnant. It's not entirely out of the realm of possibility that I could even be pregnant again, though five years after having Ava...well, if anyone's pregnant, my money's on you."

Suddenly a bit dizzy, as well as a bit nauseous again, I suggested that maybe we grab a cup of tea in the kitchen, and Marielle readily agreed.

A few minutes later, we sat at the kitchen table with steaming mugs of pumpkin spice tea, which would have been perfect for the chilly October day. Except I could now hardly stomach to take a sip of mine, despite the fact that I'd drained a mug of the same earlier that morning with no problems. Outside, beyond the windows, large gray clouds floated across the sky.

Marielle, who'd seemed to recover from her nausea attack, took a few sips of tea and then set her mug back on the table. "I don't think you're sick, Kira. And it's kind of funny, because I'm really not too sure about myself, but the more I look at you here today, the more certain I'm sure that you don't have any kind of food poisoning."

My stomach rolled again, and I swallowed a bitter taste in the back of my throat.

"How do you figure, though? How can you tell?"

She gave her head a brief little shake. "Not sure. I'm really not sure. I just have a feeling, I guess. Not to mention that you
have
been found to be fertile, and you
have
been spending an awful lot of time with two very handsome men lately."

Her green eyes twinkled, and I couldn't help but give her a little smile.

"Well, true, but...if what you think is correct...I'm just not sure I'm ready for this."

She, herself, was actually stifling a chuckle. "Well, of course you're not. Nobody ever really is. Even women who want to be pregnant very badly, which, as you know, is nearly everyone these days, still aren't quite fully prepared for that moment when they hear the news and it all becomes real. It's just simply stunning, in a word. It's just the certainty of knowing, and the surprise that comes along with that, even if you've been getting little clues. Which I think you've definitely had this morning."

I managed to take a sip of my tea, my queasiness easing slightly. "You really think I could be pregnant this soon, though? Just on my second month of trying?"

"Absolutely, completely possible."

I took another sip of tea, thinking, before setting the mug down. "I had nearly three glasses of champagne one night not too long ago. And I've had a glass or two of wine since then. Which I guess was maybe dumb. Though Steven and Blake certainly didn't slow me down."

"And no need for them to have. A few drinks here and there before you know you're pregnant isn't going to harm your baby in any way, shape or form. I remember I had several glasses of wine one memorable night a few days before I found out I was expecting Ava. So I'm sure your baby will be just fine."

Your baby
. The words echoed in my mind. And for some reason, my eyes suddenly became just a bit misty, though I blinked the tears back.

"I'm sure I don't even need to say it, because you already know, but I guess I was just really hoping that I'd get the chance to prove myself as a strong, brave woman before becoming a mom. Even if I'm only proving it to myself. I guess I just wanted to be certain that I'm someone my child can be proud of before welcoming them into the world."

Marielle bit back a chuckle. "You act as if you'll be giving birth tomorrow. And trust me, if you
are
pregnant, this will seem funny to you later. Right around the end of month eight or so, when you'll feel as if you've been pregnant for decades. So, there's still plenty of time for you to prove whatever you need to. Tom still hasn't said yes or no yet; The Destroyers still haven't attacked; and we don't even know for absolute certain that you're pregnant. And since the last of those things is the only thing we can do anything about, I'd say we take action there.

“I think we should skip the archery practice today, which we'd probably have to do anyway since it looks like rain, and visit the royal medical clinic instead. I may even want to pay a visit to my own doctor on that floor while we're at it. That way, we can both get the definitive answers I think we both need right now. Since the medical science is there, why not take advantage? Why condemn ourselves to several days of wondering?"