the large jar. She’d turned out to be one of those pregnant chicks that loved pickles. Leave it to her to be typical.
“Do you need help?” Drake started to kneel, holding a full plate and fork.
“You are not about to feed me, babe.” Bethany shook her head. “Pregnancy has not made me an invalid.”
He sighed and set the plate back down. The Great Luna love him, he just wanted to take care of her. “I’ll be outside putting together something that they claim is a sleigh,” he grumbled as he stood. Drake brushed a finger down the side of her cheek before heading out again.
“How long do you think he’ll last this time?” Zara snagged a sandwich from the overflowing cart.
“Z, you want something to ea—” Wadim’s voice came from behind Bethany.
Zara rolled her eyes and then threw her sandwich at him.
“Maybe we should be taking bets on both wolves,” Sally suggested.
Drake’s shoes felt as though they were covered in concrete as he walked away from his mate. His wolf was ticked off. He was ticked off. And the last thing he wanted to do while his mate sat inside having Brax-whatevers was build a bloody sleigh. He closed the door behind him, stepping out into the crisp winter air. It was early afternoon but already the sun was beginning to lower, preparing for the early nights that the season brought. His wolf loved the cold air, especially when it snowed and they could take a romp through it.
He rounded the corner of the house, then stopped and stared at the mess of wood, nails, and possibly duct tape that was attempting to pass as a Christmas sleigh and failing miserably. “Didn’t it come with any instructions?” Drake walked over to the group of males who stood staring at the hapless structure.
“Yes.” Adam sported a wide grin on his face. “The instructions said, ‘Here’s some wood, make it a sleigh.’”
“I’m going to go out on a limb and say those instructions weren’t from a booklet but from a certain female's mouth.” Drake couldn’t help but chuckle as he glanced at Decebel. The beta looked ready to set the sleigh—and he used that term very, very loosely—on fire.
“Adam,” Fane started, but the fae male held up his hands.
“I know you could give me an alpha order, Fane, but don’t do it. Crina’s finally let me close again. She made me swear not to use my magic.”
Drake watched Fane tilt his head up to the sky. He imagined their alpha was praying to the Great Luna to keep from strangling his beta’s mate. Finally, Fane lowered his head and glanced at Costin. “We better have had a damn good reason for dying Thia blue.”
Decebel growled. “What reason could you possibly have to justify that?”
“Your mate?” Wadim asked.
Decebel glared at the historian but then nodded. “Sounds about right.”
The group chuckled, even as they continued to stare at the mess in front of them. They were quiet for several minutes before Drake spoke up. “Anyone else need a drink?”
Their heads turned to him. He could see the sympathy in their eyes, and he didn’t even care. He was exhausted from worrying about his mate and their child. All he wanted to do was protect her, and all she wanted him to do was stay away.
“How about we head to the bar?” Costin suggested. “I haven’t been there in a while. I’ve had one of the single pack males running it for me. He could probably use a break.”
Fane’s eyes narrowed as he looked past Drake and a few of the others standing next to him. Drake turned to see what caused the alpha’s eye to glow. Standing in the large window were eight females, each one giggling and pointing at them.
“Peri will keep an eye on them.” Lucian turned to look at Drake. “If something happens, Adam can have you back to her in a heartbeat.”
“I’ll be back in a little while.” Drake reached out through their bond. “Please try and take it easy and stay off the ladders.”
“I’ll be fine, babe.” Bethany’s voice was filled with laughter. “Go have some fun with the guys. You all look like you could use a break from”— she paused and he felt more humor welling up in her—“well, whatever the heck it is you all were doing.”
Drake’s lips lifted in a small smile. “They said it was a sleigh.”
“Are they drunk?”
“No, apparently Decebel isn’t any better at building sleighs than he is at dog houses.” He