"You still talk to me as though I'm a child," she said and sighed. "No one understands Breed Law as well as I, nor can anyone else hear the secrets I hear, yet you continue to speak to me and to act as though I'm still nine."
"Or refusing to do as I ask so I can have a moment alone with my mate," he growled in exasperation.
"Perhaps one of these days someone will find it in them to treat me as an adult,"
she snorted before rising from the bed. "I just thought I should tell you that it will be a girl."
Styx froze before lifting his head slowly and staring back at her in shock. "What did you say?"
"Figure it out." She glared back at him.
He straightened, tensing. "She's going to become pregnant?"
Cassie rolled her eyes. "She's already pregnant, big boy. You and your little mate are about to become yet another scientific wonder. Contact your grandfather, perhaps he can figure out why. And don't worry about mating heat, or the hormones. It's only going to make her more unique."
She turned then and stalked from the bedroom with an air of offended feminine outrage, and he only barely noticed.
His eyes were on his mate. His entire being was concentrated on his mate as he tried to draw in the scent of new life.
And there it was. Subtle, so very new, no more than days.
His hand lifted his fingers to spread over her stomach as he felt his heart clench with such emotion that he truly wasn't certain what he was supposed to do with it.
As he stared down at where his darker palm lay over her pale flesh, he felt the glands beneath his tongue throb once again and the taste of the mating hormone filled his mouth.
The need to share it was driving him damned crazy.
He wanted to bind her to him, possess her in ways that she would never be free of.
He wanted to possess her heart, her soul, the very essence of her feminine spirit.
"Ah, lass, how much more of a miracle could ye be to me?" he whispered as his head lowered, his lips touching hers, though he was careful to hold back the hormone that would strike a quick flame to the arousal that simmered between them whenever they were together.
"Wake up, Sugar," he whispered. "Come tae me, Storme. How am I supposed to exist without you?"
He couldn't exist without her. There was no life, no sense of accomplishment, joy, or freedom if she wasn't by his side.
When she lay unmoving, a sigh slipped past his lips. He would allow her to sleep a bit longer. But until then, he could at least make certain she was clean. Marx and Gena had dragged her hundreds of miles from Haven, to the old, abandoned cabin Storme's parents had once lived in.
In the huge garden tub that sat in his own bathroom Styx ran a half a tub of steaming water before stripping himself and then his mate and carrying her to the bathroom.
He eased into the heated water as he held her against his chest, fighting to hold her gently, to ensure that so much as a single bruise wasn't added to those that already marred her tender flesh.
Using a soft cloth he cleaned her gently, his hands stroking over her, his heat and the water's warming her chilled body. She'd been soaked to the skin from the rain and mud when they'd pulled her into the van.
Hell, they'd nearly run her over as they raced to the cabin behind the single member of Ghost Team who had set out after Marx and Gena despite orders to stay with the rest of the team and protect the alpha wives.
The team member had Styx's undying gratitude. The others had left Storme to her fate because she didn't carry the mating scent, because she hadn't been claimed by a Breed. All but the one who had followed against orders and relayed her location once he caught up with the Coyote and his bitch handler.
After washing and conditioning the long strands of her black hair, Styx emptied the tub as he used the handheld shower to rain the warming caress of the water over her body and keep the chill from her.
As the last lingering grains of dirt washed down the drain, he rinsed them both again before wrapping a large towel around her and carrying her back to the bed.
He laid her on the dry side and hurriedly stripped the blankets that were damp and marred with mud from earlier. Clean, soft sheets and a heavy comforter went on the bed before he finished drying her hair, combed it gently then tucked her beneath the blankets and crawled in with her.
He was so damned hard he could barely stand to breathe with the ache in his balls.
The need to kiss her, to share the mating hormone with her, was so overwhelming he found himself once again brushing his lips against hers.