Loved by a Beast - Miranda Bridges Page 0,29
coming inside, their squeals of delight filling the room. Shadow’s purring is like a sound machine, soothing me and pulling me deeper toward slumber. And Jaxar whispers to me, telling me of his undying devotion to me and our family.
In this moment, I’m grateful to not only be alive but be loved.
Chapter 11
A soft cry yanks me from sleep, and I open my eyes to find nothing but near darkness. I sit up, my pulse racing as I swivel my head back and forth. A group of nearly dead embers bathes the space in a weak glow, but it’s enough for me to make out my husband standing near the foot of the bed, holding my son.
“Jaxar.” My throat is dry, and my voice cracks, but there’s still an undertone of hysteria in it. “Let me have him.”
The need to hold my baby almost has me in a panic, but the second the weight of him fills my arms, I relax. Unlike Vivian, who was unable to nurse, I want to try. So I adjust my nightgown and bring my son to my breast, smiling to myself when he latches and drinks eagerly. I know that breastfeeding can be challenging, but even though it’s a little uncomfortable, the feeling is overshadowed by the euphoria coursing through me.
“He’s so intelligent,” Jaxar says, awe mixed with pride coating his tone.
I inwardly smile at the biased comment. “It’s natural for babies to want to nurse. They can smell their mother’s milk and instinctively know it’s her. The whole thing is quite phenomenal actually.” Not wanting to burst his bubble, I’m quick to add, “But I’m sure you’re right. He’s pretty amazing.”
Jaxar leans toward me, and he’s so close that his breath tickles my ear. “I have never known such joy in all my life.”
His deep rumble slides over me and then sinks into my skin, causing it to prickle with awareness. My attraction to Jaxar has never been an issue.
Unfortunately, my trust in him is.
Instead of commenting, I shift my son to my other breast. It doesn’t surprise me he feeds greedily, but guilt does rise at the thought of him being hungry while I slept.
“Did he cry while I was sleeping?” I ask, stroking my son’s fluff of black hair.
Jaxar shakes his head. “He rested the whole time you did, but it hasn’t been very long, so do not fret.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“I know you, Makayla, and I’ve seen how you fuss over Tika. It is not difficult to know you’d do the same for him.”
“What are we going to call you?” I whisper, lightly rubbing my son’s back. “You need a strong name if you’re going to be the Masse of the southern tribe someday.”
“Kharis.”
I glance at Jaxar, my brows gathering. “What is that?”
“It means ‘courageous one.’”
“I like that.” I run my fingers across my son’s cheek, smiling to myself. “Kharis.”
My husband positions himself on the bed next to me, and my joy fades at his nearness. I’m still very upset with him, but everything was kind of put on pause when I went into labor. As of right now, all I care about is seeing to my son and then checking on Tika in the morning. Nothing else. Jaxar and I will eventually have to address and work through the issues between us, but it doesn’t have to be tonight.
“We need to discuss some things, wife.”
Well, shit. I guess it is going to be tonight.
This conversation will be just like ripping off a Band-Aid: it stings like a bitch, you cry, and then you grab another Band-Aid to cover the wound because you realize you’re stupid and it still hurts.
I keep my gaze on my son, not wanting to look at Jaxar. With my emotions ricocheting in my chest, I’m not in the best condition to have a heart-to-heart. But I can’t run and hide forever, so I brace myself for whatever he’s about to say.
“I forgive you for incapacitating me.”
Of its own accord, my head jerks toward Jaxar, and my wide gaze locks onto his.
He exhales, draping his tail over my legs, and I don’t miss the benign show of possession. “I was not being unreasonable when inquiring where you had been,” he says. “In my defense, I was overcome with worry that your life was in danger.”
“You shouldn’t have restrained me in that chair,” I mutter. “That definitely did not help matters whatsoever.”
“Agreed, but it cannot be undone.” His gaze softens as he looks down at Kharis, who