Page 64 of Betrayed Knocked-Up Mate

"God knows where you’d be without her." I turn my camera toward where several younger pack members are very obviously trying to catch his attention. “Maybe you should go seek out herprotectionright about now, brother-mine.”

His ears redden slightly. "Don't start."

"Wouldn't dream of it." But I can't resist taking a few shots of his flustered expression for future blackmail material.

Movement catches my eye as Marcus extracts himself from his conversation with Aris, making his way toward us with that fluid grace that still makes my heart race. Rafael straightens slightly beside me, and I have to bite back a smile at his instinctive big-brother posturing.

"Duty calls," he says dryly.

I swat at him as he retreats, but my attention is already caught by the way Marcus's eyes darken as he approaches. The mate bond hums between us, strong and sure, carrying echoes of his desire, his pride, his endless wonder at the life we've created.

"Having fun?" He slides his arms around me from behind, one hand splaying possessively across my stomach while the other steadies my camera.

"Mmm." I lean back against his chest, letting his warmth seep into my bones. "Just documenting the rebuilding. These moments matter—they're proof that Kane was wrong about everything. That no matter how much we endure as shifters, we can rely on each other.”

His lips brush my temple tenderly, and warmth shoots up through me in a rush.

"Speaking of documentation..." He reaches into his pocket, producing a familiar-looking envelope. "Got the latest scans from Veronica this morning. Want to see?"

My heart skips as I open the ultrasound images with trembling fingers. Each one shows our child from different angles—tiny hands, the curve of a spine, features becoming more distinct with each passing week.

"Strong heartbeat," Marcus murmurs against my hair. "Healthy development. Everything exactly as it should be."

The simple statement carries worlds of meaning. After everything we've been through, after all the fear and fighting and running, here we are: building the future Kane tried to prevent, stronger together than we ever were apart.

Through my viewfinder, I catch a moment between Elena and a shifter I haven’t yet met—her hand brushing his arm as they laugh at some shared joke, his expression softening in a way I recognize from my own photographs of Marcus. The next generation of bridges being built, of boundaries being crossed, of love proving stronger than fear.

"Your parents would be proud," I say softly, feeling Marcus go still behind me. "Of all of this. Of you."

His arms tighten around me as he buries his face in my neck, breathing in our mingled scents. The bond between us pulses with emotion too big for words—grief and joy, and fierce determination all tangled together.

"They would have loved you," he manages finally. "Would have spoiled our child rotten."

"Still will." I turn in his arms, letting the camera hang forgotten around my neck as I cup his face between my palms. "Through us. Through everything we build here. Through every story I document and every life you protect."

The kiss he gives me tastes like promise. Around us, the pack-and-more gathering continues—voices raised in laughter, bonds strengthening between former strangers, bridges being built one moment at a time.

Through it all, the child beneath my heart dances to the rhythm of two communities becoming one, carrying forward a legacy of love stronger than any weapon Kane could have devised.

And I lift my camera once more, capturing it all through my lens: this moment, this love, this proof that some things are worth fighting for. Worth dying for. Worth living for.

Worth building together, one frame at a time.

I hold my breath and take the shot.

Epilogue - Marcus

From my position on the shore, I watch Camila move through the crowd of yet another gathering with her camera raised, capturing moments that tell our story better than words ever could. Her baby bump is prominent now at five months, drawing proud glances and protective instincts from both teams in equal measure.

The mate bond between us hums with contentment as she photographs Elena teaching advanced surveillance techniques to a group of younger pack members. The former spec ops team has taken to teaching with surprising enthusiasm—sharing skills that blur the lines between human and shifter abilities, proving that strength comes in many forms.

James moves with his old fluid grace as he demonstrates combat techniques, no trace remaining of Kane's serum in his system. Veronica's cure has worked miracles, restoring shifts to packs across three states. The recovery efforts have given everyone purpose, turning old enemies into allies as supernatural communities rebuild together.

My wolf stirs with pride as I survey what we've built here: the seamless integration of both teams, the way boundaries have dissolved between our communities. Former spec ops members chat easily with pack healers about medical techniques. Tactical specialists trade stories with shifter scouts about patrol routes. Even the human members of my team have adapted to pack life with remarkable ease.

"No one's ever managed this level of integration before," Aris observes, materializing beside me with characteristic stealth. "Not even your father got this far."

"He laid the groundwork." I accept the drink he offers, some local craft beer that Thalia's been experimenting with. "We're just building on his foundation."

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