Page 92 of Possession

“Hunter,” she whispers, her voice fragile but filled with more emotion than I’ve ever heard from her before.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” I say, crossing the room in three strides.

Lars lifts his head, his expression softening with a look of palpable relief.

“Thank you, Lars,” I say earnestly.

He stands, stretching his arms. “I’ll be right outside.”

The look I give him is sharp, a silent warning I’ve given him a dozen times before.Don’t let your guard down.He nods and steps out without another word. I know he’ll stay by the door like a sentry, ready to act if anything—or anyone—threatens her.

Before I can say anything else, my lips cover Megan’s in a possessive kiss I’m not sure which one of us needs more.

Afterward, I lay my hand on Megan’s swollen belly. Her warmth grounds me, but the sight of her hooked up to a monitor twists something deep in my gut.

“Are you okay?”

“I am now.” She smiles.

“No, but really.”

“They’ve given me an epidural,” she explains, her voice steady but tired. “For the pain. They’re keeping an eye on me because I was bleeding earlier.”

“Bleeding?” My voice rises, my chest tightening.

“It was frightening,” she admits, “but the doctor said it wasn’t dangerous.”

“And the baby?”

“Your future little badass wants to join us tonight,” she says with a small smile. “But I’m not dilated enough to start pushing yet.”

“So I didn’t miss anything?”

Her smile softens into something more intimate, more profound. “No. You’re right on time.”

The tenderness of her words barely has time to sink in before her face contorts with discomfort. I’m at her side in an instant, leaning over her, searching for a way to help. I desperately wantto take her pain away, but in this circumstance, I detest how helpless I am.

“I thought you were on pain meds,” I say, brushing a strand of damp hair from her forehead. Her curls have been styled into two long braids with a middle part, making her appear even younger than she is.

“It’s not pain exactly,” she says through gritted teeth. “More like pressure.”

“I’ll get the doctor.”

Her hand shoots out, grabbing mine. “No, don’t leave!”

“I won’t.” I press a kiss to her forehead, guilt gnawing at me for not being here sooner. “Where’s the nurse’s button?”

She presses it herself, grimacing as another contraction takes hold. Minutes later, a nurse enters, her dark blue scrubs wrinkled but her demeanor calm and professional.

“You’re coming along nicely,” she says after a quick check.

“And the earlier bleeding?” I demand, my voice sharper than intended.

The nurse hesitates, glancing at Megan for what feels like permission to speak to me.

“He’s my fiancé,” Megan assures her.

“It was just a bloody show, which is perfectly normal,” the nurse explains. “Her body is preparing for delivery.”

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