Page 52 of Targeted By Fate

“The head!” Rhodes was yelling as loud as my mate.

“Did you hear that, Keane? We have a head.”

“Push, Keane. The baby’s almost here.” That was Rhodes, and I took him at his word.

“Almost here, love.” My mate was doing all the work, and I was just repeating what Rhodes said.

“You did it,” Rhodes squealed.

Keane flopped to one side, and I grabbed his chin, thinking he’d passed out. His body reminded me of a rag doll kids played with in movies, but he grinned and held out his arms for our baby.

“A beautiful baby boy.”

Rhodes left the room, and my mate nuzzled our son. He was red and plump and wriggling on Keane’s chest, but his eyes were open, and they were the same color as my mate’s.

“We have to think of a name.”

We hadn't been able to agree on one, but our baby was here, and we had to name him.

EPILOGUE

KEANE

“Felix, it’s time to go.”

I already had the car packed, and all I was waiting for was Felix to decide which shoes he was going to put on today.

Since turning three, he’d gained independence in different ways than I’d expected—mainly with his shoes. Our sweet boy was all about footwear. He didn’t care what clothes we gave him to wear. He didn’t care what coat, what haircut—none of that. But he had shoes for every occasion, and he was very matter-of-fact about there being only one right choice. I thought it would fade as he got older, but he was nearly four and just as shoe-focused, if not more so.

Today, we threw a monkey wrench into that routine. We hadn’t told him where we were going—just that it was a surprise. We couldn’t wait to tell him that our second little one was on the way.

Felix came running out with two different sneakers on. That was a first.

“So… you decided?” I asked, looking at his feet.

“No. So I did both.” For a child his age, he had some pretty solid problem-solving skills.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Is Papa coming with us?” He looked around for Boaz.

“Yeah, he’s already out by the car.”

Felix ran ahead of me, straight to his papa, who helped him get buckled into his seat, and we were off to give him the good news—and to show him the surprise we’d picked out for him, which was our first stop.

I’d forgotten how much he wasn’t a fan of long car rides. He asked over and over again: where were we going, were we there yet, were we staying overnight... and then back to the beginning again.

Boaz was much more patient than I was with that. He answered every question like they were information-seeking—because, at three, they actually were.

Eventually, we got there. It was the same farm where Boaz had ordered my bookshelves when I was pregnant and had since picked out a smaller one for Felix’s room.

“We’re going to a farm. Is that so you can shift?” Felix asked as Boaz parked the car.

I shook my head.

Boaz took the reins. “No. And remember how Daddy told you there are shifters and there are humans? And humans don’t really know about shifters?”

“Uh-huh.”

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