Page 107 of Labor of Love

That’s absolute shit.

Rhydian

Wow. Just… wow…

I rub my hand over my face and look around. I’m sitting on the front porch, a place I rarely spend time, though I have been doing it more as I commit our neighborhood to memory. I can see Iri’s parents’ house down the road from right here.

Over this past year, I’ve tried a lot of weird, natural remedies to help with conception. Our pack has been throwing ideas at me, too. It means a lot that they’re trying to help us. Perhaps I’m misreading the situation, but it feels like our conception is as important to them as it is to us.

Hakan found an old wives’ tale about a certain kind of pollen nectar, so I ordered it from the flower shop close to the school Iri teaches at. The day I was notified it arrived, I suggested we stop to get flowers for his parents so I could pick it up. I gave him a glassful that day as soon as we got home, mixed with water as the instructions stated.

Just one more thing that didn’t work.

My gut feels all twisted as everything inside me wars. I love our home. Our city. I love how close we are to our families. The idea of leaving here makes me sick to my stomach.

Knowing that I’m bringing Iri into a world that’s far less safe and puts a huge target on his back has me almost hysterically terrified. How do I protect him? How is he supposed to live stuck inside and not dare to walk around his own backyard after having so much freedom to live his entire life?

But then, it also means we finally get to be with our pack. I’m as excited as I am nervous. The day that will change our lives is getting nearer and nearer, hurdling like a comet toward us without slowing down.

A glance at the time tells me I need to make lunch. I pocket my phone and head inside. As soon as I walk in the door, Iri’s sweet caramel scent fills my lungs. Lately, it’s been hinted with honey. Maybe it’s a new shampoo. Or lotion. Whatever it is, my dick likes it. Everything inside me likes it. I can taste the sweetness on my tongue, making me salivate as I follow the scent of my breedable deeper into the house.

My cock throbs. My blood pulses loudly.

I walk around the corner and find Iri sitting at the computer with his legs crossed under him. He spends a lot of time just fishing around online. He loves to look at picture aesthetics for nurseries and how he’d like to redecorate our house. He also falls down rabbit holes often and goes off in far different directions than when he began.

Two days ago, I found him looking at golf balls, and he gave me the most adorably perplexed look when I asked him how in the world he came to be looking up golf balls. Apparently, he’d begun looking for a dried fruit basket with all the kinds of fruits he wanted to eat in it.

As I get closer, I realize that his expression isn’t amused or entertained today. Something is bothering him. His eyebrows are knitted together, and his bottom lip is between his teeth. I can see the turmoil and… upset reflecting in his eyes, even from profile.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I ask, running my fingers through his hair. They stop in their tracks when he looks up at me because I swear there’s hurt in his eyes. And it’s directed at me.

“What’s this?” he asks.

I look at the screen and my heart stops. He found the folder with all my plans for us leaving Alyra. Our new identities. Our route. Job opportunities in the area. And the guys.Ourpack.

Well, that’s not how I wanted him to find out. I guess it’s time to come clean.

“Come here,” I say, and offer him my hand. I’m relieved when he still trusts me implicitly, without question, and places his hand in mine. I pull him to his feet and take his seat before bringing him into my lap, but making sure our eyes meet.

“I have loved you since the moment we met. You know that, right?”

A fond smile touches his lips, and he nods.

“I must have talked about mating a lot because my brother, who you know works in the genetics lab, took me aside one day and showed me our genetic profiles. Iri, they are about as far from compatible as they can get.”

Tears fill his eyes, and he looks down, sniffling quietly. I take his chin and gently bring his eyes back to mine.

“My choice, even then, was to have you or let someone else have you. It was black and white, and, quite frankly, still is. There was no way in fuck I was ever letting someone else touch you. You belong to me, Iri.”

“You have that wrong.Youbelong tome,” he says.

I grin. “Correct. Sorry.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” he teases, though I can still hear the stress and upset in his voice.

I incline my head. “Even when we were young teens, I knew that if I was going to keep you, I was going to need a backup plan for the eventuality that we couldn’t conceive. In a completely unrelated incident, I met some guys online, just a few years older than us, playing games.”

“How many have you met now?” he asks, rolling his eyes.

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