Page 22 of Labor of Love

Zenith froze. He looked bewildered, then amazed, and his face softened.

Emre took the smaller plate of food from him, his heart thumping. “That’s Abbie. She likes being scratched behind her ears.”

Zenith carefully reached over to do exactly that. Abbie twisted around onto her back and nipped at his fingers; Zenithlet her.

“Abbie! Don’t bite,” Emre yelped.

“It’s fine,” Zenith said, perfectly willing to be Abbie’s chew toy when no one else would. “She’s beautiful.” He pulled his hand back when she grew bored and raced off, his gaze going to Emre’s baby bump. “Is your...?”

“Also a wolf pup.” Emre rubbed his belly. “Makes me crave raw meat.”

The alpha’s mouth pulled into a smile. “Your steak is rare—it’s only seared on the outside.”

Emre’s heart fluttered. “That’s... You’re doing a lot for me.”

Zenith shrugged easily, not looking away from Emre. “You’re special.”

Emre didn’t know what to say to that, so he stuffed his steak into his mouth. And belatedly remembered his manners.

This left him staring awkwardly at Zenith, the slab of meat hanging from his teeth. “Um.”

Zenith laughed. “Go ahead and eat it. I just hope you enjoy my food.”

Emre tore off some meat and swallowed, moaning at its tenderness. “So good.”

Zenith cleared his throat, his gaze turning intent.

After a whole lifetime of his pack telling him he should behave primly and demurely so alphas would think he was acceptable, it was amazing to learn that he could drip steak juices everywhere, and Zenith would still look at him like he wasdesirable.

“Oh,” Emre mumbled, shocked.

He tried to eat more tidily and mostly failed, but Zenith stuck around, watching both him and Abbie.

Actually, Zenith had pushed claws out of his fingertips, and he was using them to carefully separate his own steak into smaller pieces.

“You don’t use cutlery?” Emre blurted.

Zenith shrugged. “I thought I would try it this way, since you’re comfortable with it.”

Only then did Emre see the clean knives and forks on Zenith’s other side, forgotten.

He gulped, oddly touched.

Then he wondered what the chances were, that someone like Zenith would want a nobody like him. There was somethingotherabout Zenith, Emre knew. Something powerful, strong. He wasn’t a common species. Nothing Emre had met before.

“How old are you?” he blurted.

“Not too old. A hundred and twelve.”

Emre’s mouth fell open. “That’s‘not old’?!”

Emre was twenty-three, and he thought he was plenty old himself.

“My species is long-lived. Compared to my brothers, I’m terribly young.” The alpha smiled, his gaze sliding to Emre’s belly. “I would like to have a baby, though.”

“Why don’t you have one yet? I’m sure there are several people willing to give you a baby.”

“Like you?” Zenith’s smile grew.

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