Page 67 of Owned

Two pink lines.

The room spun and I found myself sitting on the polished wood of the bathroom floor, my fingertips cold, my legs like jelly, nausea sitting in the pit of my stomach.

Pregnant. I was pregnant.

Just at that moment, I heard footsteps and before I could push myself to my feet, with perfect timing, Atlas appeared in the doorway. Instantly his face tightened as he saw me on the floor and in two strides he was beside me. “Rowan,” he murmured, scooping me up in his arms. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Was it worry in his golden eyes? I couldn’t tell. All I felt in that moment was a stunning kind of relief that he was here, that I wouldn’t have to do this alone after all, because all my life I’d had to handle everything myself and the fact that I didn’t have to do it now stole the breath from me.

I leaned my head back against his shoulder and looked up at him as he sat on the side of the bathtub, still holding me.

“What is it, beauty?” he asked, an edge in his voice. “Answer me.”

I got some moisture into my dry mouth. “I took a pregnancy test.”

“Ah.” He glanced at the test sitting on the vanity, then looked down at me, and I felt his breath still. This meant something to him, didn’t it? He’d told me that he would never let Charlotte have any child of his, even though he didn’t want to be an actual father, but was he actively hoping I was pregnant?

Suddenly his eyes flared bright gold. “You’re pregnant.” It wasn’t a question, just a flat statement and given how he’d found me on the floor looking up at him white-faced, he must have guessed the answer.

I nodded, still struggling to deal with the reality of the situation.

He made a sound deep in the back of his throat, wordless and feral, and his arms tightened around me. His eyes blazed with an intensity I’d only ever seen when he was in bed with me. “I’m keeping it,” he said and I knew he wasn’t saying it to me. “I’m keeping both of you.”

Another wave of helpless panic rose inside me and I tried to push him away, feeling breathless and trapped all of a sudden. But it was like trying to push against a brick wall. “Be still,” he ordered in the voice he used when there was no arguing with him. “You’re scared, I know, but this is going to be okay.”

I couldn’t stop shivering. “You don’t know that. I’m not ready for this, Atlas. I don’t think I can?—”

“You can,” he interrupted fiercely. “I know you’re not ready for it and fuck knows, neither am I, but we’ll handle it together.”

I took a shaky breath, looking up into his eyes, the blaze of his certainty like the sun sending warmth into me. His body was so hard and hot, and his arms so strong. He’d held me countless times after I’d fallen apart in bed with him, as if holding the pieces of me together, and I realized that’s what he was doing right now. He was holding me together still and not in a sexual way this time, but emotionally. Sharing with me his strength and support and his conviction.

The knowledge swept over me and all my muscles relaxed, the sense of panic ebbing. “I don’t know,” I said. “I want to go to college and I want to travel. I didn’t have a kid in any of those plans.”

“You can still do all of those things.” The expression on his face was still ferocious. “You’re the most organized, most stubborn person I know and if anyone can make it work, it’s you. But you won’t have to struggle alone through it, beauty, I promise. I have money, so you’ll get the best care and so will the baby. This won’t hold you back in any way.”

“But what if I don’t want to do those things any more once the baby is born?” I asked, feeling stupid. “What if I change? I know it sounds self-centered, but what if I’m not still…me?”

“It’s not self-centered. Fuck, it’s valid to be scared of a change like this. But like I said, you’re a stubborn woman. I can’t imagine anything changing you if you didn’t want to be changed.”

“But what if I can’t do it?” My throat closed with a sudden, nameless fear. “What if I’m a terrible mother?”

Atlas’s arms tightened and he leaned down, his mouth brushing over mine. “You’ll be a fantastic mother,” he murmured. “You’re smart and strong and caring. Loyal to a fault. Of course you’ll be a good mother.”

I let a little of the fear go, allowing myself to relax into Atlas’s strength. He was a wall between me and the rest of the world, protecting me, and I hadn’t known how desperately I’d craved protection from that world until now.

My head was against his shoulder and I tilted it slightly, looking up into his face. “You’ll be a father,” I said. “Are you okay with that?”

A muscle leapt in his jaw and as my own tension eased, I sensed the tension in him. “No,” he admitted after a moment. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not pleased.”

He was pleased, too. I’d seen the blaze in his eyes when I’d told him. Yet I could also understand his conflicts. He’d told me didn’t think he was good enough father material, though I was starting to wonder if that was just an excuse.

“I think you’d be a good father, too,” I said.

He let out a mirthless laugh. “No, beauty. I’m no role model for any kid.”

“Why not?” It was partly a challenge and partly because I wanted to know why he thought that. “You’re so protective and I think you care deeply about this. Aren’t those good qualities to have in a father?”

“I wouldn’t know.” His tone was dismissive. “I never had a decent father. What’s more important though, is whether we tell Charlotte or not.”

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