Page 186 of War

“Truly?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.

Hope this wasn’t a mistake.

I nod, sucking in my lower lip. “Yeah. You knocked me up real good.”

War’s gaze moves down to my stomach. After a moment, he places one of his large hands on my abdomen. “You’re carrying my child.” His fingers flex against my flesh. “Mychild.”

I see his throat work, and I’m petrified, utterly petrified.

War’s gaze moves back to mine, and his eyes shine.

Is he sad? Is he happy?

The horseman takes my face into his. “I have never felt this …joy.”

He lets out a laugh, and his eyes … his violent, scary eyestear up.

Oh my God. He’s happy. Obscenely happy. And now, for the first time since I found out I was pregnant, I feel a spark of happiness too. More than a spark. I smile a little shyly at him, and he takes my face.

“Is this what you were running from?”

I pause for a moment, then nod.

He presses his forehead to mine. “You will never have to fear me, wife—nor will our children. I swear it before God Himself.”

Children? Did he just assume there’d be more?

War kisses me then, and I get swept away by him. I can feel the horseman’s excitement and his hope in the press of his lips. My heart races. He wants the whole human package—marriage, children, everything. I’m not sure I entirely believed it until now.

“No more, Miriam,” War says. “No more fighting, no more running, no more distrust between us. I understand. Finally, I do. What I have done to you and what I have refused to do for you.

“Iunderstand,” he repeats, emphasizing the word. “From this moment on, things will be different, wife. I gave you my vow and I intend to uphold it. You have surrendered—I will as well.”

A chill slides over me then, which is the absolute wrong response because this iseverythingI wanted.

“Just say you’ll be mine. Not just in name, but in all ways. Then it is yours. It isallyours.”

I search the warlord’s face, sure that I misheard him. But this is no trick. All I have to do is give myself over to him. To be War’s wholly and completely … and things will change.

It’s hard to trust your heart, but it’s easy to give in to it.

“I am yours, War,” I say. “Now and forever.”

After we getback to camp, War pulls me into bed and holds me close, his hand drifting down to my stomach.

“I have a child.” He’s been saying varying versions of this since he found out. He’s still dumbstruck by it.

The horseman leans down and places a kiss against my stomach, and I run a hand through his hair.

His eyes rise to meet mine. “I don’t know what it means to have a pregnant wife,” he admits. “I’m wholly unfamiliar with the process.”

I guess he would be. There’s not a whole lot of pregnant women involved in wars.

“I’ve never done this either.” For once, we’ve found something we’re both equally inexperienced at.

“What do you know of it?” he asks.

“Not much—other than the fact that women stay pregnant for nine months before giving birth,” I say. “I’ve probably been pregnant for a month or more already,” I add.

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