Page 36 of His Unicorn Alpha
Chapter Thirteen
My intention to work was derailed the very moment I walked through the doors to the clinic. I should have anticipated that my friends would be just as eager to corner me as my brother had been.
Damon and Ollie looped their arms through mine and guided me into the soundproofed treatment room and closed the door behind us.
Damon pointed to one of the chairs next to the desk. “Sit and start talking, buster.”
I did not sit.
“I thought we were easing into it,” Ollie said with some amusement, but Day shook his head.
“We don’t have time for the softly-softly approach.” He looked at me. “Jazz has the kids. She’s going to give them way too much sugar and then hand them back all hyped up.”
“Is that not a reasonable consequence for abducting me?” I teased lightly.
“Payback’s a bitch, Bran,” Day shrugged. “You’ll have three toddlers of your own soon enough.” His smug expression fell into one of hurt. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us. Tell me.”
The guilt welled up inside me again and I looked at the floor. “I didn’t tell anyone. I couldn’t. What I did…”
“Pssshhht,” Damon waved his hand dismissively. “Forget the ethics for a minute—”
Ollie made a strangled sound at the back of his throat.
Damon ignored him. “Forget the ethics,” he repeated. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve had baby fever. Don’t deny it.” He pointed his index finger at me. “I’ve watched you with the pack kids.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “but—”
“Sofinallygetting to have your own ishuge,” he cut me off before I could say anything about the actions I had taken.
Ollie nodded, adding, “And that’s ignoring the species saving thing.”
“So, yeah,” Day cut back in easily. “We’ve got your back, Bran. And, y’know, we’ve been through it all if you want to bitch about the morning sickness, or the sore back, or the…other stuff.” He made a face, clearly remembering the many complaints he had shared about his condition when he had been pregnant.
I looked between the two men, feeling overwhelmed by their support and continued friendship. “Thank you. I…” As I moved to once again apologize for my actions, I realized that they —and Micah— were right. I couldn’t keep going around in circles. I had made my choices, and they were making theirs. Tears welled in my eyes and I managed to choke out another effusive, “Thank you.”
Day lunged forward and wrapped me in a hug, and I tried not to focus on how much larger I was, comparatively speaking. Oliver followed suit moments later, making the hug more of ahuddle, but the embrace helped heal my guilt in ways I couldn’t articulate.
“So,” Ollie asked as we pulled out of the three-way hug, “three babies. You’re a brave man, Bran. I thought two was a handful!”
“Are you going to find out if you’re having boys or girls or whatever mix of both?” Day asked before I could react to Ollie’s comment.
“Oooh,” Ollie nodded emphatically, “yes, are you? And have you started thinking about names?”
“Uh…” I blinked, stunned by their rabid enthusiasm and rapid-fire questions. Neither man was particularly prone to such excitable behavior…though, now that I thought about it, Oliverhadbeen just as enthusiastic when Lena and Brandi had announced their twin pregnancy. I had assumed that had more to do with his friendship with the women than anything else and…oh.
The urge to cry hit me all over again.
I had known we were friends, but to be treated the same way as his closest friends…well, it meant a lot to me. I was more introverted than either of my brothers, but I still craved the closeness of pack and family. Having Ollie and Day treat me like family warmed me from the inside out.
“It’s such a pity kids don’t shift until they’re school-aged,” Day lamented, moving the conversation along despite my lack of a response. He turned to Ollie and crooned, “Could you imagine cute little baby dragons? The tiny wings!”
“The breathing fire when they’re upset,” Ollie laughed back at him. “I’m concerned about the impulse control of five-year-olds, let alone babies or toddlers. So, no, I think school-aged is best.”
Day rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. “Spoilsport,” he accused playfully. Then he looked back at me. “Do you think they might be dragons?”
“I don’t know,” I answered, finally able to get a word in edgewise. “And, to be honest, it makes no difference to me whether they are boys, girls, non-binary…dragons, horses, human. I—”
“Will love them in any and all combination,” Ollie finished with a gentle smile. “Yeah, we both know. But it’s still fun to hypothesize. I used to imagine a set of twin boys who looked like Beck.”
