Page 32 of Yasmin and the Yeti
When she finally heard the heavy tread of his footsteps outside, her heart leapt into her throat. She stood in the center of the cave, hands clasped tightly together to stop them from shaking.
He ducked through the entrance, bringing a swirl of cold air and snowflakes with him. His white fur was dusted with fresh powder, giving him an ethereal appearance in the firelight. He carried two pikka, already skinned and cleaned, the fruits of his morning hunt.
He set them down near the fire pit and turned to her with a slight smile—that rare, precious expression that transformed his fierce features into something gentle.
The carefully rehearsed words flew from her mind. All her planning dissolved in the face of the moment’s reality.
“I think I’m pregnant,” she blurted out, her voice trembling with emotion. “I mean… a cub.”
He froze completely. The smile vanished, replaced by an expression of such intense shock that for one terrible moment, she feared she’d made a mistake. Perhaps he didn’t want this. Perhaps cubs weren’t part of the future he’d imagined for them.
His glowing blue eyes widened, staring at her face, then dropping to her still-flat belly, as if he could see through skin and muscle to the miracle that might be growing inside. Then he dropped to his knees in front of her, gently cradling her hips as he pressed his face against her belly, his eyes closing. A tremor ran through his powerful shoulders.
A deep, rumbling sound vibrated from his chest—not his usual growl, but something she’d never heard before. It was a sound of pure joy, of possessive pride, of wonder.
“Our cub,” he whispered against her skin, his voice thick with emotion. “Ours.”
Her eyes filled with tears. She threaded her fingers through his thick mane, holding him to her. The rightness she’d felt earlier returned tenfold, washing away her fears in a tide of shared happiness.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Ours.”
He looked up at her, and the naked vulnerability in his gaze took her breath away. This fierce warrior, this predator who had faced down threats she could barely imagine, looked utterly humbled by the prospect of fatherhood.
“You… happy?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant.
She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. She had never been more certain of anything in her life.
He rose to his feet, lifting her effortlessly in his arms. He carried her to their bed of furs, laying her down as carefully as if she were made of glass, then curling protectively around her.
His hand settled over her belly again, spanning nearly its entire width. The gesture was possessive, protective, and tender all at once.
“Need healer,” he said after a long silence. “Clan healer.”
She nodded, relieved that he’d been the one to suggest it. “Yes. To make sure everything is… good.”
He was quiet for a moment, his expression troubled. “Clan… not all kind. To me. To us.”
She understood his concern. Their last encounter with Broc had been tense, despite her attempt at peacemaking. From what she could gather, the clan’s mistrust of Rhaal ran deep, rooted in a history she still didn’t fully understand.
“We go together,” she said firmly, placing her hand over his. “I’m not afraid.”
A flicker of pride crossed his features. “Brave mate.”
The word “mate” had taken on new meaning in recent weeks. It wasn’t just a designation or a role; it was an identity, a connection deeper than any she’d known on Earth. And now that connection would be embodied in their child.
“When do we go?” she asked.
“A few days,” he decided. “Need prepare.”
She suspected he meant mentally more than physically. According to the map he’d drawn for her, the clan caves were onthe other side of the ridge behind their cave but the trip would still take several hours on foot.
As night fell, they lay together in the warm furs, planning their journey in a mixture of his language and hers. The practical discussions helped ground her swirling emotions, giving her something concrete to focus on beyond the overwhelming reality of pregnancy.
But in the quiet moments between words, her hand would drift to her belly, and she would marvel at the miracle taking place within her. A child born of two worlds, of an impossible love. A bridge between species, between cultures.
A new beginning.
He seemed to sense her thoughts, tucking her against his chest.
