Page 37 of Backstage at the Freak Show
“Look at that,” she whispered, reaching out for Mason’s chubby foot.
He was calmer, now snuggled up to my shoulder like she was. His fist was in his mouth, drool puddling on my shirt as his eyelids started drooping.
“Keep purring,” Mel whispered. “He’s gonna knock right out.”
I turned it up to a loud rattle, enveloping my son in the rhythmic vibrations that seemed to calm him just as much as his mum. Even after his eyes closed and his fist slid limply out of his mouth, I purred while carrying him all the way to his bassinet across the room.
“Sleep deeply, little cub,” I whispered over my purr as I slowly lowered him down.
“If I had known that was all it took,” Mel grinned at me, “I’d have recordings of it since he was born.”
“We can record the next one,” I told her, pulling my shirt out of my slacks. “Now,” I leaned down over the armchair, hovering my mouth above hers, “I’m drawing a bath and putting you in it.”
“Mm, tell me more,” she smiled.
“It’s going to be hot and bubbly, with one of those wretched bath fizzer things.”
“Bombs,” she said. “They’re called bath bombs.”
“Of course, love. Then while you’re in there,” I skimmed my fingertips over her jaw, tracing down her neck. “I’m going to make dinner. How does a tikka masala sound?”
“Ugh, amazing,” she moaned, leaning into my hand. “I’ve been living on whatever chips I can get out of the cabinets.”
“Oh no, crisps won’t do. My wife needs a full meal.” I pulled her from the chair, scooping her up into my arms to carry her to the bath upstairs. “And then,” I brushed my lips across her forehead, my purr returning, “I’m going to make a meal out of her.”
An hour later,Mel was clean, relaxed, and refreshed. She happily sat at the table while I doled out dinner for us.
“They’re out really late,” I remarked, eying the setting sun. “I really can’t believe they’d leave you alone for this long.”
“It was my fault,” she sighed, fiddling with the baby monitor. “I insisted they go. Hunter almost didn’t but Raz was itching to get into his dragon form. I just,” she took in a shaky breath, “got overwhelmed so quickly and felt like a failure.”
“You’re not.” I dragged her chair close to me with a growl, bringing a nip down on her shoulder. “The first few months—the first year, really—is the hardest. Even if I didn’t come home when I did, he would have exhausted himself and fallen asleep eventually. There’s no way you could have known, love.”
Her eyes were still downcast, fork picking through her food absently as I massaged my fingers into her nape. “Is there anything else bothering you?”
“I don’t want to be likemymom,” she admitted in a tiny voice. “I guess I…wanted to prove to myself that I could be better, but—”
“Hey.” I lifted her chin to make her face me. “That woman who spat you and your siblings out is no mother. She used you. She is nothing. You?” I pressed a kiss on her mouth, my tiger already roaring to protect his mate. Thankfully, Mel’s incubator was already serving time for drug trafficking and child endangerment, but I hated that the woman still affected my wife’s sense of self-worth.
“You are the most powerful shaman seen in generations,” I whispered against her lips. “You have driven peace between shifters and humans. You saved my life. You gave me my son. You have a man, a wolf, a tiger, and adragonwho worship the ground you walk on. My love,” I sipped another kiss from her, all but pulling her into my lap, “you are nothing short of extraordinary.”
Her dark eyes blinked away tears, lips pulling into a grateful smile as she held my face in her palms. “I love you so much,” she sighed. “Sometimes it still doesn’t feel real, that I have all of you. So many people search for one soul mate to complete them, and I have four.”
“You deserve a hundred soul mates if that would make you happy.”
“No way!” she laughed. “Nowthatwould be a full house.”
“It would mean you’re never alone with the baby.” I pressed a kiss to her palm.
“Are you suggesting I add to my harem?” she teased. “Maybe a lion, or someone from Tak’s tribe—”
My tiger bubbled to the surface, releasing a possessive growl to her laughter.
“You don’t seem hungry, so maybe I’ll just convince you that we’re enough.” I turned her chair to me, grabbed the waistband of her leggings and proceeded to yank them down her hips.
“I don’t need more convincing after that lovely bath and dinner,” she giggled, squirming in my grip but not putting up much of a fight.
“Well I’m starving for you.” I kissed the exposed flesh on her hip, working the stretchy fabric down lower. “I haven’t touched or tasted my wife in too fucking long.”
