Page 123 of Guardians of the Assassins
EPILOGUE
A FEW YEARS LATER
“It’s time.” Draven wheezed as he skidded around the corner of the house. His chest heaved as he leaned over and braced his hands on his knees, sweat making his hair stick to his face. He glanced up at Kincade and Ascher, panic flaring in his eyes. “Now. It’s time. The baby.”
Both men froze, then dropped the weapons they were using to show the trainees how to spar. They tore across the yard, and Morgan wanted to roll her eyes as she waddled toward the house, her hand against her back as she tried to ease the pressure.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Kincade bellowed when he was only five feet from her. “You’re supposed to be in bed!”
Morgan narrowed her eyes, and she saw his expression shift from panic to wary. “Don’t you dare take that tone of voice with me.”
His mouth immediately snapped shut.
Even Loki snarled at him, the puppy now a large dog the size of a small SUV.
The guys had assigned the gardog as her protector ever since they learned of the pregnancy, and the beast took his job seriously. Morgan would swear Loki was actually talking withthe baby at times the way he would stare at her belly and gently rest his head against it as if listening.
Morgan glared at Kincade, would’ve fucking poked him in the chest, but Ryder had a death grip on her hand. He placed his other hand under her arm, cupping her elbow, taking mincing steps like she was an old woman crossing the street. “I was feeling restless, and the baby wanted to go for a walk.”
No one argued with her when she said the baby wanted something. Not after the first time, when the baby made the house rattle after being denied.
“You were checking out the wolves again,” Ascher accused as he burst out of the front door of the house, his hands on his hips. “She sent me to get her some chocolate cake. We didn’t have any, so while I was making it, she snuck out of the house.
Morgan almost felt guilty when she saw flour dusting the front of his clothing, then gritted her teeth when another contraction tightened around her middle. She rubbed her belly, taking slow, deep breaths as she worked through the pain.
“That’s the tenth one…they’re only a few minutes apart.” Ryder’s voice was hoarse as he whisper-yelled at the guys, panic making his eyes too wide, like he was the one who had to push out a ten-pound baby.
“Relax.” She patted his arm as she continued her way toward the house. “Babies take a long time to arrive.”
Instead of comforting, he turned deathly pale, and she had to grab his arm for fear that he was seconds away from tumbling over.
Then, as if the universe wanted to prove her wrong, her water broke.
“Ohshitohshitohshit.” Draven completely freaked out, then grabbed Atlas’s arm and dragged the elf forward. “The baby is coming.”
Caedmon rounded the side of the house with what looked like a hundred people following him, excitement making his eyes glow a bright yellow. When he reached her, he swept her up inhis arms, then kissed her forehead and carried her to the house. “How about we go meet our daughter?”
“No, we’re having a son,” Morgan insisted, leaning against his shoulder, allowing herself to relax at his comforting presence.
“Nope,” Draven argued and shook his head. “We decided on a girl that looks just like you.”
Morgan could only chuckle. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
She could only imagine the amount of trouble the two of them would find.
“We did not decide anything,” Ascher chided, opening the door and stepping aside. “Boy or girl, we will love the child equally.”
Of that, Morgan had no doubt.
While she didn’t remember her parents, her baby was going to be smothered by them. Ever since the guys had learned she was pregnant, they refused to leave the coven.
Which meant she had to deal with six well-intentioned males.
She was running out of ideas to keep them busy.
As they neared their bedroom, Ryder rushed ahead and threw open the doors. It was decided that she would give birth at the coven to make sure she and the baby were protected. Atlas was her midwife. He’d spent the last eight months reading every book in existence on the subject.
Twice.
