Page 166 of Watch Me Burn
His voice is rough with emotion, and tears blur my vision. I can’t look away from him, can’t breathe, and can’t think past the way my heart is trying to beat right out of my chest.
“I love you.” He drags his tongue across his bottom lip, and his eyes soften in that way they do now when he looks at me. “I don’t deserve it. We both know that. But you love me anyway. Love for me is more than what we have in the dark. It’s watching you save a baby deer at three in the morning. It’s the way you sing to injured animals while you work. And it’s the way you look at me and see someone better than I am.”
He holds up the ring, and even through my tears, I can see it’s perfect. A cluster of diamonds sits atop a simple band, catching the lamplight like captured fire. It’s beautiful, elegant, and timeless. But it’s the expression on Damien’s face that steals the strength from my legs. The love in his eyes runs so deep and honest it strips me down to nothing, leaving me vulnerable and aching and wholly his.
“Will you marry me?”
The sob that escapes me is part joy, part hormonal overload, and part disbelief that this incredible man wants to spend his life with me.
“No. I can’t.”
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, and hurt sweeps over his features. His face closes off, the emotion in his eyes slamming shut as the dark side of my wolf comes to the surface.
He stands, stepping closer to me, his large frame towering over me the way he does when he wants to intimidate me. But I don’t let him anymore, and he knows it.
Still, he doesn’t understand why I’m saying no, and I’m sobbing too hard to explain.
“I can’t.” My breath hitches as I grasp the front of his shirt, needing the anchor of his warmth. “Not until…”
His eyes lose their edge, but the line between his brows deepens as another sob wrenches from my chest, then another. Heaving sobs I can’t seem to control. The hormones have rewired something in me, turning every small thing into a tidal wave that drags me under.
“Luna.” He pulls me against his chest, and some of the tension leaves his body. “Fuck. Why are you crying like this? If you don’t want to marry me—”
He stops, the words paining him, and I cry harder because I’m hurting him and I don’t know how to make him understand.
I bury my face in his chest, shaking my head against his shirt, breathing in his scent—vanilla and amber and the clean, masculine scent that always makes me feel safe. His arms tighten around me, protective and warm.
“I… I… want to,” I manage between sobs, my voice muffled against his chest. “It’s just…”
“What is it, sweetheart?”
The words spill out before I can stop them.
“I’m pregnant.”
His entire body goes still against mine. Not just tense, but motionless, like he’s stopped breathing.
“My hormones are insane, and I sobbed for twenty minutes because we ran out of strawberry jam, and I know we haven’t talked about this, and it’s terrible timing, and I don’t even know how it happened because we’re usually so careful, but apparently not careful enough, and—”
His mouth covers mine, cutting off my babbling. I melt against him, my breath hitching against his lips. The kiss tastes like relief and joy and promises I want to spend the rest of my life collecting.
When he pulls back, I search his face for any sign of anger or disappointment. “Are you mad?”
I miscarried our baby last fall, when I didn’t know he and my wolf were the same man. That pregnancy was unplanned too, but it’s different now. We’retogether, there are no more secrets between us, and he wants to marry me. But that doesn’t mean he wants children. He told me once he had no desire to father anything.
He cups my face in his hands, thumbs brushing away my tears, his intense eyes holding mine captive. “Luna, considering how often I come inside you, I’m surprised it took this long.”
I hiccup, lifting my fingers to wipe away more tears. Relief makes me dizzy. “I know we haven’t talked about this, but we can’t get married until we decide what to—”
He kisses me again to shut me up, and I lose myself in the taste of him. When he releases my lips, he presses his forehead against mine.
“Listen to me, Luna. If you want this baby, I want this baby. But you know the kind of man I am. I’ll be a shitty father.”
“No!” I shake my head and grip his face in my hands, needing him to understand. He’ll be amazing.
“Yes.” He grasps my wrists, his touch gentle but firm. “My capacity for emotion and love is exclusive to you. But I’ll do my best with any children we have.”
Another sob escapes my lips. One day, he’ll know that his capacity for love is infinite.
