Page 50 of The Red (The Godwicks 1)

He shook his head. "I can’t explain.Notyet.”

"I want to have your child,” she said. "Will you do that for me? You said you would leave me, but I want to have your child whether you stay or go.CanI?”

"You may have my child. It’s what I’ve wanted all along, for you to have thenextheir.”

"Why?”

"A deathbedpromise.”

"What was thepromise?”

"I can’texplain.”

"Notyet?”

"Not yet,” he said. "But you’ll understand soonenough.”

"I can wait,” she said. "I trustyounow.”

"That’s allIask.”

"Do you need more?” she asked. As soon as he told her he would let her have his child, her breasts felt painfully full again. He nodded and she lowered her bodice again, giving him her breast. The milk flowed into his mouth. By some magic his rail-thin body filled out until he was once again whole and healthy and he looked himself again, proud and virile. She didn’t question it or fear this magic anymore. Itsimplywas.

"I’ll have a son.” As soon as she said it she knew she wasn’t dreaming of the future but seeing it. Somewhere a house made of stone awaited her, iron gates, and a garden of red-thorned roses. "He’ll take after you. I’ll name him anything you tell me tonamehim.”

"Name him for me,” he said before returning to herbreast.

She nodded, smiled. Her son would be named Malcolm, after his father. And she would nurse the son like she’d nursed the father and she would love them both until the dayshedied.

Mona wrapped her arms around Malcolm to hide them from view. She’d heard footsteps in the corridor and feareddiscovery.

"I must help you,”shesaid.

"Let me inside you,”hesaid.

That was easily enough done. She pushed him gently onto his back and straddled his stomach as he lifted her skirts to her waist. With one finger he stroked her, splitting her along the seam of her sex with his fingers. The folds parted for him easily as he touched her. As soon as she’d grown wet enough, he positioned his cock at her opening and eased her downontoit.

Mona wept with joy to have him inside her again. Her purple skirts made a blanket for them and under that blanket they coupled themselves together, deeply, slowly, and with such tenderness she feared she’d never stop crying. Malcolm kissed her face, her tears, her hair that spilled over her shoulders. Somehow—he didn’t tell her and she knew he wouldn’t—somehow she knew he’d been languishing, a prisoner, all this time. She’d fed him through their lovemaking and when she’d taken it away from him, she’d starved him somehow. Someone else had made him a prisoner but it was she who’d taken his sustenancefromhim.

"I’ll never banish you again,” she said as she moved up and down on him. She clenched her inner muscles, wanting to hold him tight inside of her and never let him out. "You scared me so much that night. Was that yourtrueform?”

"Only the form of my soul,” he said. "A prisoner, deformed, halfanimal.”

"You’re beautiful to me,” she said. "I’ll do whatever it takes tofreeyou.”

"The time will come when I’ll ask you to do something you don’t want to doagain.”

"I don’t care. I’ll do it anyway. There’s nothing you could ask me to do that I won’tallow.”

"Will you let me go whenit’stime?”

"If you’ll leave me your child in your place, then yes,” she said. "But please don’t ask that of me,mylove.”

"You don’tloveme.”

"I do, I swear I do.” She showered his face with kisses. "Tell me how to prove it and I’ll prove ittoyou.”

"When I must leave you, you’ll know whattodo.”

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