L E I L A N I
I spent the rest of the months of my pregnancy sleeping and eating. Non stop.
The moment I had hit eight months, there was this instant fatigue and hunger that consumed me. My body was preparing for the final stretch, and it demanded fuel. Lots of it. Fenrir found it both amusing and concerning, often appearing at my bedside with trays of food at odd hours of the night.
And now, at nine months, it had gotten so much worse.
He was a different person now. Softer, but still the Alpha. He would read to the baby every night. He would rub my swollen feet even when I didn’t ask. He was trying to give me a taste of normalcy in a life that was anything but.
He was preparing for the birth of our son, but he was also preparing for war. He had spent countless hours in his office,
