“She’s good for you.” Tolya is suddenly serious, but in a way I haven’t seen since we were kids. Since… before. “I can tell. You have this… this… glow about you.”
Now, it’s my turn to snort. “I’m not f*****g pregnant.”
His brow twitches. “Is she?”
I damn near choke on my spit. “God, I hope not.”
I’ll be over the moon the day she becomes pregnant with my baby. But that’s an “in the future” thing, for when everything blows over and we’re finally in our happy little slice of paradise far, far away from all the bastards trying to tear us apart.
The thought of her being pregnant, with my child, during the auction and her enslavement and s**t—or even before, when I was a total f*****g i***t shunning her and Willow…
Fucking hell, that’s a sobering thought. I shudder.
Tolya is thoroughly en
