Sunset

RORY

I wake up from my afternoon nap to find our bedroom flooded with the red light of sunset. I must’ve slept for at least two hours. I sit up carefully, rubbing my pregnant belly, smiling.

This kid’s been wiping me out, but I can’t imagine being happier. The baby’s grown so much in the months since the birth was announced at the pack-wide ceremony to celebrate Nemesis’s defeat.

The pack has finally accepted me, more or less. I am carrying their alpha’s heir, after all, and I saved the pack’s children from the evil goddess Nemesis.

It still makes me giddy to think I’ll never see her evil yellow eyes again. Compared to her, regular wolves are a cakewalk.

Some of the women who’d hoped to be Everett’s Luna themselves still give me dirty looks, and there will always be those who struggle to trust anyone who isn’t a wolf, but they’re in the minority.

In fact, most of the pack have taken the energy they’d once put into distrusting me and channeled it into protecting me instead. Everyone knows how clumsy I am; it’s impossible to miss.

No matter where I go there’s someone offering to grab a glass for me, to get my chair, to walk with me to the library. I haven’t broken anything in a month, and I have fewer bruises, so I guess it’s a good thing.

It’s mostly sweet and funny but a little annoying, too. It’s not like I’m going to trip and hurt the baby or anything.

The most protective of all, of course, is my mate. Even though his alpha duties keep him busy, he still finds time to hover over me.

There haven’t been any problems since we defeated Nemesis, not so much as a peep. My life has never been so stress-free.

But when I try to tell him to relax a little, he takes my hands, looks into my eyes with that handsome, serious face of his, and says, “I’m not taking any chances with the people I love most.”

How am I supposed to say no to that? I always give in, even when he started having the cook taste my food to make sure it wasn’t poisoned. I love how protective and caring he is, and I can’t blame him for worrying.

We’ve been through so much in the last few years. Now, though, there’s plenty to celebrate. My best friend Freya found her mate in the pack’s gamma Ace, and their mating ceremony is coming up soon.

They’ve been adorable since they became official, holding hands in the dining hall and taking long walks in the forest in the evenings. I know Freya’s been practicing drawing him, in human and wolf forms.

There is the small problem of Freya being another human for the pack to accept and her needing to finish up her degree. Since Ace can’t go with her to New York, that leaves the local university.

My time at Werewolf University was pretty awful, and I had the protection of being the luna. Hopefully, marrying Ace will help Freya, but I can’t help but be nervous for her.

I can’t stand the idea of her experiencing even a fraction of the bullying I have throughout my life. No one knows better than me how cruel wolves can be to a human.

We’ll handle that when we get there, though. For now, we’ve both just been trying to focus on planning the mating ceremony. Freya’s so artistic; she’s being very careful about color choices and when the light will be best.

She’s set the date for six months from now, so I’ll have time to have the baby and be her maid of honor. I cried when she asked me, and she laughed, saying, “Who else would I want?”

Having her around has been such a blessing. She’s even been taking midwife classes, so she can help me when it’s time to give birth.

I can’t believe how huge my belly has gotten. I’m so big, we’ve wondered if I’m having twins, but the sonograms always show only one baby.

Everett swears he can hear two heartbeats, but the doctor says it must just be an echo. We did get to find out the sex of the baby—a boy.

I’m a little sad not to be having a daughter, but who says this will be our only baby? Everett and I are still young; we’ve got lots of time ahead of us.

It’s not like I don’t want a son. I’m sure he’ll be wonderful; it’s other people’s reactions that I’m worried about. As long as people keep the ‘oh yay, a male heir’ stuff to a minimum, I’ll be happy.

I can’t wait to have this baby, to finally meet him and name him! I’ve insisted we have to wait until he’s born to decide on a name, but I think Everett secretly has some favorites.

“But we can wait a little longer,” I say to the baby, rubbing my tummy. “I don’t know that I’m ready to share you yet.”

He kicks against my hand and I smile. I’d always been nervous about being pregnant, and it definitely hasn’t been an easy road, but I’ve also never been happier.

I think it’s time for another trip to the old packhouse to sit with the spirits there. I’ve been spending a lot of time there lately, thinking about what it’ll be like to be a mom.

They never respond, but the wisdom of the ages, the countless babies who grew up in that place, always gives me a sense of calm and comfort.

Plus, it’s the only place I can get some time to myself. The pack still avoids it, so I can get some time without my watchful babysitters.

As I heave myself out of bed, I look at what I’d fallen asleep in: stained sweats and an old shirt of Everett’s. I should probably change. Grungy PJ’s don’t exactly scream ‘capable Luna.’

I carefully maneuver into some sandals, holding onto the wall for balance. It’s hard since I can’t see past my belly, and my feet are a little swollen, but I manage it.

I open the door just a little, peeking out to see if there’s anyone ‘just passing by’ in case I need anything but surprisingly, no one is in sight. I might just make it outside without anyone noticing.

Moving as quietly as I can, I ease out into the hall and creep slowly toward the stairs.

At the top, I pause, biting my lip. I haven’t actually attempted them by myself in a long time. The steps are pretty steep and narrow, and I can’t see my feet.

A little stumble over a root is one thing, but if I fall down these stairs, it could be a pretty serious problem. I want independence, not to get me or the baby seriously hurt.

Voices drift up from the main room as I consider my options, and one of them makes my heart start pounding in my chest. I strain, trying to make it out, hoping I’m mistaken.

It can’t be her. It can’t. I thought I was safe now, that I’d never hear her voice again.