There was a commotion outside the bedroom. The cardboard box—its purpose fulfilled—and the empty foil packet joined the test in the small trash.

The boom of Carlyle's voice was nothing in comparison to the authoritative tone of an Alpha. Luke wanted in and I knew it wasn't fair on Carlyle to hold the fort on his own. I stood, proceeding to the doorway, taking a deep breath before I opened it.

The noise outside ceased abruptly, and both stopped mid-sentence.

"It's okay." I smiled, although faint, and nodded. "Carlyle, he needs to know," I whispered, a silent apology to the man who had been more than just a friend today.

Carlyle's concerned eyes met mine, an unspoken question there. He knew the gravity of what my test results were because it was impossible to hide them from him. His eyes held mine for a moment longer, conveying a silent promise; no matter what, he would stand by me, as he had Lucille.

Luke stepped around him and into the room. Carlyle's posture, rigid and defensive only moments before, softened at the sight of me stepping forward.

"Is it fucking true? Is it, Dana? How could you both have been so reckless?" Luke demanded.

His words stung, igniting a new fire behind my eyes. My hands clenched into fists at my sides; a primal urge surged through me, compelling me to shift and unleash the full brunt of my frustration on him at his careless words; the truth heavy on my own tongue yet locked behind my lips. "How is a baby reckless? You of all people should be happy for us. I'm not stupid enough not to know this makes things twice as complicated, and.."

Luke stood motionless, his expression unreadable. "Stop for a second, Dana..." Luke's arms lost all strength as they fell against his sides.

Ignoring him, I continued. "And I haven't even begun how to navigate what this means or what comes next, but..." The words hung suspended and I couldn't finish them because I didn't have the next answers myself.

"I was talking about Antoine..."

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Luke sank onto the bed. "Does Paul know?"

I shook my head. "Not yet. I only just..."

The floorboards outside the bedroom protested under the weight of heavy, purposeful strides. Paul's boots—always more like thunder than footsteps—signaled his approach before he even appeared in the doorway.

"Does Paul not know what?" His voice boomed through the suddenly too-small room, each syllable laced with a sharp undertone of accusation.

Our heads whipped around in unison. I moved fast toward him and Paul went from wild looking to dejected instantly. "Paul, before you say anything, I need you to listen."

"Did you finally do the deed, Luke, as soon as my back was turned?" His gaze sliced to Luke's over my shoulder.

There was only one way to tell him without blurting everything else I needed to keep confident. "You have my permission."

A glimmer of shock flashed across Paul's face, his features betraying the implication of my full consent. He inched forward, the hardwood floor creaking beneath his weight. His breath hitched, the corners of his eyes tightening as he readied himself to delve into my memory, to witness the truth bare and unvarnished for himself.

Ready to relieve the day in as vivid detail as possible, I prepared to show him every moment. There was a storm in his eyes, and I waited patiently for it to rescind.

I let my mind unravel, from the time he left this morning, to my time with Carlyle in the woods, to Mr. Thompson, Antoine, and then finally the bathroom and those vibrant twin-pink lines.

Dread pushed up from the pit of my stomach. In my dreams, he would cup my face, his fingers tracing the arcs of my cheekbones, overwhelmed with emotion, and agree to leave Benton with me and our baby. Reality was an unwelcome guest because, for the second time today, it reminded me he would grow old here, never leave—whatever the reason. And the future he would choose over me would buy him the same early grave as his father.

Paul's jaw clenched, his Adam's apple bobbing with a swallow.

Not knowing what he was thinking unsettled me. He had never shut me out before. The happy ending I envisioned now had an equal chance of becoming my nightmare. Was he now thinking of his father? That man who lived and died by the land, for his pack, leaving behind a legacy as rich as it was suffocating? Paul bore the same marks of this inheritance on his back, etched not on the land, but in the furrows of his brow.

I stole a peek at him. The blood drained from his face but nothing prepared me for the spots of tears in his eyes.

"You're pregnant, Dana."

With his movements stiff, he perched on the edge of the bed. Moving to stand in front of him, I nodded, afraid words spoken out loud might alarm him further. There was a sudden swell of emotion behind his eyes. His focus moved to me. Tears now wet his cheeks that begged forgiveness.

"Congratulations," Luke said, his voice a mixture of nerves.

Paul was still too awestruck to acknowledge his presence. Then he stood poker straight. His hands reached up, cupping either side of my face. The type of smile that graced his face I had never seen before, and I doubt I would ever do again.

Was Paul thinking the same thing I was? What do we do now? How do we end this, and if we can, what does that then mean for us?

"That's not exactly what I'm thinking, Peach. This changes everything. I'll follow wherever you go."

To hear him say the words evaporated any fear left in my heart. The relief that washed over me was immense, palpable. Part of me wasn't sure whether his first reaction would always be his last.

"I need your keys," Paul said, turning to Luke, the firmness in his tone brooking no argument. "Me and Dana need to go for a ride. Someone needs to tell Dad he's going to be a grandfather."

Luke's hand twitched before he reached into his pocket, the jangle of keys preceding the small metal cascade into Paul's waiting palm. My hand never left his as we marched down the stairs and out to the truck. The elation on Paul's face had ebbed into something more unnerving, and I wasn't sure why.

Paul circled the front of the truck, his silhouette momentarily merging with the gathering dusk. When he climbed into the driver's seat, the ignition roared to life. I stole glances at him on the drive back to Benton, trying to decipher the subtle shift in his expression. Was it fear? Resignation? Or perhaps the dawning of responsibility?

It was the perfect summer evening when we pulled up to the cabin an hour later. The sun kissed low behind the trees, dappling their leaves with flecks of golden amber.

A silence accompanied our walk up the steps. What would his dad have to say? Would he think our baby was a mistake? Paul's steps suddenly halted. He backtracked and, without a word, interlaced our fingers, tugging me forward. "This would never be a mistake, Peach. Not with us."

My feet became grounded, the onset of nerves amplifying the closer we got to David's front door, and then it dawned on me: would his father be competent enough to remember, or was I doomed to repeat this confession over and over to him to make it stick in is broken mind?

Paul smiled reassuringly. "We do this together. Or, I'll do it this time, you take the next, and we'll repeat the cycle until our kid is old enough to introduce themselves." He flashed me another encouraging grin. "I still can't believe we made a baby, Dana?" He shook his head but the upturn of his lips never diminished.

Walking straight in, Paul called to his dad, announcing his arrival. David turned in his chair, and a grin that warmed my soul bounced back at me until I took in his face. In a matter of a month, his short-term prognosis has crept up on him, making him unrecognizable.

"I'm glad you two sorted things out. I like you, missy."

Paul knelt in front of his father. "I like her too, Dad. Insanely." He cleared his throat. "So much so, in fact...Dana made a baby."

I glared at him. Not by herself.

"A little earlier than anyone would have expected, but we are not here for a life lesson on contraception. There is a teeny problem though..."

Paul's eyes flicked up to his dad.

David's brow furrowed. "I'm going to be a grandpa?" A glistening twinkle in the corner of his eyes melted me before his smile fell. I considered whether we'd lost him already until his vacant stare became a look like no other passing between them. David had figured out the crux of our problem.

He wheezed and launched into a hacking cough. "Let me guess, the problem being your brother, the Alpha?" David rubbed a hand over his face. His eyes fell to my belly, now protected by Paul's firm hand, and he shook his head.

"Luke says he can't control his wolf around Dana, that something is drawing them both together."

"When your daddy left, Dana, Lucille all but lost her way. You don't even see what that makes you, Missy... do you?"

He was one hundred percent right, I didn't have a clue what he was talking about.

"My son, Luke, feels it because you and he are the same. And unfortunately for Paul, you can't stop an Alpha from doing what an Alpha needs to do."

"I was hoping for some better news, Dad." Paul looked at me. "We both were."

"I don't want to ruin your fairy tale, but sometimes the witches win." Removing his oxygen tube, he added, "Dana, honey, give us a minute. I need a moment alone with my Paul."

I nodded, and Paul kissed my temple, and whispered, "I'll find a way. Don't worry. There has to be a way to stop what's happening between you, especially now we have a baby on the way. I'll be out in a moment."

The seconds ticked by into minutes as I sat in the car. It was clouding outside. Desperate to hear even a shred of their conversation, I went through all the possibilities in my mind. Was Paul receiving the third degree or an exit strategy? If there was no way to stop the pull between Luke and me, I faced an uncertain future in Benton, and I couldn't leave with a baby no one could protect.

There was a sudden rise in voices coming from inside the cabin. What on earth was David telling him? I continued to wait until my phone said they had been close to an hour. Weighing the only option left seemed unfathomable; follow through on whatever plans Lucille had for me, and hope to hell she would protect her great-grandchild.

A door slammed. Paul stood at the top of the steps. The evidence of shell shock was all over his face. There was no way out of this. He looked like he now knew that, too. When he saw me staring, he trudged to the truck door, but before opening it, he dug into his pocket, slipping on his sunglasses. It was too late to hide from me. His face was visible in the window's reflection. From the wetness on his cheeks to the flash of red-rimmed eyes before he slipped the glasses on, Paul had been driven to tears by whatever his father had told him.

"What happened? Is there any way out of this?" I asked when he climbed in. Something had shifted once I'd left them alone. I was sure of it.

"One way. But I will never ever consider it. It's back to a Plan B, Dana. I'm not sure what that looks like yet. When I know, so will you."

"Are you okay?" I don't know why I even asked that question. He obviously wasn't. His dad had likely come to the same conclusion I had. There was no way to prevent what was happening between Luke and me other than sheer avoidance. Paul was either going to have to stand by and let it happen or figure out this Plan B of his.

"Never better," he said, but his words were thick and choked with emotion that he was holding back. Words that had all the hallmarks of a lie.

"What are you thinking?" I asked. You've never hidden from me before."

"It's just, with the baby, with us, I'm even less comfortable with you having an other-worldly link with my brother which manifests in sexy time in your heads. Holy Hell, I'll never let either of you sleep again. But it's a problem, and I am a problem solver."

"That's it? Are you okay with this until we get whatever this thing is between me and Luke sorted? No tantrums. Nothing?"

"I'm not fine. Vegemite is fine, but I'm accepting that some things I can't control—like pizza with pineapple. I won't give up on finding a solution."

His fingers tapped on the steering wheel until he clocked me staring and picked up my hand instead, his other on the wheel.

Paul cleared his throat. "Dana, random question. That's not to say I wouldn't have thought about it in the future, but my whole timeline just took a beating." His nerves were clear in the tightening of his lips.

"What is it?"

There was a pause before he said, "Marry me?"

"What?"

"Seriously, marry me?"

For a long moment, I just stared at him. The boy clearly wasn't joking.