It couldn’t be possible.
He had fathered a child. But in all his years as a vampire, he had never mated until now. Stepping away, he paced back and forth around the bed, unable to decide his next course of action. His mate was pregnant. A smile played across his lips as he let that fact sink in and quickly it turned into a sharp frown. Flicking his gaze over Isabella, he wished she would wake up. A million questions thundered around in his mind.
Did she know?
Had she been pregnant before the transformation?
He knew that was impossible. Removing his coat, he slung it over the back of the armchair a short distance from the bed and slumped down, crossing his leg to rest on his knee as he watched her. Few vampires became pregnant and even less carried to term. Many died in childbirth. He needed to get her seen by a proper doctor. The witches would not have a clue. He rested his head back on the chair and shut his eyes, thinking back to his first wife and his sweet boys.
Their smiles and laughter wafted around like the ghosts they were. He was going to be a father, again. Right now, everything was in chaos. Gabriel was trying to oust him and the Morrigan was waging war. If anyone knew about Isabella, she would be another pawn in this twisted game. A way to hurt him. This was all his fault. All because he couldn’t resist her. He bolted out of the chair and rushed to her side.
“Wake up. Isabella, come on.” He shook her.
She stirred, opening her eyes, which flared wide as soon as they realized who was disturbing her, and she shoved him away. Pulling the sheet over herself, she sat up and glared at him.
“We need to leave, right now. It’s not safe here,” he said.
“I’m not going anywhere with you. Just leave me alone. I can manage on my own.”
He flew in front of her. “Really?” Roman sniffed the air and glanced over at the bedside table, noting the clear glass with a yellow grainy liquid in it, and walked over to it. The smell of ginger percolated from the cup and he spun around as she stood up, tucking the sheet around herself. He strolled over and lifted her chin, staring at her pale face decorated with dark shadows. “When did you last feed?”
Isabella twisted away from him and rubbed her forehead. “I...” She blinked. “I’m not sure. I’ve been tired, not hungry.”
“I see—well, either you get dressed, Isabella, right now, or I will carry you as you are,” he said in a steady but determined voice.
“You wouldn’t dare!” Isabella tightened the hold on the sheet and jumped up from the bed.
“Do I look as if I’m joking?” Roman watched as she eyed the door, ready to pounce and capture her if she attempted to leave.
They were wasting time.
She hissed at him but spun away into the adjoining bathroom. Two minutes later, Isabella reappeared, looking somewhat more herself, with her hair tied back into a tight ponytail, wearing loose sweats and a T-shirt, minus any makeup. When she gathered her phone from the table, he guided her outside, happy. She was complying, but he sensed it was because she lacked the energy to fight more than anything else.
“What other symptoms have you had?” he asked as they strolled through the dark house. The floorboards creaked underfoot.
“Symptoms? What do you mean? I’m not ill, Roman. Just exhausted,” she snapped as she opened the front door.
A wind chime jangled on the porch, and Roman flew in front, stretching his arm out to shield her from the four male vampires on the sidewalk. Raising his nose to the air, he estimated a further two were in the trees that edged the park, waiting. Before he could speak, Isabella hissed and whizzed past, charging at the nearest one and slashing his throat with her hand. Being the oldest, and fastest, he made quick work of destroying the first vampire who charged at him, stabbing him right in the heart before clutching the neck of the second creature, keeping his eyes zeroed on the fight taking place to his left.
“Who sent you? Tell me?” Roman asked as he squeezed the vamp’s neck.
“You won’t win… You’re too l...ate... T...he…oth...ers know.” The creature spluttered and hissed as he struggled, but he was no match for Roman, and he snapped his neck before thrusting his blade into the vampire’s chest, turning him to dust. Switching around, he darted toward his mate, who was held still by the remaining vampire.
She smiled right at him before kicking the man in the groin and slipping free. Twisting around, she jumped on the vampire’s back, grabbed his neck, and twisted until it snapped. As the vampire dropped to his knees, Roman delivered the final blow, ending his existence.
Facing the road, he eyed the trees. Sensing they were now alone, he grabbed her hand, impatient to leave. The vampire’s words haunted him. The others know. Instinct led him to believe the vampire meant they knew about Isabella.
“That was foolish—” he said but Isabella interrupted.
“There you go again. If you’re not dictating to me, you’re being patronizing. Let. Me. Go.” Isabella fought him, slapping and kicking.
“Shit—calm down, my love. You always rush in. I was going to add that you amaze me with your fearlessness. Maybe it’s your protective instinct coming out because you’re pregnant, but watching you in action captivates me like nothing I’ve ever witnessed before.”
After he finished, they stood nose to nose, with her full pink lips parted, ready for him to devour.
“Did you say pregnant?”
Roman brushed his fingers across her lips, wanting to taste her. “Vampires never feel exhausted. I suspect you’ve been
