Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 224

Epilogue 1- Skye

Four Months Later

I’m six months pregnant and I can’t believe how different the experience has been this time around. I love my son and I wouldn’t change anything about him, including the circumstances around his conception. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying this pregnancy so much more.

With Benji, I spent the entire pregnancy managing everyone’s feelings about it-the pack’s surprise, Jaxon’s absence, the shame and embarrassment of being visibly pregnant while simultaneously navigating a divorce. I was thrilled to be pregnant and also miserable.

This time I’m just pregnant. And I’ve stopped apologizing for taking up space. Not that either of my mates would let me. I tried apologizing to Jaxon for bumping into him with my belly yesterday and he threatened to spank me for it, which Nicolai found thoroughly amusing.

As it turns out, having two mates to spoil and pamper you while you’re busy growing a human is a game-changer. It makes being so big, constantly too warm and having my body hijacked by a little person who dictates my sleep position and makes bruising my ribs into a sport almost enjoyable.

“Stop that,” I reprimand my unborn child, gasping for the air she just knocked out of my lungs.

She just kicks again in response, this time aiming for my ribcage. I groan, shifting around until I find a more comfortable position.

“She has your stubbornness,” Nicolai chuckles from beside me. He’s reading-or was reading, before he apparently decided watching me argue with my own abdomen was more interesting.

“She has your stubbornness,” I scowl at him. “You’re the one who can’t let anything go.”

“I let things go.” He argues.

“Name one.” I challenge, because apparently I’m the one who can’t let things go in this scenario.

He thinks about this with the expression he gets when he knows he’s beaten but refuses to admit defeat. “I let you plan the garden without input.”

“No. You pretended to let me plan while constantly making suggestions and not actually letting me lift a finger.”

“Suggestions. Not directives.” He shrugs, like that proves his point completely.

I turn to look at him, which is no small feat these days. He’s in the armchair by the window in our room, his reading glasses on and the moonlight catching in the strands of his hair. He looks exactly like what he is: a man completely at home in his life.

The sight of him still does something to me. Almost two years since I first walked into his house, pregnant and alone and staring down a future that looked like nothing I could map.

“Come here.” He rumbles, his Alpha fully present. I have every intention of obeying but deciding he doesn’t need to know that. Not yet anyway.

I consider him from my position on the bed. “I’m comfortable.”

“You’ve resorted to arguing with the baby. I think you need a distraction.”

“What do you plan to distract me with, Alpha?” I push a little further, testing my limits.

“Come here, Skye.” He growls this time, not to be ignored.

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I go. Not because he asked-because I want to, which is the whole of it, has always been the whole of it. I settle against him in the armchair that is not quite big enough for both of us and he makes room without comment, his hand moving to my stomach in the way it does now. Automatic. His.

“She’s going to have your hair,” he runs his hair through my long, brown curls while nibbling at his bite on my neck.

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that I want her to.” He brushes his lips along my neck, my jaw, my ear, until I’m squirming in his lap. She can have your stubbornness too. I’ve developed a tolerance for it.”

“High praise.” I breathe, more of a moan.

“From me? Yes.” He purrs. “But only for you, my Moonbeam.”

The baby moves under his hand. He goes still like he can’t bear to miss a second of it-giving his complete attention, taking it in.

“There,” I move his hand around my belly, following her movements.

“There,” he agrees, his voice taking on that raspy quality that betrays his emotions.

We sit in the armchair that isn’t quite big enough, alternating between kissing and feeling our baby move until Jaxon finally joins us.

“Benji’s monitor’s on,” he informs us. “I’ve got overnight if he wakes.”

“He slept through last night,” I say, all three of us sighing in relief at the idea of our son finally giving us a full night’s rest.

“He’s taunting us. Giving us time to remember what sleep feels like just before the new baby comes.” He teases, looking hungrily at us in the armchair. “You look comfortable.”

“We are,” Nicolai agrees.

“Jaxon.” I reach toward him and he comes readily, kneeling in front of me and wedging his wide frame between Nicolai’s spread legs.

Taking my face in his hands, he presses gentle kisses to my lips. Slowly, his hands trail down my curves to settle on my bump, massaging in slow circles while Nicolai presses his thumbs into my lower back. I moan into his mouth, melting into him.

Jaxon deepens the kiss and I rock over Nicolai’s hard shaft, my whole body lighting up like a livewire. The hormone spikes have been intense this time around, leaving me a horny, needy mess more often than not. A problem my men are more than happy to help me with.

Nicolai’s hands slide to my hips, helping me to find the friction I suddenly need like my next breath. Jaxon is just slipping his hand under my skirt, his fingers seeking out my aching nub, when the baby mounts yet another internal assault and I wince.

“Did she move?” Jaxon halts his progress toward clit at the same time Nicolai stills my hips, both of them suddenly more interested in my stomach than the more intimate parts of me.

“She’s a little tyrant,” I whine, pouting at the interruption.

“She comes by it honestly,” he returns.

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Nicolai makes a sound that is not quite a laugh and not quite agreement. I look between them-these two men

who have become, in their own way, each other’s family. Who defied the odds to make a life that is fully,

completely ours.

“I love you,” I tell Jaxon, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion.

I fight back tears, but one falls anyway. Stupid pregnancy hormones. Jaxon reaches up to brush it away with his thumb.

“I know,” he smiles. “I love you too.”

I look at Nicolai over my shoulder. “I love you too,” I cup his cheek and he leans in to peck my lips.

“Obviously.” He smirks.

“So gracious,” I roll my eyes at him, the effect of which is ruined by me sniffling.

“That is gracious,” he chuckles, kissing me again. “For me.”

Jaxon makes a sound. Nicolai sniggers at him. Something passes between them-that thing that I’ve been watching them do for months. Not friendship. Something more than that. Something I have a feeling means I’m in big trouble when they decide to gang up on me.

“I’m going to check on Benji,” Jaxon says. His hand squeezes mine before releasing. “Get some sleep.”

He kisses my forehead then goes to check on our son, his nightly routine. Nicolai cradles me in his arms, lifting us both with his powerful thighs, and carries me to bed. He settles me in the center and snuggles up behind me so he can cradle my belly with his arm, leaving space for Jaxon to cuddle me from the other side when he joins us.

“Tell me something,” I whisper into the quiet.

“Tell you what?” He murmurs, his face buried in my hair.

“Anything. I just want to hear your voice.”

He’s quiet for a moment in the way that means he’s actually thinking about it. Jaxon returns and Nicolai waits until he crawls into bed and wraps himself around me. Then he speaks.:

“I’m glad,” he says. “Everything it cost and everything it took and all the parts I didn’t plan for.” He pulls me closer. “I’m so glad.”

I put my hand over his on my belly and Jaxon puts his over mine.

“Me too.” Jaxon adds.

“Me too,” I tell them both.

We fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Cara Anderson Author

Thank you for reading!

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