I heaved myself up from the couch for what felt like the hundredth time today, my back screaming in protest. At just over five months pregnant with a werewolf baby, I looked like I was carrying triplets and ready to pop any second.
"Need help?" Kaelen asked from the doorway, those green eyes watchful as always.
"No, I've got it," I insisted, wadding toward the bathroom yet again. "Your son has decided my bladder is his personal squeeze toy."
My mate chuckled, but I caught the concern in his gaze. I couldn't blame him. The past month and a half had been grueling.
"I swear Rhys gets bigger by the hour," I grumbled, one hand supporting my enormous belly. "I'm convinced he's going to be born wearing a letterman jacket and shaving."
Once I returned from the bathroom, I found Kaelen had prepared a small fortress of pillows on the couch for me. The sight of this powerful Alpha King fluffing cushions made my heart squeeze with affection.
