As I watched Seraphina disappear into the back seat of my SUV, an unexpected sensation washed over me—satisfaction. My wolf preened with primal pleasure at bringing the mother of our pup to our territory.
*Mine now. Safe.*
I slid in beside her, careful not to crowd her small frame. Even so, her scent filled the enclosed space—honey, vanilla, and something uniquely her that made my wolf pace restlessly. The subtle changes pregnancy had already made to her body—the fuller breasts, the slight rounding of her abdomen—were hardly noticeable to human eyes but impossible for me to miss.
"How far is your house?" she asked, breaking the silence as we pulled away from her apartment building.
"About forty minutes," I replied, noting how her fingers clutched that worn stuffed rabbit. A childhood memento that my investigator had neglected to mention. "You might want to rest. You look tired."
She stiffened. "I'm fine."
