WILLOW
Gray strolled into the room the next morning, making me startle awake. A pair of gray sweatpants were slung low on his hips. There
was a breakfast tray in his hands, an ornate wooden thing that was carved immaculately and definitely hadn’t come from the school dining hall.
I adjusted the bedding around my waist as I settled in more comfortably, staring down at the variety of fruit and pastries he’d put onto plates for us.
“Good morning, my love,” he said, leaning forward to touch his mouth to my forehead gently. The touch was so sweet that I hated to break the moment, stunned into silence by his thoughtfulness in bringing me breakfast.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I said, reaching for a glass of water. I took a few sips, letting it cool my throat which felt too warm. I didn’t know what to do with this version of Gray, with the kind gestures that were so out of character compared to what I had gotten used to.
“I wanted to,” he said, reaching for a strawberry. He bit into the fruit, my eyes tracking the movement of his mouth around the plump skin. I was ashamed of the way I reacted to something that should have been so innocent, yet there was one realization that was more important than my own hormones.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat,” I said, the observation making him chuckle.
“I don’t need to, although that doesn’t necessarily mean I can’t either,” he said, finishing off his strawberry and depositing the stem onto the tray. “I like ripe fruit in particular.”
“Don’t be disgusting,” I said, rolling my eyes as I reached for a chunk of pineapple.
I popped it into my mouth, chewing slowly as I used the time to consider how to broach this conversation. I typically didn’t care if what I said pissed off Gray or led to a fight, but this new ground where we were attempting an actual relationship made me uneasy.
Normal couples didn’t want to fight.
Were Gray and I even capable of peace?
“Just say it, Witchling,” he said, raising his brow as he watched me chew. I flushed, irritated with how he seemed to see right through me. He always knew when something was on my mind, and I wished I had the same ability to read him.
“Why didn’t you say anything about being able to have children?” I asked after I swallowed.
He took a seat on the bed, leaning back on one of his arms as he settled in. There was an ease to his posture that told me he’d known this conversation was coming after his revelation the night before. “I know you’re taking the tonic,” he said, surprising me. I hadn’t taken it in front of him, being that it had always just been a part of my morning routine on the first of the month. “It didn’t seem like we needed to have a conversation about it in the meantime. Not when our relationship was so complicated as it was.”
I paused, hating that our history meant I had to question him. I needed to know the truth, especially since I knew exactly what he was capable of. “So you didn’t keep it from me in the hopes I would stop taking my tonic thinking we were safe?”
Gray chuckled, shaking his head. It wasn’t a mocking laugh like I’d expected, but one that warmed my skin. “No, Willow. When I want you pregnant, I’ll make you perfectly aware of my intentions.” He picked up one of the berries, but instead of raising it to his own mouth, he guided it to my own. The tip pressed against my lips, and I spread them open slowly to allow him to offer me a bite. With his intoxicating stare on me, I couldn’t help the heat that prickled the back of my neck.
I chewed and swallowed, holding his gaze. “When you want me pregnant? What about what I want?” I asked, feigning indifference even though his answer mattered greatly to me. I’d spent my life knowing the Coven would see me as nothing but a breeder, a bloodline to continue a
legacy. His words the night before had struck the fear in me that I’d escaped one person who wanted that for me only to jump into the fire with another.
“Trust me,” he said, taking my hands in his. He leaned in, and the sincerity shining in his gaze shocked me into silence. Whatever I’d been about to say vanished, so lost to that somber look on his face. “Children are a gift, and I would never force you to have them if you didn’t want them. Not everyone is fit to be a parent, and a lot of the ability to be a good mother comes from the desire to be.”
My throat burned with the threat of tears, thinking of my own mother, who had wanted me more than anything. She’d loved me, really loved me, in spite of the challenges I’d presented her with and the man who hadn’t seen her as anything but something to use.
“Even if I were to decide I don’t want them at all?” I asked, noting the pain of that possibility playing over his face. If there was one thing I knew to be true, it was that Lucifer the Morningstar craved a family of his own more than anything.
His had abandoned him, forcing him to start a new one. He wanted one that couldn’t leave him, that wouldn’t walk away just because they didn’t agree with something he did.
He craved unconditional love, and that innocence which came from the love of a child.
“Even then,” he said, surprising me as he composed himself. “As long as I have you, I can be okay with that decision if I need to be.”
I smiled, my expression softer than usual as I leaned forward and kissed him gently. “I think that was quite possibly the perfect answer.”
He grinned against my mouth, returning my kiss with a gentle peck. “I meant it.”
I pulled back, letting him see how much I meant every word. “I know you did. That’s what made it perfect.”
