The Jaguar’s Arranged Mate

She started to pace, not looking at him, and he figured she wasn’t going to answer him. “Too much,” she finally whispered.

“Let me help you.” He wanted to join her, but he had a feeling she might not appreciate that so he remained sitting.

“I just need some time. To figure everything out.”

“Time is the one thing we don’t have.”

“I know. I realize that.” She took a deep breath and stopped pacing.

“Miera…” He stood and crossed the short distance between them. Before she could move away, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close for a hug.

She struggled against him, pressing her hands against his chest, trying to move away.

“No matter what’s going on with you, I’m here for you,” he whispered. He lowered his head toward hers, not to kiss her, just to get her to look at him. “I know our marriage is for our packs and not for ourselves, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends at least and maybe even something more later.”

“If there is a later,” she said dully. “We’re all going to die. We don’t have the numbers to survive against the Brutal Claws, not even combined. We’re doomed.”

He winced inwardly. “If we don’t stand up to them, we’ll definitely die. At least if we try, we will have honor—”

She recoiled in his arms.

“What is it?” Something major was bothering her. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms to try and console her.

“Please don’t do that.”

He stilled his hands but still touched her. “Why?”

She jerked away from him. “Leave me alone.”

Beric stared at her as she walked away. After a few steps, she ran to a bush, leaned over, and retched.

Immediately, he rushed over to her side, holding back her hair, rubbing her back. Maybe she was sick. That would explain why she was treating him so differently. She didn’t seem at all like the Miera he had been starting to get to know.

When she stopped vomiting, he handed her a few large leaves to wipe her mouth. “Do you need some medicine?” he asked kindly.

“No.” She slowly shook her head.

“Let me help you. Please.” He hated feeling helpless. He needed to be able to do something.

“You can help me by leaving.” Her voice was cold.

She might as well have slapped him. “If you want to blame me for your brother’s death, fine, but we do still have to get married. Our people’s only chance is through a union of our packs.” He wished marriage wasn’t the only way for that to happen, but it was. Without a marriage, when the battle lines were drawn and battalions were formed of mixed pack members, it never ended well. Marriages provided stability, stronger leadership, and something to fight for, to fight for together.

“We will marry. Tomorrow if you want. I don’t care.” She twisted away from him.

“Fine. I’ll come back tomorrow.” He started to walk away even though each step hurt.

“Beric…”

He turned back to see her. She was crying.

Without thinking, he rushed back to her and hugged her tight. Her clothes weren’t as loose fitting as before. Had she gained weight? But her father had said she wasn’t eating. The tighter the hug, the more of her body he could feel pressed against him. Her bre*sts were larger than he recalled, and his manhood stirred the longer they were touching each other.

Beric kissed her forehead. “Whatever is going on with you, we can handle it together.”

“I don’t think so,” she said dully. Her tears had stopped by now, but she almost sounded more sorrowful.

He wiped them away. “Try to trust me.” He moved to pull her close to him again, and his hand brushed against her belly. She felt different. “Tell me, Miera. Let me in.”

She gripped his hand and placed it on her stomach. She didn’t say anything, but tears filled her eyes again although none fell.

He frowned. What was she hinting at?

Then it hit him as if he had been flattened by a semi.

“You’re pregnant,” he said flatly.