Dimitris's hands dropped down to cradle the curve of her, fingers spread wide, trembling.
She felt his breath against her skin. Hot. Ragged. He was breathing like he'd been running.
"I'm losing my mind," he said into her belly, the words muffled and raw. "Do you understand? I am genuinely, completely losing my mind over you, and I have tried god, Felicity, I have tried so hard to be reasonable about this."
One of the cubs kicked, hard, right against the place where his forehead rested. Dimitri went utterly still. Then a sound came out of him, half laugh, half sob, that made her chest crack open.
"Four cubs," he whispered. "You're carrying four cubs, and every single one of them is going to be born into a world that wants to eat them alive. And I."
His hands tightened on her hips. Not painfully. Possessively. The way someone holds something they've already decided they would die before surrendering.
