“Hope Dad and Moose behave,” she kept muttering. “Barb might spell them bald and impotent if they don’t.”

Abel’s body started shaking with laughter.

Delilah snuggled closer, resting her cheek to his chest and stopping her hand in order to wrap her arm around his stomach.

“You wanna ride out the next day?” she asked.

He did.

Absolutely.

For months, they’d rode.

They did it from place to place. To visit Lucien and Leah. Jian-Li and his brothers. Cain and Teona. Or just places one or the other of them wanted to see.

And in that time, Abel had stood at the back of a roadhouse outside Austin, sipping beer, watching his mate scream and shout and dance with abandon to live music.

They’d also stood on the top of a cliff in northern California, holding hands, jumping off together, and falling straight into the salty, warm waters of the sea.

And she’d sat on his lap while trying to break the record of eating forty Coney dogs (she lost, she only could hold down fifteen) at some place outside Philly.

They’d fucked on the beach in the moonlight in South Carolina.

They’d sat in a speedboat Lucien drove fast on Dragon Lake next to the house he shared with Leah, Abel holding Delilah close, Delilah having both arms in the air most of the time, screaming in glee.

They’d sat at table after table with those they loved, eating, talking, sharing, laughing, dream after dream coming true as he’d seen his mate sitting back, chopsticks in her hand, boots on the table, teasing Jian-Li.

They were going to Scotland after Yuri and Aurora’s Claiming Ceremony to spend Christmas with Sonia and Callum and their family.

While doing all of this, they were often recognized practically everywhere they went.

But they’d found, surprisingly, and gratefully, that this was always respectful.

Always.

Someone might approach but only to say “thank you” or ask to shake Abel’s hand or give Delilah a hug.

Mostly, they just got nods or smiles.

The others reported they experienced the same.

So nothing marred their eternity of adventure.

Nothing marred their wild and free.

“Baby?” Delilah called into his contented thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Wolf traits won out.”

His brows drew together as he dipped his chin.

She slid her cheek on his chest to look up at him.

“What?”

“They’re prolific,” she whispered, and his entire frame strung taut.

“What?” This word came out on a sharp breath.

“I’m sure you want a girl you can spoil rotten. But I want a boy with two-colored eyes and—”

She didn’t finish because she was on her back, bearing his weight, taking his tongue in her mouth.

When he broke their kiss, his voice was hoarse when he asked, “You havin’ my baby?”

She nodded.

Abel stared into her green eyes that were filled with love and joy.

His mate.

His woman.

His temptress.