Wanted Man (Loki Fanfiction - Book #1)

Chapter Twenty-One

As McKenna slept, Loki held her close, stroking her soft blonde hair, and just gazed down at her. He was tired from the journey to Midgard, but he didn't want to miss one moment of being reunited with her, even if she was asleep. His beautiful Midgardian.

His McKenna.

His fingers lingered over her belly. A child. He smiled at the very idea. McKenna already agreed to marry him, she still wore the ring he'd given her.

A child just made their union that much stronger.

He hadn't missed how tired McKenna seemed. Although she smiled and her face lit up when she saw him and not Thor standing in her apartment, she couldn't hide the purplish smudges beneath her eyes. If the last eight weeks had been difficult on him, they'd been pure hell on her and he vowed to pamper her as best he could. As his wife, she would want for nothing and he meant to see to it that she let him take care of her. For once, someone else would care for her instead of her caring for them.

What would Odin do, if he knew McKenna was about to bear Loki's child? Loki wasn't so sure he wanted to think about what might happen. It was entirely possible Odin would send someone after the child, or even McKenna, to ensure the baby was never born.

Without thinking, Loki tightened his hold on McKenna. "I won't let that happen," he whispered into the darkness.

"Let what happen?" McKenna murmured in a thick, sleepy voice.

"Hush, love," he smoothed his hand over her hair, "and go back to sleep. I didn't meant to wake you."

"Mmmm..." she whispered, her eyes closing once more.

As her breathing grew deep and even once more, he closed his eyes, letting his imagination wander. A girl would be nice, but if he was honest, what man didn't wish for a son? But if they were to have a daughter, he would love her no less. And unlike his own father (stepfather?) he would never lie to his child. Their son or daughter would never know betrayal like the one he'd suffered at Odin's hands.

And of course, he loved the idea of passing on his gifts for magic and mischief (not his most evil mischief, of course. A father had to have some secrets, after all.)

McKenna sighed in her sleep and he pulled her closer still. Her body was warm and soft against his, her skin smooth and he couldn't resist touching her. Impossible. If she was beyond his arm's reach, she was too far away from him and that had to be remedied as soon as possible. He would never grow tired of touching her, of holding her, of the feel of her skin against his. Every night would end this way, with her falling asleep in his arms and him marveling over the fact that, of all the men in the world-in all the realms, really, he was the one she chose to love.

"And I will do everything in my power to make you happy," he murmured, smoothing her hair away from her forehead. "I promise you this, love. Everything."

It was the first time in a long time that he was more concerned with someone else's happiness before his own. Although he still considered himself the rightful king of Asgard, he was more than willing to put aside his desire to claim his rightful throne. At least for now. McKenna, and their child, would come first. But when the time was right...

Now, however he was more concerned with the woman lying in his arms. It was a nice feeling, wanting only to take care of her. His one regret was that Frigga was not there to ever meet McKenna. He would have taken great pride in introducing McKenna to her. And she would have been beside herself to know a grandchild was imminent. It probably would have amused her that he was the one to give her that grandchild as well.