Wanted Man (Loki Fanfiction - Book #1)

Chapter Twenty-Five

The television flickered softly in the darkness, but Loki paid little attention to the football game. He didn't really understand football, but it was fast-paced, with a lot of hitting, so it appealed to him. McKenna, to his surprise, knew a great deal about it, and possessed endless patience when it came to answering his many questions.

Endless patience.

She'd shown it toward him ever since June. Four months later and he still peppered her with questions about life on Midgard. Hopefully he showed the same endless patience whenever she asked him about Asgard and his past.

He glanced down at McKenna, curled up against him, her head resting at the juncture of his shoulder and chest. She'd fallen back to sleep a few minutes into the second quarter of the game. He didn't mind being used as a pillow. At least this way, if she had another nightmare, he would be right there.

His hand slid down over her to curve about her belly, which was rounder these days. He didn't dare mention it, as her emotions simmered so close to her surface these days. Hormones, she said. Apparently they ran riot in a pregnant woman. She would laugh one minute, and be sobbing the next, and even she didn't know why.

But that curve, that roundness, beckoned to him in a way he never thought it would. He smiled at the gentle fluttering beneath his hand. Awestruck. That was the only way to describe the magnitude of the feeling that flooded him when he felt that movement. There were no other words to describe the amazement in knowing he and the woman beside him created a new life together. What greater gift could ever exist?

And to her credit, McKenna took everything in her stride. She had no idea just how in awe of her he was right now. With each day, she became more beautiful, she practically glowed these days. The mother of his child.

The love of his life.

He smiled at the television screen. It sounded so sappy, as McKenna would say, and yet that was how he felt. Everything that happened, every good thing, every evil thing, all happened in order to lead him to the one place where he knew he was supposed to be. It all added up to this very moment, where everything was as it should be, and there was no place else he would want to be.

So then why couldn't he sleep?

McKenna wasn't the only one having nightmares. The past three nights, he closed his eyes and drifted off, only to awaken an hour or so later sweating and panting, his heart racing even faster than his mind. And the dream was always the same—

The Other.

A baby's wail.

McKenna's scream.

But the Other was dead. Loki stabbed him himself.

But he never actually saw the creature die.

And Loki knew a death could be faked by one who knew how.

He felt another flutter and smiled again. His son. Or maybe his daughter. Amazing, really, no matter how he looked at it. An accident, yes, but a happy one.

The next child would not be an accident. Neither would any other children they would have, for he fully intended to make sure there were more.

McKenna stirred, lifting her head and wincing as she rubbed her neck. "What time is it?"

"Almost four."

She looked up at him, blinking sleep from her eyes. "Aren't you tired?"

"A little, but you looked too peaceful to disturb."

Her smile was sleepy. That, combined with her heavy-lidded eyes and tousled blonde hair, gave her a disheveled look he found utterly adorable. "You should have disturbed me, Loki."