Page 44 of Bred By the Beast

Then of course, the problem. Alder had gotten into his head. Now as he looked at his woman, and the fact she grew bigger every single day concerned him. That worry was becoming bone-deep, and he couldn’t ignore it.

She was getting bigger and bigger, month by month. Their baby was growing, and she glowed. There were some nights he woke up in a cold sweat, because of the nightmares he had. The fear his child might tear through his woman’s body, killing her, terrified him. He found it hard to focus, and he knew he was upsetting Poppy with his lack of communication. What was he supposed to tell his woman? Pregnancy was an amazing time, a beautiful experience. Not one filled with fear as every second passed.

He didn’t go looking for Alder. Instead, he did something he hadn’t done in a very long time. He went in search of his parents’ belongings, looking for any source of diary, or anything that might help him to think, or figure this shit out.

Nothing was helping. His parents didn’t keep any journals, no notes of passing pregnant females. Many days Poppy was busy with the garden, as she’d taken to wild living so beautifully. Some mornings, he’d come back and find her canning and preserving their fruits and vegetables. They had yet to go into town, but they would need to soon, as they were getting low on staples. He’d make the trip alone as he didn’t want to worry Poppy with the poachers or push her body too hard in her condition.

Wilder stood out on the porch as Poppy’s arms circled his waist. “You know, you’re not fooling anyone,” Poppy said.

He tensed up.

“You’re wanting to go to the store without me because you’re worried I’m going to do too much.”

He turned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You’re right. That’s it.”

“Don’t worry. I know we’re going to need some stuff soon. I don’t mind staying here. I’m going to harvest some more pumpkins, and then I’ll grab the last of the cabbages. I’m thinking tonight we could have a hearty soup, what do you think?” she asked, moving away from him to grab her basket.

She was dressed in a flannel shirt and a large pair of sweats he’d gotten for her. She looked so cute with her Wellington boots, and she had a handkerchief on her head, holding her hair back. Poppy looked every part the country girl—ready, prepared, and pregnant.

Poppy reached out and took his hand. “You do know it’s going to be all right,” she said.

This was his curse. It had to be. He’d never cared about humans, and in fact, didn’t even feel guilty about killing them, yet he was looking at his woman, his reason for getting up in the morning, and breathing. She could die, and it might be all his fault.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m feeling great,” Poppy said. “But watch this.” She called him over as they made their way toward the bees.

Usually, Poppy made him go straight ahead so they knew not to sting her, however, fear gripped him as she stood amongst the bees, and there was not a sting at all. They treated her as if she were a bear.

“How cool is that?” Poppy asked.

She stepped away. “I don’t like to get too close, just in case they change their mind.” She let out a giggle. “I figure they’ve come to realize I’m not going to hurt them. What do you think?”

His child was stopping them from hurting her.

His child was a bear.

He had to be cursed to finally find love, and now, it was going to be stripped away.

“Wilder, are you okay?” Poppy asked. “I thought you would love this because it means I can help you out a lot more.” She moved to step in front of him.

“I’ve got to head into town,” he said. “There are a few supplies we need.” He looked at her, and then closed the distance, gripping the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. His son or daughter was growing, and they were a bear. His baby was going to kill his only love.

He reluctantly pulled away, and made his way toward his truck, which he only ever took out for special occasions. Climbing into the truck, he took off, getting onto the main road, and then drove all the way toward the main grocery store, only he didn’t stop there. He kept driving.

For over an hour he drove before finally pulling up in the middle of nowhere. There were no passing cars or trucks, or pedestrians. He’d come to this place many times, as it was on the verge, where you could see the forest far and wide. From this angle, it didn’t look scary. It looked ... peaceful. No one knew of the dangers lurking beneath when you were standing on the outskirts looking in.

Wilder lived for this, he relished it. This was his life. This was who he was. There was no shame in it. And yet, he felt so fucking angry. Finally, he found a woman that was all his, and he had no way of knowing if she was going to survive the pregnancy. How could he love a child that killed its mother?

Wilder did something he hadn’t done since he was a lot younger and lost his mother. Tears gathered in his eyes, blurring his vision. He couldn’t tell Poppy the truth. It would scare her, and she needed to be afraid, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not to her. It wasn’t right. Nor was it fair. He loved her more than anything in the world, and she was going to be taken from him.

Life was so fucking cruel.

****

Poppy was not an idiot, nor a fool. The way Wilder reacted with the bees told her all she needed to know. The bees’ newfound liking to her was not because she was kind to them. The baby inside her was changing her.

She had the morning sickness, the aching body, the sore breasts, and the cravings. Wow, the cravings were something strange. She wanted peanut butter spread over a steak with lots of whipped cream. There was even a hint of chocolate sauce as well. This would make total sense if it was to go with ice cream. She didn’t want the ice cream. Her only interest was the steak. It made no sense to her, yet that was exactly what she wanted. They were just some of the mild cravings she got. Never mind the honey. Now she understood Wilder’s infatuation with it.