Chapter 214

Iris

The ranch feels different in winter. The rolling hills that were once lush and green are now gray, but somehow even more beautiful. The stables are quiet, the horses tucked away in their warm stalls. The cold air smells like woodfire smoke and pine.

I stand on the porch of the cabin, wrapped in one of Arthur’s thick sweaters, watching as my mate and son make their way toward the line of trees at the edge of the property. Miles is running ahead, full of boundless energy despite a day spent flying.

For a moment, I linger behind, just taking it all in. I watch Arthur and Miles laugh and run together, smell the sweet winter air, listen to the breeze rustling through the trees. This is exactly what we needed.

And soon, I think with a small smile, placing my hand on my stomach, there will be one more member of this family soon to enjoy this place with us.

I haven’t told Arthur yet. I’ve been waiting for the right moment, and somehow, telling him on the eve of the Winter Solstice seems perfect.

“Mommy!” Miles calls, waving frantically from the tree line. “Come help us pick the perfect tree!”

I wave back, laughing. “Coming!”

Without further hesitation, I make my way across the yard. There’s no snow yet, but we’ll likely wake up to a winter wonderland tomorrow.

“What about this one?” Miles asks as I reach them, pointing to a small, scraggly pine that’s barely taller than he is.

“It’s a bit small, don’t you think?” I chuckle.

Miles considers this, his head tilting to one side, then the other. “Maybe. But we could put it on a table to make it taller.”

Arthur laughs. “Let’s look a bit more before we decide, little wolf. We want a tree that will hold lots of decorations.”

We wander deeper into the woods, Miles running ahead to inspect every pine tree we pass. Some are too tall to fit in the cabin. Some are too sparse. Some are perfect, but Miles insists we keep looking, clearly enjoying the adventure more than the destination.

Finally, after nearly an hour of searching, we find a beautiful spruce, about seven feet tall, with full, even branches. “This is the one,” Miles declares.

Arthur positions himself at the base of the tree with the axe he brought. “Stand back,” he says, and Miles and I retreat to a safe distance.

Miles and I watch as Arthur begins to cut through the trunk. Each strike of the axe sends wood chips flying. Miles gasps, looking at Arthur like he’s a superhero. As for me, I’m just appreciating the way his muscles ripple with each movement.

These pregnancy hormones are going to make me fucking insatiable.

“Will I be able to cut down trees when I’m bigger?” Miles asks me.

“If that’s what you want to do,” I tell him. “You’ll be strong like your dad someday.”

Miles beams at that and puffs out his chest. “I’m already strong,” he insists. “Watch!” He picks up a fallen branch from the ground and holds it over his head, like I don’t see his small arms shaking.

“Very impressive,” I agree, hiding my smile behind one of the red mittens Augustine knitted for me.

A final crack signals that Arthur has cut through the trunk. The tree sways, then falls with a soft whoosh into the snow. Arthur whirls around to grin at us, looking just as proud as Miles with his little stick.

Together, the three of us drag the tree back to the cabin. By the time we reach the porch, we’re all breathing hard, both from exertion and laughter.

Inside, the cabin is warm and cozy, the fireplace already crackling with a fire I built before we left. Arthur sets up the tree in the stand while Miles and I get started on the decorations.

Over the next few hours, I show Miles how to make cranberry and popcorn garlands, although he eats most of the popcorn when he thinks I’m not looking. Arthur hangs boughs of pine around the windows and doorframes. Finally, we hang ornaments on the tree and wrap colorful lights around the branches.

By dinnertime, the cabin has been transformed for the holiday. It’s chaotic, but in the best sort of way. I take a few minutes to take it all in, already picturing what future holidays will look like with another child in the mix. If the second one comes out like Miles, Arthur and I will have our work cut out for us.

After that, we move to the kitchen, where the three of us work together to prepare our feast. Arthur handles the roast, seasoning it with herbs and sliding it into the oven. I peel potatoes for mashing, while Miles helps wash the vegetables for the side dishes.

It’s ordinary and messy and absolutely wonderful.

By the time dinner is ready, the sun has set, leaving the world outside in darkness save for the reflection of the moon on the snow. We eat at the long dining table, the room illuminated only by candles, the tree lights, and the glow from the fireplace. Miles chatters about what he hopes to find under the tree on Solstice morning, while Arthur and I exchange knowing glances over his head.

After dinner, we make sugar cookies. Icing and sprinkles end up everywhere, but the resulting cookies, while not exactly pretty, are delicious.

Finally, it’s time for bed. Miles protests, as he always does, but it’s half-hearted. He’s tired from our long day, and I know he’ll knock out the second his head hits the pillow.

And he does. Arthur hasn’t even finished reading his story before Miles is snoring. A few minutes later, back in the main room, Arthur adds another log to the fire while I pour us each a glass of mulled cider—non-alcoholic for me, although Arthur doesn’t know that.

“It’s starting to snow,” Arthur says, nodding toward the window.

I move to stand beside him, watching as fat, fluffy snowflakes drift down from the dark sky. It’s almost magical, the way they catch the light and the way frost curls across the cabin windows in tiny fractals.

“Perfect timing,” I say. “Miles will be thrilled to have fresh snow in the morning.”

Arthur slips his arm around my waist and me close against his side. “This was a good idea, coming here for the holiday.”

“It was,” I agree, resting my head against his shoulder. “We needed this.”

We stand there in comfortable silence for a while, sipping our drinks and watching the snow fall. The moment feels right—quiet and intimate, illuminated by the soft glow of the fire and the twinkling lights from the tree.

The perfect sort of moment to finally break the news.

“I have something for you,” I say, pulling away slightly. “An early Solstice gift.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow. “I thought we agreed to wait until morning.”

“This one can’t wait,” I tell him with a small smile. “Stay here.”

I hurry to our bedroom, retrieving the small package from my suitcase where I’ve kept it hidden since we arrived. It’s wrapped simply in silver paper with a small gold bow.

When I return, Arthur is still by the window, watching the snow. He turns as I approach and glances at the gift.

“Here,” I say, holding out the package. “Happy Solstice.”

He takes it and weighs it in his hand. “It’s light,” he says, then shakes it by his ear. “No rattling… Smells like paper…”

I smack his arm. “Would you just open it already?”

Grinning impishly, Arthur carefully removes the wrapping paper, revealing the small white stick with its two pink lines. For a moment, he just stares at it in confusion. And then his eyes widen as it hits him.

“Iris,” he breathes, turning to look at me. “Is this…?”

I nod, unable to keep the smile from spreading across my face. “I’m pregnant. Found out last week. We’re having another baby.”

Arthur’s face transforms. He drops the test on the floor and throws his arms around me, pulling me so close and tight I worry he’ll crack one of my ribs with the force of his embrace.

“A baby,” he murmurs against my hair. “Another child. Ours.”

“Due in July, I think,” I say, biting my lower lip. “I haven’t been to the doctor yet, but I think I’m about six weeks along.”

Arthur pulls back just enough to look at my face. “I love you so much,” he says simply. “This is the best gift you could have given me.”

“Better than the new watch I actually got you?” I tease.

He laughs. “Much better. Although I’ll take the watch too.” Then, without warning, he scoops me into his arms and cradles me against his chest.

“What are you doing?” I ask, laughing.

“Taking my mate to bed,” Arthur says, already carrying me toward our room. “To properly celebrate this news.”