28: THIRD TRIMESTER

Marisol sat up from a shooting pain up her back. She winced, feeling the little kicks of her babies against her ribs.

"Marisol, what is it?"

Greyson sat up, kissing her shoulder as she felt another contraction. She grabbed his hand, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm okay," she whispered. "I think it's just another Braxton."

"Marisol, you've had them for hours. I'm going to go get Cal."

"H-he's still here?"

"Yes, my parents asked him to stay for a few days. Stay here, okay," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. He quickly got dressed and left the room. She chuckled as he left her in the dark. It was humorous to her; the people around her always forgot that she wasn't blind anymore. She got up and wobbled her way to the light switch, switching it up. She winced again, taking a break as another hick radiated through her.

She stood up, hearing the door open. As Cal examined her, she realized that the pain was all gone. It felt like a recurring cramp. Her uterus would tighten and then release, and it sucked, but she's been through worse.

"It's another Braxton Hick, I'm afraid. More water would help make them less frequent, but certain exercises will also relieve them."

"I've been chugging water, doc," she whined. "What exercises?"

"You could walk, some basic yoga, but in my experience, and I think Alpha will not mind this, sex tends to work best. It produces the same relief as sex during your period." He chuckled. If that doesn't work, I'm afraid we have to deal with it until you give birth."

Marisol watched as he left. Grey got off the bed and went into the bathroom. He returned with some water and then began getting ready for bed again. He climbed under the covers and turned off the light.

"Woah, Woah, what do you think you're doing?"

"Huh?" He muttered.

It hurt her feelings. She wanted sex. Maybe he didn't find her attractive anymore. Maybe he didn't want her as she wanted him. She shook her head. "Nevermind."

"Marisol, what is it?" He sat up as she laid back down. He turned her to her back and saw tears running down her cheeks. He paled, realizing something upset her. "What did I do?"

"Do you still want me?" She heaved.

"What? Of course I do. Come here," he said, pulling her waist into him. "Wanna have sex?"

She pouted, nodding her head.

❥

Marisol was eating breakfast when Grey walked in with keys. "Are you almost done?"

She smiled as he kissed the top of her head. "Yeah, I'm finished now. Wait, I thought you had some big meeting or something?"

"Something came up. I have to talk to you about something."

She looked at him questioningly before nodding. She asked for his help to stand up. He grabbed her jacket, even though she insisted she was hot. As he led her out of the house, she realized they were getting into his car.

"Wait, where are we going?"

He stayed silent as he opened her door and buckled her in. Going to the driver's seat, he got in and strapped his seatbelt. "There are two things I have to tell you. One bad and the other good. Which do you want first?"

She gulped. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

Grey couldn't look at her. He just stared out of the front window with his arm on the steering wheel as his hand fiddled with the keys. "I've been thinking about when a good time to tell you would be–"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're pregnant. You don't need to be under anymore stress than you are–"

She stopped him then. "It's bad, isn't it?" She didn't wait for an answer. She licked her lips. "I want the good news first. And then you can tell me the sad thing, alright?"

He looked at her then, nodding. He smiled softly, starting the car. They drove down the main road a little before, turning onto the driveway of the house they visited previously. "What?"

He was smiling as he pulled the car to a stop and got out. He helped her out as well and they walked inside to the house being completely empty of furnishing. It was like they were walking into a brand new home.

"You loved this house," he stated. "So I bought it."

"But... I thought," she stopped, turning around to look at the wonderful house. "I thought it was too far out of our land?"

He smirked, shrugging, leaning against the doorframe. "I might have bought the land as well."

"This...you..." She smiled sheepishly, wobbling into his arms. "You shouldn't have had to pay for it all! I have a career! I could afford a part as well."

He rolled his eyes, tugging her hand up the grand stairs. He didn't want her money. He knew that she could afford to, but he didn't want her to. It was a symbol—a symbol of their lives together, as Luna and Alpha.

"Where are you taking me?"

He brought her upstairs to a room next to the master. "I thought this would make a good nursery, and once the kids were old enough, we could make it a walk-in closet for you."

"Oh, you're amazing," she whispered. She looked at the ground and saw a piece of plastic already laid out and paint cans of her nursery colors sat by the window. Along the wall was the furniture they had bought for the babies. "They're going to love this."

"We'll have to make a trail from here to the packhouse, and some nights we may need to stay at the packhouse, but I think it's something we could manage."

She nodded enthusiastically. "Thank you. I love it. I know I can't paint, but we could attempt to put their cribs together."

Well, it was a nice thought, and they did put together one crib, but they ended up unclothed with wet paint on their bare skin.

❥

As he pulled back up to the packhouse, she suddenly remembered that there was bad news. She turned to him to which he sighed and answered honestly.

"The Alpha of Pack Gifre and I reached an agreement."

"Well, that's a good thing, isn't it? That means no war, no–" She stopped seeing his grim expression. "What was the agreement."

"He challenged me, and I accepted."

"W-what? You mean an Alpha challenge? Where both Alphas fight to the death?"

He didn't answer, just had a guilty ass expression on his face. She scoffed, shaking her head. She had never felt such anger. She was furious. Furious that he would be so selfish, so inconsiderate, so...she scoffed again. She pulled the handle of the door and got out, slamming the door shut. She tried to get away from him quickly, but he was much faster than her in her pregnant state, He grabbed her arm to which she pulled away. "Don't you dare!" She pushed him away, stomping into the packhouse.

"Marisol–"

"What!" She screamed, turning around. "What are you going to tell me? That it was your decision? That it was the best decision for the pack? For me? For us?"

"Yes!"

"And where's my input? You said we are partners. That wellbeing of the pack and of us is the responsibility of us both. I should have known! I should have advised you. You're acting as if...as if my opinion doesn't matter."

"It does," he emphasized.

"When? When you want it? When I agree with you? When it doesn't lead to an argument?"

Marisol looked around, seeing that many of the people in the house came out of their rooms from the commotion.

"You know that's not what happened. I value your opinion, but I didn't want you to stress out. Not with the triplets?"

"And you think I'm not stressed out now? I cannot believe you made this decision without me. You made the decision to fight. To the death. But what," her voice broke then. "What happens to the babies and me if you don't come back? What happens to us? To me? You're my mate, Grey. If you die, it doesn't mean I'll be fine; it means I die too. You made this decision for the pack, for me, for the babies, by yourself. It's not just you anymore." Marisol turned to Abigail and Nolan, who also looked guilty. "And you two knew, didn't you? And you never told me."

"He ordered us not to," Abigail said softly.

"And does this order physically inhibit you not to tell me?"

She shook her head again.

"Then where is your fidelity to me. You know what? It's clear that the relationship between the three of you negates any relationship between us. And I get it. You grew up together; he's your Alpha. But I'm your Luna... I deserve..." She stopped then, shaking her head. "I need my people, too. I need people in my corner."

She left the room, going up into his bedroom. Fuck, now she was compartmentalizing everything; either things were his or hers, and in this house, nothing was hers. Her friends weren't hers. Her furniture wasn't hers. The decisions weren't hers.

She went into her closet, grabbing a bag. She called Brad, praying that he was free to hang out. He had been away on vacation ever since Greyson took most of his duties. She was glad he was getting a break, but she missed him, and she had so much to tell him.

"Brad?"

"Oh my fucking God it's my bad bitch. How's your twilight, vampire diaries, Buffy the vampire slayer life going?"

"You got home today, right?"

"Yes, what–"

"I need a girls' night."

"By girls night, you mean where Emilia and I drink wine, and you drink grape juice?"

She laughed on the phone. "Yes. I have a lot to tell you."