All Chapters of THE PREGNANT SHE WOLF: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

SHARON’S POVI stood under the shower spray long after the hot water started to cool, letting it rinse away the last traces of cemetery dust and the salt from all those tears. The house had gone quiet. The children were deep asleep, their small chests rising and falling in perfect rhythm down the hall. Morris had checked on them twice already, tucking blankets higher, kissing foreheads, whispering goodnight even though they couldn’t hear him. I loved the way he did that, quiet, careful, like every second with them was something precious he refused to waste.When I finally turned the faucet off and stepped out, steam curled around my ankles. I wrapped myself in the thick towel he always left hanging on the hook for me, then padded into the bedroom. Morris was already there, shirtless, jeans unbuttoned, sitting on the edge of the mattress with his elbows on his knees. The lamp on his nightstand cast warm gold across his shoulders, highlighting every ridge of muscle, every faint scar t

SHARON’S POV The drive to Jordan Pack felt longer than it should have, even though the distance hadn’t changed. I sat in the passenger seat of the black SUV, hands folded over my belly, watching the familiar landscape roll past—pine thickets giving way to open meadows, then the first stone markers that signaled we were crossing the old border. Morris drove, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on my thigh. He kept the radio off. The children were in the back with Kelly, Daenerys humming softly while Daemon pressed his face to the window and counted every red barn we passed. They didn’t understand what today meant. I wasn’t sure I did either.When the compound gates came into view, my stomach twisted hard. The ironwork looked the same, tall, spiked, imposing, but the guards at the entrance stood straighter, eyes fixed on our vehicle. No one spoke as Kelly slowed and rolled down the window. Harlan waited just inside, flanked by Tomas and two others I recognized from the cemetery.

SHARON’S POVI woke up to sunlight spilling across the bed and the smell of coffee drifting under the door. My body felt heavy in the best way: sore muscles, warm skin, the faint ache between my thighs that reminded me how many times Maurice had taken me last night. I stretched slowly, arms reaching above my head, back arching until my belly lifted off the mattress. The baby kicked once, sharp and demanding, as if telling me to get up already.I smiled, rolled onto my side, and reached for Maurice. His spot was empty but still warm. The pillow smelled like him: cedar, sweat, and that faint trace of mint toothpaste he always used before bed. I pressed my face into it for a second, breathing him in, then pushed the covers back and swung my legs over the edge.The robe I’d worn last night lay crumpled on the floor. I picked it up, slipped it on, tied the belt loosely around my waist, and padded barefoot down the hallway. The house felt different this morning. Not because anything had cha

MORRIS’ POV The hospital room smelled like antiseptic and sweat and the copper edge of blood. Monitors beeped in steady rhythm—too steady, too mechanical—while the doctor and two nurses moved around Sharon like they were trying not to startle her. She lay on the bed, knees bent, face slick with sweat, hair plastered to her temples. Her hands gripped the rails so hard her knuckles blanched white. Every few minutes a contraction rolled through her and she made this low, animal sound that tore straight through my chest.I stood at her head, one hand locked around hers, the other pressing a damp cloth to her forehead. She squeezed my fingers until I felt the bones grind together.“You’re doing so good,” I told her again. My voice sounded thin, like it belonged to someone else. “Almost there, baby. Almost.”She bared her teeth at me. “Don’t—call me baby—right now.”I almost laughed. Almost. Instead I kissed her temple, tasting salt. “Whatever you say, love.”The doctor—Clara, gray braid,

MORRIS’ POV The truck rolled through the gates of Crescent Moon territory just as the sun dipped low enough to paint the sky in streaks of orange and rose. I kept one hand on the wheel and the other resting on Sharon’s knee, thumb brushing slow circles over the blanket tucked around her. She sat in the passenger seat, eyes half-closed, head tipped against the window, but every few seconds she opened them to check the two car seats strapped in the back. Luna slept with her tiny mouth open, one fist curled near her cheek. Elias had his head turned toward his sister, little chest rising and falling in perfect time with hers. Both of them swaddled so tight they looked like small white loaves.Sharon’s voice came out soft, almost a whisper. “They’re still breathing.”I glanced at her. “Still breathing.”She let a small, tired and radiant smile play on her lips, then she squeezed my hand. Kelly followed us in the second vehicle with Daenerys and Daemon. I could see them in the rearview m