THE BOY WHO COULD BEAR AN HEIR
And Zayn, the ruthless man who had made enemies tremble at his name, now found himself bending to every whim of a pregnant young man who could switch moods faster than a blade could cut.
~~~~~~~
When Zayn returned with the juice, Lucien was sitting cross-legged on the bed, waiting.
“Here,” Zayn said, handing him the chilled glass.
Lucien took it, sniffed, then frowned. “This isn’t mango.”
Zayn’s jaw twitched. “It is mango.”
“It smells like orange.”
“It’s mango,” Zayn repeated, his tone flat.
Lucien took a sip, rolled it on his tongue, and then his eyes lit up. “Oh. It is mango. Hm. Tastes good. Thank you.”
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