The brooding blond bodyguard-Guardian driving the Yukon looked at him in the rearview mirror, torn.
"You've got five seconds," Dusty said, unruffled. "Five-- "
"Nine weeks," Pierre grated.
"You're so fired!" Sofia whispered with a sigh. "Dusty, you're not supposed to know. No one is yet."
"She's saving it for when she gets in trouble again with ikir," Pierre supplied. "Sort of like a get out of jail free card."
"I am not!"
Dusty chuckled, glad for the distraction from his dark thoughts. Sofia pushed up her shades to display blue eyes rimmed with silver. His humor dissipated at the sight of the black circles under her two-toned eyes. Her mind was open to him, and he watched the thoughts passing through.
The visions in her head were dark and brutal, the memories of a man enslaved by the sadistic Black God for thousands of years. As the only Oracle and soul reader in existence, she was the only one who could repair the mind of her mate's brother, the Grey God, who suffered a fate worse than death as a slave to Czerno. While she never complained, it was clear she needed Damian to visit again soon and heal the damage his brother did to her on a daily basis.
"Sofi, you're not going to be able to handle helping Darian and being pregnant," he said.
"I don't have a choice," she replied. "Darian isn't stable. I'll be fine."
"I'll take care of it," he said.
"No, Dusty, Darian needs me."
He said nothing, his decision already made.
"Dealing with you is like beating my head against a brick wall!" she snapped.
"Then stop beating your head," he advised. "I'm not Damian or Jule; you can't sweet talk me into anything. You're in my house. You live by my rules. You know I don't compromise."
"You're a dictator." She sighed and picked up his hand, placing it on her head. Dusty relaxed and smoothed her hair back like he might a child's.
"Boss, you can send her to behavior modification training," Pierre suggested.
Dusty wasn't sure how Pierre ever made it through the Guardian basic training with his lip. While he made a good match for Sofia, Dusty had never met any Guardian with such a loose interpretation of discipline. For Sofia's sake, he refrained from saying what he'd like to say to the Guardian.
"Boy or girl?" he asked, genuinely happy about Damian and Sofia's first child.
"Boy," Pierre volunteered.
"The next White God," Dusty said. "Sofi, that's awesome."
She smiled, meeting his gaze. The silver of her eyes flared and swirled as she gazed at him, an indication she was reading either his future or his mind.