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"Luna, dear" he said as he rubbed my pregnant belly, "just let my mother know she's in charge."
"Mason," I snapped, "If you wanted to marry a submissive woman, you should never have married a werewolf."
Why had I married Mason?
Sure, he's handsome.
He's charming.
And a Prince of the Fae, a secret he had kept until now.
Now, he blathered about Fae customs, the royal line-of-succession, trial by combat --
"Wait! If I beat up a bunch of fairies, they'll leave us alone?" I placed my hand on top of his, "Leave our children alone?"
"Well, not exactly. You'd have to defeat each of my sisters or their champions."
I snorted, "How hard can it be? Smack down a few fairies in exchange for freedom? Sign me up!"
"It's not just a 'few fairies.'"
"How many?"
"I have seven sisters."
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