Neither Lord Jethro nor Grey knew what had truly been happening inside Grey's body.
And even if someone stood before them right now and told them plainly, that if not for the sleeping pills and the crushing weight of stress, fear, and exhaustion, they would have become fathers, neither of them would have believed it.
No one would.
Not a single soul in the world, because male pregnancy had never happened before.
Not even once.
Not in history, not in myth, not in whispered legends. Since the beginning of time, it had been impossible and unthinkable.
But twenty-one years ago, when Grey was born, the Moon Goddess had reconsidered everything.
It was after she had withdrawn from the rigid structure she herself had once enforced. For centuries, she had assigned mates, binding souls together by decree, sealing bonds whether love existed or not.
Over time, she realized that obedience did not create devotion, and fate did not always grow affection. So she loosened her grip.
