I pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting my lips trail down to the high arches of her cheekbones so that I could catch her tears. They tasted salty, but more than that, to me, they were bittersweet.
This woman, this wonderful woman, shed tears because she felt like she wasn’t serving our child well enough.
I’d been annoyed when she became pregnant. I could admit that to myself, and to her if she was listening in—
“I knew,” she grumbled, her face turning into my throat.
“Of course you did,” I said dryly. “You know more than you’d like, don’t you?”
“Yes. And I understood it.”
“I wanted you to myself. To ourselves. I was being selfish.”
She nodded. “I told you I understood, and I do. I love him, I can’t imagine life without him, but it would have been nice to have more time with you on our own. We have a lot of responsibility already. A breather would have been quite pleasant.”
“A breather would have been more than that,” I told her gruffly, kissing her again. “But I’m the same. I can’t imagine life without Knight, and now we don’t have to. He’s here, and you’re running yourself ragged trying to be the best you can be. However, you’re being you. You’re doing you, and that’s exactly what he needs. That is the best you.”
“I hate giving him formula,” she rasped. “Why am I this powerful omega, the one who’s going to change everything, whose frickin’ placenta is powerful enough to make the pack fertile, but I can’t feed Knight?”
I had no answer to that question, but it seemed a pretty hard ask. When she tilted her head back to look up at me though, each individual eyelash formed tiny triangles, pricked with clear tears that were like diamonds.
I sighed at the sight of them, at the earnestness in her eyes, and whispered, “You’re too hard on yourself.”
She pushed her face into my chest again, her arms tightening around my waist, until I knew she was comforting herself and Knight through the hold.
I stood there, strong and stalwart, prepared to stand there for a lifetime, prepared to stand there forever if it made her happy.
With the scent of her in my nostrils, the scent of Knight and that strangely satisfying baby smell, the sense of home I had with her in my arms, I knew standing here for a lifetime would be no hardship.
Although I doubted Knight would be grateful to be stuck here when he turned eighteen…
A smirk that she couldn’t see crossed my lips. After all, the boy was demanding, as only an alpha whelp could be.
“I hate it when you call him that,” she grumbled. “Alpha whelp. Makes him sound like some kind of puppy from a breeding farm.”
I snorted. “You have to get used to the terminology. We’ve been out of pack life for your three-month milk moon, but that’s coming to an end shortly. Once it’s over, everyone will call him that. Especially as he’s so strong.”
“It shouldn’t be that weird. Ethan and Austin were telling me about how all kids are getting stronger now.”
“They are, but Knight is stronger still.” I blew out a breath, and even though what I was about to say concerned me, I decided that it would be a matter of borrowing trouble if I worried about it now. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he lasts to his fifth or sixth year before he shifts.”
She gaped at that. “You’re kidding!” Sabina pulled back to give me a full blast of the gawk, but what was I supposed to do—lie to her? Not likely.
“I wish I was. He’s a powerful child. I can feel it in our bond.”
Her eyes softened at that, and I knew why too—she loved that we had a bond. I supposed it made sense after what I’d learned of her relationship with her father, but even though mine hadn’t been the best dad to Austin and Ethan, he’d been a pretty good one to me. At least, up until I’d been around six or seven, when the boys had come along.
He’d gotten pretty angry after that, had changed to the point where he hadn’t always been a pleasure to be around, but the truth was, he’d been good to me. Just strict. And with my wolf being as strong as he was, that was exactly what I needed.
I needed discipline and structure. Just like Knight would too.
Daniel, as well. He’d gotten over his shift early last year and was now taking part in pack runs, but though his wolf was slowly getting stronger, was adapting to pack life, I could feel his needs changing as well.
Even though he was only a boy, he didn’t feel that way. I remembered what that was like.
“We have to help them both,” she whispered. “Make sure they’re looked after, but given the love they need too.”
My lips twitched. “I think that’s on your shoulders, my mate. I’ll love them, but sometimes, tough love is what an alpha whelp needs. Now, don’t go all tense on me. It’s true. They need to learn that they can’t test boundaries. The limits are there for a reason, and they matter.”
She heaved a sigh, but I knew she heard the car rumbling down the drive as well as I did, because she stiffened as, with each moment, the wheels rustled down the gravel, making it sing as it approached the house.
I murmured, “I don’t know why you’re so stressed. She sounded eager to see you.”
“After she guilt-tripped me for not getting in touch.”
That had me shrugging. “I think it was more a case of you letting her think you were dead, love. And you did do that, you made that choice, just like she made choices too. If she makes you feel bad for them, then just own them. You did what you had to do. Hell, you did what you were fated to do, and that can’t be argued, considering exactly where you are right this second.”
She bit her lip. “I hate to think that Kian died just so that I could end up here.”
“Some are fated to live a long and miserable life, some are fated to live an existence filled with love but one that ends short.” I shrugged, but that wasn’t a dismissive move. It was an acceptance of what all shifters knew—the Mother decided these things. Not us. We had no say in it, and as such, we had to embrace whatever time we had.
Of course, we had more time than humans. More time in our prime. We didn’t live much longer than they did, but we didn’t start to truly deteriorate until we were in our late eighties, early nineties. And even then, we merely appeared to be in our sixties to humans.
It caused us a lot of crap in towns where humans existed and where they knew people who’d looked thirty for a few decades, but equally, most packs owned towns, as did we, and if there were humans in the vicinity, the truth of what we were had been passed down through the generations.
“I just wish he had another chance like I had.”
“There’s no point in thinking such things, and I know you only are because of your sister’s arrival. But if she makes you feel bad for trying to leave a life that would have left you living in fear, that would have seen you tied into a loveless marriage for your family’s benefit, then remind her of that. No woman should have to endure what you’d have been forced to endure.”
“Do you feel forced?”
That, and not for the first time, had me gaping at her. “Are you being serious?”
She started to giggle at that, and it made my own lips twitch, even though I knew I was staring at her as if she’d grown horns. Maybe that would make more sense to me than for her to think any of what we had together was forced.