Ellar
It was a beautiful day, and it was all the more beautiful because of our house guests. While Naja was still asleep in her room, tucked in beside Raiden, Luisa had proven that she wasn’t a late sleeper, up with the sun at the crack of dawn. I’d made her breakfast and Seven had fed her while they watched cartoons streamed from the satellite.
Now, I was showing her around the yard, while Gatlin was busy making safety gates in the workshop. Luisa was talking nonsensically, squatting down to pick up things that caught her attention on the ground.
She went to put a rock in her mouth and I clucked. “No, Little Bit. Yucky.”
She looked up at me with big brown eyes like her sister’s, and dropped the rock. Toddling back over to me with more sass than skill, she lifted her arms. “Up, El.”
She knew my name. I grinned down at her, picking her up and throwing her into the air just to hear her laugh. “That’s right! Lulu”—I poked her nose, then pointed to myself—“El.”
She gave me a look that saidDuh!in no uncertain terms, and we went to investigate what Seven was doing. He had one of the old bald tires we kept beneath the house, and he was hacking at it with some kind of saw. He must have heard us coming because he looked over his shoulder, grinning at us. Safe to say that the cub had made us all soft.
I booped Seven on the nose. “Sev.” He frowned and fake sneezed, shaking his shaggy hair.
Then Luisa reached out and poked his nose too. “Sev!” she squealed, and he did the elaborate sneeze/shake thing again, but this time he was smiling wide. She had us wrapped around her tiny finger, and we were too smitten to struggle.
“Wanna go see if Mama is awake, Little Bit?” I said, and she bounced around.
“Mama!”
As we walked, I was looking at the yard as a parent would. We kept the surroundings of the house pretty clear because of fires, so there weren’t too many hazards. There was a pool at the rear that Gatlin was already talking about fencing in, as well as putting child-proof locks on the hot tub cover on the back deck. But over in front of those big windows in front of the bottom floor would be a perfect place for a little play set and maybe a mud kitchen. Maybe we should fence off a portion for when we had three, or four, or six tiny cubs to keep track of, if we were so blessed by the Goddess. We didn’t want them to be able to slip past us and end up down by the lake. I put teaching Luisa to swim on my mental list of things to do. All babies should know how to float at least. I’d suggest all this to the Pack over dinner. I walked up the steps to the deck and put Luisa down, and she raced toward the open door. When she stepped through, she saw Finlo and took off.
For some unknown reason, the kid loved Finlo. He hadn’t spent any more time with her than anyone else. Hadn’t bribed her with gifts. She was just mesmerised by the giant Alpha. I watched as he picked her up—his huge hand the size of her back—and spun her around as she laughed. I decided I didn’t blame the toddler at all. I loved him too and he didn’t have to do anything more than smile in my direction.
“Where are you going with my favorite girl?” he asked me, and I walked over, kissing him lightly on the lips.
Then I booped his nose and said, “Fin.”
Luisa copied the action, though she missed his nose and got his eye. “Fin!” she shouted, and Finlo laughed, even as his eye was scrunched up and a little watery. I tried to hide my laugh, but it was hard to hide anything from Finlo. His heated look promised sweet retribution later for laughing at his misery.
“To answer your question, we are going to see if Mama is awake.”
Finlo raised his eyebrows at the baby. “Is that so? Can I come too?”
I snorted. “I think you’ve come enough.”
Finlo gasped like a 1930s matron, and covered Luisa’s ear. “Ellar Belamy Huxley-Grey. Not in front of the child.”
I laughed and nudged him with my hip. “Let’s go and see our Omegas.”
We crept through the hall, but when we made it to Naja’s room, Raiden was already awake, looking down at the sleeping Omega with a soft expression. His eyes flicked to the door at our arrival.
“She’s still asleep,” he whispered.
But Luisa was having none of that. “Mama!”
Naja jerked awake, her eyes going straight to the baby instinctively. Her body finally relaxed as she took in the rest of us. Raiden was dressed in sleep pants, and Gatlin had left Naja one of his shirts after her shower. We’d agreed that while nudity was a part of shifter culture, including that of the Manix, out of respect we were going to be clothed whenever we were in public spaces.
Luisa wiggled out of Finlo’s arms and ran to Raiden’s side of the bed. Raiden leaned over and dragged her up, supermanning her across and onto her sister. Luisa snuggled down against Naja, and honestly, it made my heart simultaneously happy and hurt. Happy because they were a beautiful sight, and hurt because I knew that they couldn’t be ours forever.
“Morning baby, have you been good for the Pack?” Naja cooed, kissing the baby all over her chubby, and somehow kinda sticky, face.
“Yes!” Luisa shouted, and then seemed to throw together several incomprehensible sentences that somehow Naja deciphered.
Raiden leaned over and kissed Naja’s cheek before rolling out of bed. “We’ll leave you guys to your girl talk,” he said softly, and I knew this was important. Naja needed space. Her heat wasn’t riding her as hard now that we’d satisfied some of the biological needs, but it was still there, tantalizing the edges of my senses.
That wasn’t the reason I wanted to climb into bed with them though. I just wanted that beautiful domesticity. Early Sunday mornings, even though you’re meant to be getting a lie-in. Baby snuggles and chatter. A beautiful woman beside me who looked at me with love. Hell, any of my Pack. Or all of them. Sunday morning puppy piles.
