"Whether she'll be able to control it," Autumn finishes softly.
"Yeah."
We're both quiet for a moment. Maya has finished nursing and is now making happy gurgling sounds, completely oblivious to her parents' worry.
"We'll figure it out," Autumn says firmly. "Just like we've figured out everything else. Together."
"What if I can't protect her from what she is? What if she goes through what I went through, that loss of control—"
"Stop." Autumn's voice is sharp enough that I look up at her. "Maya is not you. She's not going to have the same trauma, the same triggers, the same experiences. And she's going to have something you didn't have, two parents who know exactly what she is and love her unconditionally."
"What if that's not enough?"
"It will be. Because we'll make it enough." She shifts Maya to her shoulder, patting her back gently. "And she'll have Dr. Amanda, the Blackwater Falls shifters, they're all invested in helping her. We're not doing this alone."
I reach up and stroke Maya's tiny foot. She kicks at my hand, and despite my worry, I smile.
Two years ago, I was alone on this mountain, convinced I'd die alone. Convinced I didn't deserve anything else.
Now I have a mate who loves me despite everything I am. A daughter who exists against all odds. A life I never thought possible.
"How did I get this lucky?" I ask.
"You went for a run in a storm to save a reckless hiker," Autumn reminds me with a smile. "And then you couldn't get rid of her."
"Best decision I never meant to make."
She laughs. "Come here."
I stand and lean down, kissing her slowly, not to jostle Maya between us.
"I love you," I murmur against her lips.
"I love you too. Both of you." She kisses me again, then pulls back. "Now go make breakfast. I'm starving."
"You're always starving."
"Breastfeeding burns calories. Feed me, mountain man."
I grin and head to the kitchen area, pulling out eggs and bread. As I cook, I watch them in the rocking chair. My mate and my daughter, both of them bathed in morning light.
The bond with Autumn has only gotten stronger over the past two years. We've learned each other's rhythms, learned how to communicate without words, learned how to be partners in every sense of the word.
And Maya, fuck, Maya is already showing signs of having her own bond, though Dr. Amanda says it won't fully develop until she's older. But I can feel her sometimes, especially when she's upset or happy. Little bursts of emotion through the pack bond.
It terrifies me and amazes me in equal measure.
"Rhett?" Autumn calls from the rocking chair.
"Yeah?"
"Your mom called too. Asked if we're coming to the pack gathering next month."
My mother. That still feels strange to say, even after two years of knowing her.
When Autumn convinced me to meet with the Blackwater Falls pack, I'd done it reluctantly. Expected judgment, rejection, horror at what I'd done. Instead, I found acceptance. Understanding. And a woman who'd been searching for me for thirty years.
My mother hadn't died when I was young. She'd been forced to give me up, told I'd died, kept from me by circumstances I'm still piecing together. Finding each other again was complicated. Emotional. Painful and healing all at once.
