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"There's quiche," Stella called from the food table, because Danny's mother had apparently decided that feeding supernatural beings was her personal mission. "And cinnamon rolls."

Dimitri blinked. "I don't typically—"

"Nonsense. You're skin and bones." She was already loading a plate.

I caught Danny pressing his fist against his mouth to keep from laughing. Then shockingly, Ben appeared at Dimitri's elbow and steered him toward a chair with the practiced ease of someone who was accustomed to managing social situations between species that would rather eat each other than share appetizers.

"Right!" Emery clapped his hands again, reclaiming the room's attention with impressive force. "Now that everyone's here—and welcome, Dimitri—can we please do the reveal before Danny explodes?"

"I'm not going to explode," Danny said.

"You've been vibrating for twenty minutes," I pointed out.

"That's the cubs kicking my bladder. Completely different."

More laughter. I helped Danny to his feet—a production that now required strategic planning and at least one supporting arm—and we made our way to the cart with the three gold boxes. The room hushed, and I could feel the collective anticipation pressing against my skin like a physical thing.

Danny's hand found mine, and I felt the tremor in his fingers. When I looked at him, his eyes were bright—not with tears, but with something fiercer. Joy, maybe. The kind he was finally letting himself feel without flinching away from it.

"Together?" he whispered.

"Together," I confirmed.

"Cub number one!" Emery announced, gesturing to the box with the green ribbon like a game-show host.

Danny pulled the ribbon loose while I lifted the lid. For a heartbeat, neither of us looked inside—just held each other's gaze in a last moment of not-knowing. Then we both looked down.

A stuffed bear in soft blue velvet stared up at us with button eyes.

"A boy," Danny breathed, and the room erupted.

I couldn't speak. My throat had closed around something enormous and warm, and all I could do was stare at the little blue bear while the cheering washed over us. A son. We were having a son.

Danny was already reaching for the second box, the one with the purple ribbon. His hands were shaking harder now, and I covered them with mine as we pulled the lid free together.

Pink. A pink bear with a tiny satin bow between its ears.

"A girl," I managed, my voice coming out wrecked. Danny made a sound that was half laugh, half sob, and pressed his forehead against my shoulder for a second before pulling himself together.

"One more," he said, his voice rough. "One more, come on."

The room had gone quiet. I could see Stella with both hands pressed over her mouth, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. Isla had her hand on her own belly, her expression luminous. Estrelle was gripping Ben's arm, and Ben—Ben was smiling in a way I'd never seen before, open and unguarded and young.

Maya stood near the back of the room, and I noticed—because I'd been noticing for weeks—that Draven had somehow drifted to stand just behind her left shoulder, close enough to touch but not quite touching. As the excitement built, Maya bounced on her toes and stumbled slightly, and Draven's hand shot out to steady her elbow with a gentleness that was almost comical coming from a man built like a small mountain.

Maya turned pink. Draven turned pinker. They both looked in opposite directions simultaneously, and I caught Danny tracking the whole exchange with narrowed eyes and the particular expression that meant he was filing something away for future interference. I made a mental note to warn Draven, then immediately decided not to.

The poor bastard was on his own.

Danny's fingers closed around the red ribbon on the last box. He paused, looking up at me with those blue-gray eyes that had undone me from the very first moment.

"Whatever's in here," he said softly, just for me, "we already have everything."

I kissed him. Right there, in front of fifty people and a deeply uncomfortable silver-skin diplomat, I kissed him until Emery cleared his throat pointedly and someone—probably Matthew—wolf-whistled.

We opened the last box.

Blue.