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Jocelyn hugged Max tightly, and so did Kevin. What followed was a long stream of “Good job!”, “Congratulations!”, “I’m so happy for you!” to which Max could only say “Thank you” and smile broadly. His face was already aching because of so much smiling.
“Have you and Avelyn decided on a name?” asked Jocelyn.
“Yes, yes we have… Nikolas. His name is Nikolas.”
“Like our father…” Jocelyn gave him a large, grateful smile and hugged him again. “The best choice you could have ever made.”
***
Nikolas Blackmane was born four days before the November full moon, which the werewolves called the Frosty Moon. It gave everyone the perfect opportunity to celebrate the new heir properly, with a huge bonfire, a lot of food, and even more alcohol, which, of course, Avelyn wasn’t even allowed to touch. Since the child was born, no one had felt like working much anyway, so they had all focused their efforts on organizing the best full moon celebration in the history of Clan Blackmane.
Jocelyn was helping Avelyn wrap little Nikolas in a warm, fluffy baby blanket. Even though he was only four days old, the child was already quite strong and very demanding. Given his healthy, resistant metabolism that came with his inborn werewolf traits, Avelyn doubted there was any chance the baby could catch a cold, and Jocelyn had insisted she could very well take him outside in his nappies, but she still had to make sure. He was so small and he seemed so fragile that she sometimes spent hours just watching him move his tiny hands and legs around, not quite understanding how he managed not to hurt himself or break something in the process. She was getting used to handling him, but every time she took him into her arms, her heart sank a bit, the fear that she might drop him if she wasn’t careful enough sneaking into her bones.
“There we go…” said Jocelyn, smiling down at the baby. “All dressed up and ready to party. Yes, you are! Who’s the most handsome young man in the world?”
The baby laughed and reached for Jocelyn’s face. She caught his tiny fingers between her lips and pretended she wanted to eat them.
Avelyn watched them, a satisfied smile on her lips. Another amazing thing about being the Alpha’s wife was that all the women in the clan wanted to spend time with her baby. They were almost ready to fight over ten minutes of playing with Nikolas, and they often ended up annoying her to no end, but then she tried to imagine what it would be like if she didn’t have them around. At least she had enough time to rest and even read if she wanted to. Nikolas was literally passed from one person to another, most of the time ending up asleep in Jocelyn’s or Max’s arms. She had tried to convince them to put him down and let him sleep in his own little bed, otherwise he would soon become a pain to be around because he’d always want to be held. There was no way she could reason with them.
“So what if he gets used to sleeping in someone’s arms?” Jocelyn would ask. “Clan Blackmane is so big that little Nicky will never run out of arms.”
“Wow! That sounds so wrong.” Jocelyn could say the weirdest things sometimes. “You don’t get it. I don’t want him to be too pampered. The last thing I want is to have a spoiled child.”
“If he ends up spoiled, it’ll only be because he is your child.” At this point, Jocelyn would go as far as to stick her tongue out, which told Avelyn that was that. Josie had lost it. The baby had rewired her brain and turned her into a well-trained auntie. Auntie Josie. No one could argue with Auntie Josie.
Avelyn put on her jacket and took Nikolas into her arms. After over an hour of fumbling around because she and Jocelyn had been unable to agree on how to dress him, they w
ere finally ready to go down into the courtyard, where the party had already begun. Everyone was waiting for them.
Jocelyn held the door open for her sister-in-law and her nephew, then followed them down the stairs. She had never been so excited in her whole life! She couldn’t remember the last time it happened to her to get up every single morning with a smile on her face, feeling ready to take over the world. Baby Nikolas had truly changed their lives and helped them move on from what had happened just a few months before. Sabine, Christine, Val… oh, how she missed Val. She missed all the Moon Children she had lost at Alma Venus, and she knew Max and Karl were struggling to cope with their own losses. Little Nicky had brought hope to their clan. He was the sign they all needed to finally understand and accept that it was okay to move on, to leave the past behind, and focus on a new future.
The moment Avelyn stepped onto the stone alley and started walking towards the bonfire, everyone’s eyes turned to her and the baby. The werewolves ceased doing whatever they had been doing, and held their breaths while Avelyn crossed the courtyard, reached the neatly trimmed grass, and stopped to greet them warmly and thank them for organizing such an incredible party. They cheered, and Rosanna shoved a glass filled with red liquid into her hand.
“What is this?”
“Cherry juice. Your favorite.” The raspberry blonde she-wolf winked at her.
“Thanks.”
“Let me see my little champion,” said Max, appearing out of nowhere. He kissed the child’s forehead and let him squeeze one of his fingers into his tiny hand. “I thought you’d never make it. What took you so long?”
“Jocelyn wanted to dress him in that ugly suit from Councilor Harington.”
“What’s wrong with it? It’s elegant.”
“It’s uncomfortable and too sophisticated for a family celebration. I just want him to feel comfy and be able to move around in his clothes.”
Max took Nikolas from her, and the baby laughed cheerfully. “Lovely blankie, sweetheart, but he’ll soon feel like a roasted chicken in it.”
Avelyn put her hands on her hips. “Et tu, Brute? I don’t want him to catch a cold or something. I know he’s a baby werewolf, but he’s still more fragile than an adult.”
Max laughed. “Relax. I’m just saying… I remember when Jocelyn was born. Dad used to take her in the garden with him and let her sleep naked in her crib while he read a book or went over whatever reports he had to take care of. She was two weeks old and it was early spring.”
“Poor Josie. No wonder she’s a bit of a nutjob.”
“Yeah, you might be right about that.” He fit the baby’s tiny body in the crook of his left arm, and tenderly placed his other arm around Avelyn’s shoulders. “But she’s also tough.”
“Because your dad kept her naked in the cold spring air for hours, obviously.”
