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Pack members filtered in and out of the lodge while my brothers and I worked. It reminded me of the blockade days, except instead of coming in and out to grab coffee and baked goods, they were here to see our son.
In just a day, anything we didn’t already have for the boys quickly filled the lodge. Boxes of diapers were stacked in pyramids so tall, there was no way we’d ever be able to get through them. Baby clothes, burp cloths, stuffed wolves in every color, and a multitude of baby gadgets arrived like offerings for a tiny, hungry god.
Felicity kept immaculate track of who brought what. She wrote so many thank-you notes that I was worried her fingers would stay clamped around the pen permanently.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” I told her as I massaged her palms, rubbing my thumb over her ink-stained fingers. “Wolves love babies. If you thank everyone for the gifts, they’re only going to bring more.”
“We can’t just accept all this generosity without saying thank you,” she insisted. “I’m fine—just find me a new pen. My current one is out of ink.”
* * *
The pack’s run the next day brought even higher spirits. With Rylan returned to us, there was hope in the air. Beneath the glow of the full moon, I shifted with all the others. In my lupine form, I trotted back to Felicity, who lowered our baby boy down so I could nudge him with my nose and take in all the complexities of his individual scent, all the infinitesimal notes that marked him as him.
When I was done, she stepped back, holding him to her chest. With her auburn waves loose over her shoulders, and her feet bare on the grass, she looked like some kind of moon goddess, walking the earth in a linen sundress. I found myself staring.
Goddamn.
It took a howl from the forest to stir me from her spell.
I ran through our lands, dirt beneath my paws, wind in my fur, the un-scratchable itch of exertion rippling across my skin. To my right, I found Dylan galloping alongside me, a playful glint in his eyes.
He sped up, and I matched his pace. Together, we raced to the edge of the pack lands and back like we were kids again.Race you home! You’re on. Last one back’s a rotten egg.
After the run, the pack gathered to eat and chat. Nana Jordan and Mandy Spencer managed the buffet line, a spread featuring dishes from every pack member, while Connell and Luke flittered about in their orbit—sometimes helping, sometimes being chased away with a wooden spoon.
Being surrounded by our community like this again felt like the first cool breeze after a long heatwave. This was what we were missing, I kept finding myself thinking, and it was almost true.
But even in the golden light of the pack’s presence, there were still points of darkness I couldn’t shake.
Ryder should have been here for this, too. Every time my heart swelled at the sight of Rylan being passed around and fussed over, it sank at the absence of my other son.
And on the edge of the crowd, I watched Kingston staring off into space like he’d just found himself at a party full of strangers.
Before I could go to him, he swiveled his wheelchair around and rolled away. The door to the den slid shut with a hardclick. I wasn’t sure it would open again for the rest of the night.
“I’m worried about him,” I admitted to Felicity.
She’d been watching him, too. “So am I.” She hooked her arm around mine, inching a little closer. “But this was a rough night for him. While the rest of you went out to run, he had to sit back and watch with me and Nana Jordan. That can’t have been easy for him.”
“Shit,” I swore. “I didn’t even notice.”
Some brother I was.
“You can’t keep an eye on everything,” Felicity said gently. “That’s what you have me for. Give him some time. We can talk with him in the morning. Maybe this is what he needs to convince him to start up with his physical therapy again.” She pursed her lips. “And to take his pain meds. I know he has to be hurting. One of those hurts, at least, we can do something about.”
“As long as he cooperates,” I agreed.
Easier said than done. We Millers were historically a pretty stubborn, hard-headed bunch.
Kingston had the hardest head of us all, and tonight, he’d left me with the heaviest heart.
* * *
The run had left my hands and feet caked in dirt. Twigs and burrs tangled in my hair. Felicity picked out the worst of them, then I showered while she got Rylan down for the night.
He was fast asleep by the time I emerged. Felicity, too. The moonlight from the windows illuminated her in an otherworldly glow. My gaze traced the curve of her hip beneath the sheet, the steep drop to her waist, the elegance of her fingers as they rested on the pillow next to her angelic face.
Need burned deep in my core, a desire I’d been doing my best to tamp down. Between the panic, the heartache, and the grief, there’d been little room left for us. Her body wasn’t even ready for me yet. Six weeks, the doctors had told us. We were only at five. But there were other ways. Gentle, sweet ways that wouldn’t hurt her while she healed from giving birth.
