Chapter 4

Four

MADDOCK

My Moon is exhausted. Once I’m sure she’s sound asleep, my fingers slip into my pocket and snag my phone. None of my brothers have patience, so it’s no surprise there are dozens of text messages and several missed calls, which is exactly why it’s set to silent. Progress with Ares is crucial, and managing the situation delicately is vital. I'm genuinely surprised at how smoothly our conversation unfolded. Our unmated bond is strong enough to sense each other's intentions, so I knew she could detect the truth in my words, just as I could.

The fact that she trusts me enough to stay in the house while she and our daughter sleep was unexpected. Pride swells in my heart, knowing my mate is a fighter, considering the struggles she faced as an unmated shifter with a baby. The conflicting emotions in my numb heart intensify like an internal rollercoaster of immense proportions. Someone robbed us—stole our firsts, our love, our family.

As my purr borders on a growl, my mate wiggles against my chest, immediately quelling my aggression. She sees only our light—never the darkness. We'll save that wrath for when the time is right.

She calms instantly as the vibrations soothe her back to sleep. Selfishly, I ignore my brothers and savor the small woman in my arms and the even smaller gift in the next room. Her scent saturates every fiber of my being. The moment she opened the door, she owned me. Mind. Body. Soul. They were all hers to command.

My wolf whimpers, longing to nuzzle her hair and neck—a desire I pacify by laying my cheek against the top of her head, reminding him that she barely knows us. She likely despised us before the truth came out, so pawing at her while she sleeps won’t earn us any brownie points.

A distraction for both wolf and man is needed, especially since my fantasy is draped across my lap, softly snoring with each inhale.

As I scroll through our family chat one-handedly, reading my brothers’ messages, humor bubbles up. They start with innocent inquiries, escalate to impatience and panic, then border on threats—all asking about our mate and baby, pleading for updates on our situation. None of which I would have answered while talking with my mate, and they damn well know it. Now that she’s snug against my chest, lulled to sleep by my purr, I finally respond.

Me:

Our baby and mate are fine. Perfect, actually. She’s an amazing mother to our girl. Our conversation went well, and there’s enough of a bond flowing between us that she senses our truth, somehow understanding. She’s sleeping now… on my chest.

Even though it’s past one in the morning, responses chime in one after another.

Knox:

What. The. Fuck.

Kato:

Take a picture. How does she smell?

Knox:

Will she consider meeting us? Have you asked her?

Kato:

Does she smell like our daughter?

Kato:

What does our daughter smell like?

Kato:

Send us a picture of her, too.

Kato:

Send us a picture of both of them. Preferably snuggling together.

Drix:

Show me what my daughter looks like, Mad.

Hendrix’s final text shatters the remnants of my soul. His heartache echoes through the words on my screen, prompting me to tighten my hold on our mate, locking her against my chest. My purr intensifies, practically vibrating through my mate’s body, bringing a sly grin to my face. She's ours. Finally.

As I cuddle my girl—nothing inappropriate—the picture is sent through the group text, granting them their first glimpse of our sweet baby girl.

It’s true that the beating organ in your chest can change rhythms, because mine's racing at the sight of our pup peacefully asleep in her crib just ten feet away from me. Short of completing the mating bond, this is as close to perfect as it gets.

And my brothers agree.

Knox:

Precious.

Kato:

Our sweet angel.

Kato:

Look at her hair. She’s like a little moonbeam.

Drix:

My daughter…