Chapter 14

Riley

We were home, safe, warm, and in our den. I was dozing in and out of sleep, but the wolf knew. She was vigilant presence inside my body, standing over our young while I rested, but not for long. Another thin wail had me shifting, and so did they.

“Here you go.”

That was Blake, his voice low and soothing as he moved forward, bringing my baby closer. I resisted the urge to snatch him from my mate’s hands, some shockingly selfish impulse rising right before I pushed it back down. We were pack. He was our son. We’d made him. God, was I always going to be this bloody emotional? The mere idea of it had my eyes filling with tears again.

“Hey…” He looked stricken. “Riley?—”

“He’s just perfect.” I looked down at that tiny little person and watched him settle in the crook of my arms as if it was made for him. Blindly he sought my nipple like a pup might, whatever finely honed instincts he had kicking in quickly before he latched on. Strong, almost violent pulls surged through me as my body provided him with everything he needed.

I did.

I did it. It wasn’t the grotto, but in the end it hadn’t mattered. While I loved that there was a space sacred for omegas in every alpha run town, that wasn’t what I needed. The saying might be you can’t go home, but I could recognise that while the structures there worked for so many people, they didn’t for me. I didn’t want to be a petty queen who bore the next generation of kings. I didn’t want my sons to be watched with avaricious eyes by the mothers of all of the appropriately aged daughters, wondering if one day my sons would choose them.

I just wanted this.

My pack slept on our bed, each man keeping one of our sons tucked up close to them. No blankets because I’d been firm with that. Co-sleeping I could accept, but not with anything that might smother a child. The absence of bedding gifted me this view.

We did it.

The birth itself was a jumble of fragmented memories inside my mind, and at some point I’d put them into logical order, but not now. Instead, I sank into the bed, letting the soft mattress swallow me as my son fed, right up until I heard a small bang and then a muffled curse.

“What’s that?”

The wolf and I were one, jerking up off the bed, my child pulled into a tight protective embrace. The den had been infiltrated. We weren’t safe.

“Ssh…” Blake slid in behind me and that helped. The bulk of his body always made me feel safe. “It’s OK. It’s just Candy.”

Candy? Candy was pack, I knew that, but it didn’t stop me from rising, handing Blake our son for a second as I yanked on a dressing gown. Once I was decent, I took our child back, jiggling him absently as I walked out the door to discover my best friend had gone mad.

“Shit.” Candy looked like a deer caught in the headlights, except most cervine species were incapable of holding a bottle of Spray and Wipe in one hand, a toothbrush in the other. “Shit, shit, shit, tell me I didn’t wake you up. Riles?”

“No.” I placed my son on my shoulder and patted his back, remembering now the inefficient way babies’ bodies dealt with gas. A few more pats and he let out a god-awful belch, something that had both Candy and I snorting.

“Well, at least we know whose son he is,” she said, daring to smile.

“Pretty sure you’re the one that can burp your own name,” I shot back. She sucked in a breath and did that gross forced-burp thing, demonstrating exactly how good or bad she was at that, but as the sound faded away, I had more serious questions. “But what the hell are you doing?”

“Nesting, I think?” She went to scratch her hair, then got the spray bottle nozzle stuck in it, forced to yank it free. “I don’t know. I was lying at home, remembering everything that happened, because damn, I’m pretty sure I’m scarred for life. Like I’ve watched body horror movies before, and it's all starting to make sense. Guys have birth envy?—”

“Nesting?” I asked.

“Right, right, so I was like Riley wasn’t expecting to birth so soon and is she prepared.” She cast me a sidelong look. “You’re usually Miss Type A perfection, but did this catch you off guard? I couldn’t sleep for thinking about it, so I came over and let myself in, and Blake almost bit my head off thinking I was an intruder. Nice job, by the way. Very protective, very alpha.” She winked at Blake who just sighed in response. “I explained that I needed…”

She sucked in a breath then another in rapid succession, then let them out with a whoosh and I was shocked to see her start to blink rapidly. A tear was dashed away quickly before she straightened up and stared at me head on.

“I didn’t expect to think the kids are cute.” Candy peered at my son but wouldn’t take a step closer, something the wolf appreciated greatly. “I didn’t expect to give the slightest shit about them. Like I like kids, but when they’re older and can form sentences, y’know? But something… something happened during the birth. I saw them, and suddenly I’m looking into Australian gun laws and whether I can open carry because nothing, and I mean nothing, is getting near those kids.”

OK, I promised myself I was not going to keep crying like this tomorrow, but today? I rushed forward, one arm out, the other around my child and then wrapped the spare one around my bestie’s shoulders.

“So, that’s what this is?” I breathed that out between barely suppressed sobs. “You’re protecting the pack?”

“By scrubbing the kitchen grout with a toothbrush,” she replied. “I don’t know why, but it just makes sense.”

“A lot of bacteria can accumulate in grout due to it being somewhat porous,” I said.

“Right? Big, tall and broody over there was all like WTAF, but I knew you’d want them cleaned. After the grout, I figured I’d alphabetise your spices, organise your pans by size?—”

“You’re stress cleaning?”

I pulled back to stare down at her, seeing where the tears had left tracks in her smudged mascara.

“We need to protect the babies, Riley.” I couldn’t help but chuckle, because right now my friend looked like a ferocious chihuahua. “We need to make sure they’re safe. I need your permission to activate the phone tree because there’s a whole lot of people who signed up to make casseroles or other dishes that can be frozen, and that needs to be my next job.” She looked over at the chest freezer with a frown. “Food, clean shelter?—”

“Love.” I gave her shoulder a squeeze and that seemed to rouse my son. He gave a sleepy snuffle then made a disturbing grunt, followed by a hot heaviness in his tiny little nappy. “And clean nappies.”

“Yeah, that’s all you.” Candy backed off rapidly. “Everything else? I am on it, but nappies…” She gagged theatrically, starting to squirt more cleaning spray over the already clean benches and wiping them aggressively.

“OK, you sort the kitchen and I’ll change the baby.”

My baby, my mind corrected, making clear what this was. I was caring for my child, as were my mates and my pack. Together, we would raise them happy, healthy, and with everything they could possibly need, and with that in mind, I headed for the nursery.

“So about that phone tree…?” Candy asked.

If I knew my best friend, it was every parent, every carer, in our programs that she’d managed to coerce into helping, and suddenly I saw them as a very different group. Not clients or research subjects, but fellow parents. People who had walked the same road I was about to start down, who had experience and wisdom to share. People who might want to help me the way we helped them.

“Sure.” I nodded, but before I could say more, my son’s face screwed up in protest. The wetness of his nappy was now apparent, and he was not liking it at all. “Whatever you think is best.”

She sucked in a breath, ready to suggest completely ridiculous things, because I never, ever gave her a free reign like that, but I ducked into the nursery before she could get one out.

“There we are.” I kept my tone soft and gentle as I laid his quivering form down. “Where did we…?”

“Here you go.” Blake stood there in just a pair of loose shorts, a nappy in one hand, powder in the other, looking like a new mother’s wet dream. “Or I could do it.”

I smiled then, knowing he’d step up, they all would, every single time.

“Let’s do this together.”