Chapter 32

Tristan stared at the cottage, now only a shell, devoid of everything that had made it a home. The love and laughter he grew up with were all gone, buried with his mother. Turning away, he hurried to his car, anxious to leave quickly since there was now no reason to stay. Though his mother's death had now given him freedom to pursue his own destiny, he'd have gladly traded it to have her back in his life again.

Driving away, Tristan took one last look, seeing his mother everywhere and nowhere. She'd gone to a better place where heartbreak and pain didn't exist, yet he could still feel her close by. Biting back a sob, he turned onto the road that would take him westward, where his future was—and to a father he never knew existed.

It had always been just the two of them—Tristan and his mother—and, when in his childhood, he'd asked his mother about his father, she told him tales of a swashbuckling adventurer who travelled the world, capturing evil pirates. For the longest time, he'd dream of waking up to find his father offering to take him along on his next journey. But it never happened and, in time, Tristan stopped asking, convinced his father was just a figment of his mother's imagination.

And he would've been happy to keep his father buried in his past, had not his mother's death changed everything when he found his birth certificate and a paternity test among her effects.

My father is real.No matter how many times he'd said that since finding out, Tristan could feel nothing but anger at the man who'd abandoned him. Even with proof that Tristan was his son, his father had simply discarded him like a piece of trash. And as much as that hurt, it was what else he'd found out about his father that now prompted him to head to California.

~/~/~/~/~

It had been a hell of a day and Kahn wanted nothing more than to go to bed, bury his head in his pillow and forget everything. He stared at the uneaten food on the kitchen table, wondering if he should just throw it out. Neither his sisters nor his mother had come downstairs to eat and he couldn't blame them, since his appetite was gone, too.

Sighing, he began clearing the table, scraping the cold and congealed food into the garbage before placing the dishes in the sink. After the kitchen was cleaned, Kahn made himself a cup of coffee and leaned back against the counter, drinking it slowly. So preoccupied was he with his thoughts, he never heard the back door open.

"I could use one of those," Reeve said, setting his phone down on the counter. "Any left?"

"What?" Kahn looked up. "Yeah…I just made it."

Taking a mug out of the cupboard, Reeve glanced at his mate, noting his defeatist posture. After filling it, he sat down at the island, sipping the hot brew while studying Kahn. It was obvious it had been a rough day, but maybe the news he had would at least end it on a better note. "I spoke to Jackson today."

"Good for you," Kahn muttered. The last thing he wanted to hear was more depressing news only confirming what he already knew; Jackson wanted him dead. The only bright spot about that was that Reeve would finally understand why it was necessary for him and his family to leave.

"Actually, I think it'll cheer you up," Reeve said.

"Let me guess…he's willing to settle for just me."

"Not quite," Reeve replied. "He's not interested in getting revenge, period. As he put it ‘The past is the past; let it die along with Josiah.'"

"You believe him?" asked Kahn as a small flicker of hope suddenly leapt to life inside him. They would still have to leave but at least he wouldn't have keep looking over his shoulder, wondering when his cousin would strike.

"Yes," assured Reeve, "he wasn't lying."

Kahn grunted in acknowledgment, then placed his mug in the sink and muttered, "I'm going to bed. See you in the morning."

"Wait, there's more."

"What?" Kahn asked, keeping his back to Reeve, wishing the man would just disappear. It was all too much, more than he could cope with after spending the day listening to his sisters alternate between crying and screaming at him for letting their father be killed. Between comforting them and trying to calm them, he was exhausted, and his concern for his mother didn't help. She had aged in front of him and, other than apologizing to his sisters for failing their father, his mother sat on the couch staring at her wedding ring.

Kahn was finally able to coax her up to her bedroom to rest. When she hadn't come down, he went to her room and found her asleep. After covering her with a blanket, he left, shutting her bedroom door quietly behind him, grateful she'd found some peace.

"I'm waiting for more, what is it?" Kahn asked, again. He'd been headed for his bedroom and was running out of patience.

"I found Rudy's allies and they've been arrested."

That was good news, too, but Kahn just didn't have it in him to acknowledge it, so he just nodded before heading upstairs where, if he was lucky, sleep might find him.

Reeve watched his mate leave the kitchen, deciding not to ask him about Josiah's remains. That would have to wait till tomorrow, along with letting Kahn know they were mates—much to his buffalo's discontent at the delay. It was clear his mate was mentally and physically exhausted and had reached his limit.

Finishing his coffee, Reeve's mind drifted to Dylon and the power he'd felt in him. It was almost as strong as Jackson's and that piqued his interest. The man was also clever—Dylon played the game extremely well with his brief answers. He gave nothing away and was perfectly content to continue until Reeve had given up. That ability must have come from his politician father, Franklin Royd.

Yawning, he rose, stretching out his muscles. What he needed was to let his agitated buffalo loose, but not until Kahn knew they were mates. Until then, it was just too risky. After checking in with each of his men, Reeve headed upstairs, hoping his buffalo would give him a break. He yearned for a good night's sleep in a comfortable bed, but instead, he sat down in front of Kahn's bedroom door. It was the only place his animal would let him sleep, even though their mate was no longer in danger.

~/~/~/~/~

Dakota wasn't sure what woke him up, but it took only a moment for him to realize what was happening. Clutching his belly as another shot of pain ripped through him, he could feel his pup trying to get out. "Slate," he moaned, barely above a whisper. Then as another contraction seized him, he screamed, unable to keep silent anymore. The pup was coming—but it was too soon.

His mate's cry awakened Slate instantly. Jumping up from the cot next to Dakota's bed, he knew what was happening. "Babe, hang on…I'll get Mac." Hurrying out of the room, Slate ran down the hall, yelling Mac's name.

Waking up with a start, Mac sat up on the cot in his office, trying to clear his foggy brain. It was the second night he'd been sleeping in his office to be close to Dakota should the need arise. Hearing the panic in Slate's voice as it drew closer to him, Mac realized what was happening. Quickly donning his scrubs, he sent a text to Colton and Jackson before leaving to tend to Dakota.

Seeing Mac, Slate yelled, "The baby's coming!"

When Mac reached the panicky father-to-be, he grabbed Slate's shoulders and held him until they were eye-to-eye. "Calm down…you won't help Dakota if he senses your fear. Trust me…everything will be okay." Mac waited until Slate nodded his head before asking, "How far apart are the labor pains?"

Slate stared blankly at Mac, his mind trying to remember what he'd read in the New Father's Guide, but to no avail. All he could focus on were his mate's screams of pain.

Shaking his head, Mac turned and headed for Dakota's room, with Slate on his heels. Hurrying to the source of the screams that were now coming just a few minutes apart, he knew the baby would soon force his way out, putting Dakota at grave risk. Turning the corner in the hallway, he saw Colton rush into Dakota's room with Ian and Jackson following. Thank the fucking gods! Pausing, Mac held out his hand, stopping Jackson from entering Dakota's room. Then, pointing over his shoulder to Slate, he said, "Jackson, I need you to keep his wolf under control. It's only gonna get worse before it gets better."

Nodding, Jackson stepped around Mac and, facing Slate, used his Alpha Power to freeze him in place, murmuring, "You can't go in there right now."

While he knew about Jackson's power, Slate had never been the recipient of it until that moment and his wolf wasn't having any part of it. Their mate was in pain and needed them. Slate's fingers shifted into claws, fur sprouted on his arms, and his face turned into his wolf's. Before Jackson could increase his Alpha Power, Slate completed his shift. Crouched on his four paws, his wolf growled at the Alpha, refusing to obey any command that would keep him from protecting his mate.

Without wasting a second, Jackson increased his power, forcing Slate's wolf to back off. He was loathe to do it—aware of Slate's need to be with Dakota—but had no choice. Slate's wolf posed too much of a threat to Mac, Colton, and Ian—especially when the incision was made in Dakota's belly. The smell of his mate's blood would drive Slate's wolf crazy.

"Steady now, Slate," Maximus commanded, arriving at the scene. Adding his Alpha Power to Jackson's, he forced Slate to shift back to a human. Looking down at his son, curled up in a fetal position on the floor, he reached down and helped him up, murmuring, "Come now, Dakota will be all right." Then glancing at Jackson, he said, "I've got him now…go see to Dakota." Helping his son into an empty room, Maximus kicked the door shut behind him, before sitting down with Slate.

"Where's my brother?" Steel asked worriedly as he joined Jackson.

"In there…with your father," Jackson said, pointing to a door. "Would you get him something to wear? Mac must have some extra scrubs down here somewhere. I have to check on Dakota."

"Got it, babe," Steel said, giving his mate a brief hug before heading to the supply closet.

Pausing outside Dakota's room, Jackson offered up a quick prayer to the gods, asking them to keep his brother safe. Then, opening the door, he entered, stopping at the foot of Dakota's bed.

"We had to put him under in order to save him and the baby," Colton said, softly, holding a mask over Dakota's face.

"Isn't it too soon?" asked Jackson.

"Babies come when they come," Ian replied, handing a scalpel to Mac. "Where's Slate?"

"With Maximus and Steel," Jackson muttered, watching the scalpel cut into his brother's flesh. He was so focused on the surgery, he jumped when an alarm went off, filling the room with a sound that brought dread to him.

"The baby's heart rate is dropping," Colton warned.

"Get him out now!" Ian ordered.

Without hesitating, Mac reached down through the incision and grabbed the baby's body, pulling him out.

Jackson held his breath as the seconds passed without Dakota's baby uttering a sound. He watched as Mac rubbed the infant's back and then turned him upside down, slapping his butt. Suddenly, a powerful cry erupted from the tiny set of lungs. Exhaling, Jackson grinned at Colton, before returning his gaze to the newest member of the Blackwood Pack.

Mac handed the newborn to Ian before turning his attention back to Dakota. "How's he doing?" he asked Colton.

"Fine."

Nodding in acknowledgment, Mac quickly proceeded to close up Dakota's belly, knowing his body would soon heal itself.

Jackson waited until Mac was finished before asking, "Are you sure my brother is okay? When will he come out of the sedation?"

Throwing a bunch of the blood soaked gauzes onto the tray beside him, Mac straightened up and glanced over at the Alpha. "It'll take a while before he's awake…as for how he is…"

Walking over to Jackson, Ian handed him the baby, then placed a hand on his shoulder. "Dakota will be fine…we got to him in time and as far as I could see, the pup didn't cause any damage when Mac extracted him."

"I'm in total agreement," Mac said, brushing the tip of his finger down the baby's downy cheek. "He's gorgeous."

Admiring his nephew, Jackson touched one of the baby's curls and murmured, "He's a heartbreaker, for sure."

Colton said, "He looks just like Dakota did when he was born."

Chuckling, Jackson asked, "How would you know? You were barely a year old."

"Duh," Colton said rolling his eyes. "Mom had pictures of all of us when we were born. She's gonna flip when she sees her newest grandpup."

"Just as Slate will," Mac said, looking at Jackson. "Speaking of Slate, it's time for this little one to meet him, don't you think?"

Nodding, Jackson said, "I'll take him…but come get me when Dakota wakes up."

"I'll stay with Kota until then," Colton assured Jackson.

"Thanks," Jackson murmured. Then, cuddling his nephew close to his chest, he left the room.

"Was that my son crying?" Slate asked, slipping into the clothes Steel had found for him. "Did you hear him?"

"I did," Steel said.

Maximus smiled. "I believe congratulations are in order, son. You're a father!"

"I gotta see Dakota," Slate mumbled, before heading to the door. Opening it, he paused, staring at the bundle in Jackson's arms. "Is that my…"

"Your son? It sure is," Jackson answered, handing the baby to Slate. "Everyone's fine…Dakota is still unconscious from the anesthesia, but Colton is with him."

Reverently, Slate lifted the edge of the blanket, uncovering his son's face. Giving him a gentle smile, he murmured, "Welcome to the world, Maxwell James!"

Peering down at his nephew, Steel said, "Hi Max, I'm your uncle. You look just like your other dad…lucky for you."

Elbowing Steel in his side for his wisecrack, Maximus squeezed in between his two sons, getting his first glimpse of his grandpup. "Welcome, Maxwell…your grandmother and I are glad you're here."

Slate murmured to his father, "He's named after you and Jimmy…the two men who mean the most to Dakota and me."