Page 43 of Finding Forever with the Alpha Pack

Barrett rises to his feet, smiling that charming smile of his. “What can I say? My son loves me.” His eyes twinkle with pride, but I catch the mischievous glint behind them.

I can’t help but laugh, hugging Dante close to my chest. “Yeah, yeah, but I’m his mother, too.”

Barrett snuggles closer, his hand gently brushing the tiny foot of our son. His voice is soft, almost reverent, as he whispers, “We made a beautiful baby together.” Dante shifts back into his human form, chubby baby arms open wide as his little hand slaps my chest.

I smile, my heart swelling with warmth as I kiss our baby’s cheek, rumbling softly in contentment. “That we did.”

“All of Gracie’s babies are absolutely adorable,” Ethan rumbles from down the hall, his voice carrying that familiar mix of pride and affection. As he approaches, the sight of him with Bishop nestled against his chest makes my wolf stir with satisfaction.

“That’s the truth,” Barrett adds, his eyes soft as we head toward the den. I lean down, pressing a kiss to his temple before wrapping my arm around him, pulling him even closer.

“How are the older kids doing with their hunting training?” I ask, glancing up at Ethan. There’s an air of pride around him as he adjusts Bishop, his hand moving protectively over our son’s small back.

“Fantastically, actually,” Ethan says, his chest puffing slightly. “One day, these little ones will run with the rest of the children as a pack of their own.” He kisses Bishop’s forehead, his movements gentle as if handling something incredibly fragile. The sight pulls at something deep inside me.

“As firstborn, Deacon will be alpha. Or,” I add thoughtfully, “we could ask the kids if they want to take the alpha trials. Let the trials decide.” My gaze shifts between the two boys in our arms, the weight of their future hanging in the air. It’s a conversation for another day, but the thought lingers.

As we step into the den, Lorcan is already there, rocking slowly in the chair with Maeve cradled against his chest. The soft creak of the chair is the only sound in the room, and I move quietly so as not to disturb the peaceful moment.

“Hey, Lor,” I whisper, keeping my voice low, “how’s Maeve doing?”

“She’s a bonny wee miracle. She is,” Lorcan replies, his Scottish lilt thick with love as he kisses the crown of her head. Maeve’s tiny strawberry ringlets match the color of his beard, and I can’t help but smile at how perfectly she fits in his arms.

“I wonder what color her wolf will be,” I murmur, moving closer. I place my hand over Lorcan’s and share my vision with him, letting him see his daughter through my eyes, if only for a little while. His breath catches, and I feel his fingers tighten around mine.

“I’m twice blessed, my love,” he says softly, his voice thick with emotion. He kisses the back of my hand gently before glancing down at Maeve. “She may be ready to eat again.”

I take Maeve from him, her warmth settling against me, and I feel my wolf rumbling in satisfaction. “It’s time to feed Momma again,” Ethan says, stepping beside us. “Let’s head into the dining room. I’ll cook something, assuming Mom isn’t already in there.”

I pull back my vision, smiling as Barrett helps Lorcan to his feet. “Food sounds like a great idea,” I admit, just as my stomach growls loudly. The guys laugh, and I can’t help but chuckle along with them.

Together, we make our way toward the dining room, the sounds of our laughter echoing through the halls. For the first time in what feels like ages, everything feels just right.

I sit nestled against Lorcan,the warmth of his body comforting as I breastfeed Maeve and Dante. My wolf hums softly to both babies while they latch on. That gentle rumbling sound filling the room with an almost hypnotic peace. I can feel my eyelids growing heavy, the combination of feeding and the babies’ contentment lulling me into that familiar, sleepy haze. Ethan is at the stove, working his magic, the savory scent of pepper steak and my favorite potatoes with onions filling the air. My stomach rumbles, reminding me how much I love his cooking, but it’s funny how every time the babies sleep, I drift off right with them.

The clatter of a plate hitting the table in front of me jolts me out of my drowsiness, and I blink, a soft laugh escaping my lips. “Yum, that smells so good.” I breathe in deep, savoring the mouthwatering scent of the meal.

“Want me to feed it to you, Gracie?” Ethan raises his eyebrows, glancing from my arms full of babies to the food sitting in front of me.

I laugh, the thought almost too tempting. “That would be helpful.” I sigh, looking at the plate longingly. “It’s times like this. I wish I had four arms.”

“That’s what we’re here for, lass.” Lorcan leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of my head, his breath warm against my hair.“Need me to take a wee one, or are they still eating?” His nose brushes against my hair, and I feel my body relax into him even more.

“Still eating,” I murmur, nuzzling Maeve’s tiny head. “As soon as Maeve’s done, I promise to pass her back.” Just as I say it, Dante detaches with a little squirm.

“Barrett, your son is looking for you,” I call out, knowing he’s been hovering nearby, waiting for his turn.

I’ve never seen Barrett move so fast. He practically leaps to my side, scooping Dante out of my arms with the biggest grin on his face. “Who’s the daddy? I’m the daddy,” he croons, cradling Dante close as he sits down, beaming like he’s won the lottery.

I roll my eyes, but there’s no stopping the smile that tugs at my lips. “No more with that boob contraption thing, okay? Eventually, he’s going to reject feeding from me,” I warn, arching a brow at him.

Barrett pouts, his lip jutting out as he sits down with Dante. “Oh, okay...” He trails off, his face the picture of a wounded pup, but he settles in the window seat with his son, content.

Maeve finally pulls away, and I pass her off to Lorcan, who takes her with a soft smile before I reach for Bishop, who Ethan hands over just as smoothly. It’s like playing musical babies around here, but it works. When I glance down at my plate, I notice Ethan’s cut the food up for me, and my heart swells with gratitude. He always thinks ahead like that.

“I have to ask, Ethan,” I start, as I finally dig in. “Why the name Bishop?” He freezes for a moment, his face contorting into a cringe before he sighs.

“You’re probably going to get mad at me for the reason,” he admits, wincing slightly as if bracing himself.

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