Page 139 of Red River

"The more I look at you, the more I can’t believe how much you remind me of myself," Dad murmured, tilting his head slightly. "Your looks!"

"That’s probably a good thing—you’re really pretty," Lake mumbled, then immediately flushed red.

Dad laughed into his fist. "Well, thank you for the lovely compliment!"

"If you knew how old Granddad actually is, you’d be even more surprised," I muttered. "The magic of True Mates!"

I was about to say something else when suddenly, my contractions strengthened—shifting in a way I knew meant things were progressing fast. I spread my legs a little, and Archer immediately slid behind me, wrapping his arms around me. The moment he did, all the discomfort, all that stretching feeling—it just vanished.

"Ohhh, that’s so much better," I sighed, leaning back against his broad chest.

Dad smiled softly.

When I introduced my parents to Archer, they were pretty shocked. They had first seen him in Igor’s video, but they weren’t sure what our relationship was. Skye was the only one who had guessed, piecing together things Archer had mentioned to him back in college. But he hadn’t said a word to our parents—since he wasn’t sure if I even wanted to reconnect with them. He didn’t want to give them false hope, especially without knowing whether Thomas was still in the picture.

So they knew nothing about Archer at first, but interestingly, from the very beginning, their approach to him was completely different from how they had treated Thomas—almost like they could sense his energy.

My dad had a peculiar way of interacting with Archer—almost shy, rarely addressing him directly, avoiding looking directly into his eyes.

For some reason, Archer’s energy somehow intimidated him, which made me realize that perhaps my father’s softer, more relaxed temperament had always been the perfect match for my dad, allowing his delicate personality to bloom and thrive.

In the presence of such a strong, dominant alpha like Archer, my dad seemed kinda… smaller, more timid.

But my own energy was way more nervous and erratic than my dad’s. That’s why Archer’s steady, unwavering presence was the perfect match for my turbulent emotions.

Dad perched on the edge of the bed, watching me carefully.

Then, another wave of contractions hit—stronger, pushing the baby downward. A deep sound escaped my throat, and Dad quickly moved closer, slightly parting my robe.

"I can see the head! This is it, River, just a little more!" He flashed me an encouraging grin.

I focused, feeling another contraction building inside me. I knew this would go fast—this was my sixth birth, and each one had been shorter than the last. In just a moment, I would be holding my son in my arms.

"Almost there," Dad whispered. "You’re doing amazing."

He leaned forward, looking between my legs—and suddenly, his brow furrowed, like something had caught him off guard.

"One more push. Just one more."

I concentrated, and moments later, I felt that unmistakable, incomparable sensation—the moment my son’s body slipped free.

But the look on my dad’s face told me something was different. Feeling a wave of unease, I leaned forward, pulling my robe aside, and my eyes landed on my baby’s slippery body.

"A… purple… alpha?"

I blinked in disbelief as Archer let out a low, approving rumble.

Dad lifted the newborn slightly, and that’s when I saw them—thin, crimson-red lines tracing along his limbs and down his back. Just like my brother Storm’s purple ones… except these were red!

I stared in shock as Dad placed the baby on my chest. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his warm body, gazing at his tiny face.

"Is there such a thing as a red alpha? Or is he the same as purple, just with a different color?" I glanced around, but their faces were clueless. Well, that wasn’t important anyway—the baby was healthy, and that was what mattered.

"My son," I whispered. "Our son."

Archer reached out, gently touching the baby’s head, then took his tiny hand and gave it a little shake, as if greeting him.

"Hey there, little guy."

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