Page 19 of Soaring and Steadfast

“Shoulda put your bucket on,” Orion taunted as Ohio groaned, rubbing his nose in disbelief.

But Stephanie wasn’t paying attention to any of them anymore. Her gaze sharpened as she turned to Trophy, suspicion creeping into her expression.

“What does he mean by ‘paint,’ Lance?”

Before an answer could come, the sound of approaching footsteps shifted everything. Stephanie turned toward the doorway, her posture stiffening for half a second before a sharp, joyous shriek filled the air.

“Oh my gosh… when did you get here?”

Louis watched as she rushed forward, embracing someone, her laughter unrestrained, her joy pouring into the room like sunlight breaking through a storm. The weight in his chest lifted just a fraction as the noise and movement swirled around him. He stood at the edges of it, feeling both part of the moment and somehow set apart.

“My princess is upgrading to ‘Queen’ soon,” Trophy declared, his voice thick with pride. It was a strange thing to witness—the man who had once been the squadron’s biggest flirt was now utterly devoted, his focus narrowed to the woman carrying his child. Stephanie let out a soft laugh as he fussed over her, urging her into a chair with a touch so gentle, so reverent, that it made something in Louis’s chest ache.

She looked exhausted, the weight of her pregnancy shifting awkwardly as she moved, and Trophy was there—always there—ready to catch her if she faltered. “Now, sit down and putyour feet up. Do you want some punch? I got the strawberry-pineapple stuff you love for you.”

Louis swallowed hard, pushing down a rush of longing he couldn't name. That kind of love—the kind that eclipsed everything else—seemed like a language he had never quite learned.

And then he sawher.

Stephanie’s friend.

She wasn’t just beautiful—she was luminous in a way that stole the air from his lungs. The kind of beauty that wasn’t just about how she looked but about the way she carried herself, with an effortless grace that made his pulse stutter. He fought the urge to stare, but when she turned, meeting his eyes—heaven help him.

Whoa, mercy.

Heat crawled up his neck, and he dropped his gaze, his heart pounding against his ribs like it had been caught in a freefall. He wasn’t a man easily shaken, but something about her unraveled him in a way that made him unsteady on his feet.

Stephanie’s laughter pulled him back, and Trophy gave the signal. The orchestrated moment was at hand, a playful charade that, beneath the surface, held a deeper truth—this was family, forged not by blood but by battle, by loyalty, by love.

“Here we go, fellas…” Tic-Tak grinned, stepping forward first, dropping to one knee like a knight before his queen. The tip of his fake sword hit the floor as he announced, “I, Sir Tic-Tak of the Squadron, do hereby swear my fealty to Queen Stephanie…”

Behind Louis, Ohio muttered, “Do we gotta say all that crap?”

Louis smirked, leaning in just enough to whisper back, “Shut up and learn something, Ohio.”

As the pledges unfolded—some dramatic, some lighthearted—Louis smiled, and then it was his turn. He stepped forward,kneeling before Stephanie. The room, the noise, the chaos—it all fell away.

It was just the two of them now.

“I, Sir Pasteur of the Squadron, promise to be a friend to you both, sharing the word of God’s love with your child. I am truly honored that you’ve asked me to stand in as the baby’s godparent.”

The words felt heavier than he expected, settling deep into his bones. He had always known faith, even when it wavered, and he had his doubts. It had been his anchor in the storm, his compass when everything else felt uncertain. But this… this was different. This was someone choosing him. Trusting him.

Stephanie’s breath hitched, her eyes glistening as she whispered, “You are practically family. You married us, and we are honored to have you as the baby’s godparent, my friend.”

Family.

The word lodged in his throat, too big, too powerful. He glanced at Trophy, whose usual mischief had softened into something real, something steady.

Louis nodded, pressing his lips together to keep from saying something too raw, too exposed. Then, he stood, stepping back, letting the moment settle in his chest like a truth he hadn’t quite grasped yet.

As Moonbeam knelt before Stephanie, her expression changed—something flickered across her face, and then?—

Chaos.

“Hang on. Could someone get me a towel?” Stephanie’s voice cut through the laughter, sharp with urgency.

“A towel?”

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