Page 120 of Knotting With A Stranger

“Here we go again,” the doctor says encouragingly. “Baby number two is eager to join the party.”

The second birth happens faster, painful and rushed. With a series of pushes that drain the last of my strength, I’m huffing and screaming out. Our second child enters the world, another cry joining the first.

“A beautiful baby girl,” the doctor announces, and this time, I notice a glimpse of dark hair before she is taken as well.

“One of each,” James says wonderingly. “A son and a daughter.”

“Perfect,” Hunter agrees, his voice suspiciously rough.

Archer seems beyond words for once, his eyes fixed on the two tiny bundles being tended to across the room.

After what seems like an eternity but is probably only minutes, the nurses bring our cleaned and swaddled babies back, placing one in my arms and, after a moment’s hesitation, the other in James’s waiting hands.

“Hello, little ones,” I whisper, staring down at the tiny, perfect face of my son. “Welcome to the world.”

Hunter and Archer crowd close, all four of us forming a tight circle around the newest members of our family. Our daughter yawns in James’s arms, her tiny fist escaping the swaddle to wave in the air.

“She’s going to be a fighter,” Hunter predicts, gently capturing the miniature hand with one finger.

“And he looks like a thinker,” Archer adds, gazing at our son’s serious expression.

“What are we naming these perfect creations?” Archer asks.

We’d spent months debating names, never quite reaching a consensus. Now, looking at their tiny faces, I suddenly know exactly what they should be called.

“Sage and Blake,” I suggest, watching for their reactions. “Herbs, not just spices—essential ingredients that make everything better, just like they will.”

“Sage and Blake,” James repeats, testing the names. “I love it.”

“Just perfect for them,” Archer approves.

“Strong names,” Hunter adds, gently rocking Sage in his massive arms. “Names they can grow into.”

“Sage Eleanor and Blake Malcolm,” I elaborate, adding the middle names we’d agreed on months ago—Eleanor for my mother, Malcolm for Hunter’s grandfather.

As we sit together in the quiet aftermath of birth, our tiny family expanded, I’m overwhelmed by a wave of gratitude so deep, it brings fresh tears to my eyes.

“Thank you,” Hunter says suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper. “For giving us this family.”

“For trusting us with your heart,” James adds, his finger gently stroking Sage’s cheek.

“For crashing your car in that snowstorm,” Archer finishes with a watery smile. “Best accident ever.”

I laugh through my tears, exhausted but happier than I’ve ever been. “Thank you for finding me. For keeping me. For loving me.”

Our twins sleep peacefully. How fiercely they are already loved. I can’t stop smiling.

And as Sage yawns and Blake stretches in Hunter’s careful hold, as my three Alphas exchange looks of wonder and pride, I know these tiny humans are born of love, hope, and just a touch of magic. They are the sweetest, most precious creations we’ve brought into the world.

Our family recipe—unconventional, unexpected, and absolutely perfect.

---