Page 34 of Claimed By the Bookstore Alpha
As the sun rose outside our hospital window, I felt a deep sense of completion. Flynn and I had built a life together that was more magical than any story I'd ever written.
Naya opened her eyes, blinking up at us with that serious expression that seemed to be her default. Flynn immediately leaned closer, speaking to her in a soft voice.
"Hello, little wolf. Welcome to the world. Your papa and I have been waiting for you, and we're going to take such good care of you."
Whether she understood his words or just responded to his voice, Naya focused on Flynn's face. Already, there was a bond forming between them.
"I love you both so much. With my whole heart."
He took my hand and was careful not to jostle Naya. "I love you too. Both of you. Forever."
While the world woke up outside, inside our room, our family was complete. Naya, Flynn, and me. We were ready to write the next chapter of our story together.
FIFTEEN
FLYNN
"Flynn, have you seen Naya’s tail?" Clark yelled from the bedroom, his voice slightly muffled. "The one for her costume?"
"It's in the diaper bag," I called back, adjusting my own wolf ears in the hallway mirror. "Along with extra diapers, wipes, snacks, and approximately seventeen other things we probably don't need for the convention visit."
My mate emerged from the bedroom carrying our one-year-old daughter, both of them in matching gray wolf costumes. Naya’s was complete with tiny ears, a fluffy tail, and paws on her hands and feet. She looked absolutely adorable and completely unbothered by the whole thing, chewing thoughtfully on one of her costume paws.
"She's going to be the hit of the convention," Clark said, spinning our daughter around. Naya giggled, a sound that still made my heart skip even after more than a year of hearing it daily.
"As long as she doesn't howl at inappropriate moments,” I reached out to straighten Naya’s headband. "Remember what happened last week during story time?"
My mate laughed. "That was one time! And it was barely a cry. More like a... enthusiastic vocalization."
Naya had let out what could only be described as a tiny howl during one of Clark's readings, much to the delight of the children and the confusion of their parents. We still weren't sure if it was an early sign of her shifter heritage or just normal baby experimentation with sounds, but it had been adorable either way.
"Besides," my mate continued, settling our daughter into her stroller, "if anyone's going to appreciate a baby wolf, it's comic convention people. They love that."
I snorted. "If only they knew how authentic it is."
The drive to the convention center was surreal in the best possible way. Less than two years ago, I'd been a lonely bookstore owner who'd never been to a convention before. Today, I was driving to that same convention with my mate and our daughter, all of us dressed as wolves, heading to what would hopefully become an annual family tradition.
"Remember the first convention?” my mate asked, as if reading my thoughts. "When you didn't recognize me in my Peter Pan costume?"
"I recognized you," I protested. "Eventually."
"You stared at me for five minutes trying to figure out why I looked familiar."
"I was... processing."
He squeezed my hand. "Best processing ever. Look where it got us."
He was right. That convention had been the turning point for us, the day I’d stepped outside my comfort zone and fallen for Clark's enthusiasm. Now here we were, returning as a family.
The convention was just as overwhelming as I remembered, but this time I had Clark to navigate and Naya to focus on. Our daughter was fascinated by everything and she gurgled andsquealed at the colorful costumes, and the crowd. She reached for people as they passed, babbling happily in baby language.
"Oh my gods, look at the baby wolf!" A teenager in an elaborate anime costume stopped in front of our stroller. "She's so cute! Can I take a picture?"
"Of course.” My mate agreed, and he fell easily into conversation with the guy about costume construction. Naya, meanwhile, seemed to be holding court from her stroller, charming everyone who stopped to admire her costume.
"She's got your people skills," I told my mate as we made our way through the artist alley.
"And your ability to make an impression.” He nodded to the small crowd that had gathered around Naya's stroller. "Look at her. She knows she's the star of the show."
