Page 156 of Alpha's Regret: My Luna Has A Son

“I am, thanks to you!” Valen says, rubbing his eyes.

I open my eyes to see my mate groan and scrub a hand down his face, trying to wake up.

“Please, Dad. Please, Dad,” Valarian repeats, shaking his father's shoulder.

“What time is it?” Valen yawns.

“Breakfast time!”

“Isn't your mother up?” Valen yawns, and I quickly close my eyes, pretending to be asleep; I really don’t want to get out of bed. Valarian rolls beside me, his fingers prying my eyes open, and I try not to smile as I fake sleep, though I notice his lips are covered in chocolate.

“Leave her, let her sleep,” Valen says, hauling his ass out of bed while tapping Valarian's leg. Valarian stands on the bed before jumping off it onto his father’s back, clinging to him like a spider monkey and causing him to groan.

“Geez, what's got into you?” Valen whines.

“I want pancakes, but we need more chocolate chips.”

“There’s a whole packet in the fridge.”

I chuckle, knowing the evidence is on Valarian's face. Valen turns, hearing me, and I quickly close my eyes again and snuggle back under the blanket, trying to dive back into sleep.

I’m awoken from snuggling beneath the blankets a while later when Valen's voice whispers in my ear.

“Faker, I know you're awake; you just didn't want to get up,” he says, jamming his fingers in my ribs, making me jump. “Make sure you take an umbrella to work, too. I heard on the radio a storm is headed our way,” Valen tells me, and I groan.

“I’m not going,” I tell him, adding some fake coughs for dramatics. He tickles me, gripping the tops of my thighs through the blanket.

“Stop, stop! Okay, I’m awake, I’ll go to work!” I laugh when I hear feet rushing up the hall. Valarian calls out for his father, and I giggle as Valen yanks the blanket up, climbing under and hiding behind me.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Hiding from the hyperactive demon-spawn—he ate an entire bag of chocolate chips, and he made me iron his shirt twice. He’s like OCD on steroids,” Valen growls, trying to lie as flat as possible behind me and failing. Valarian wanders into the room and peers around.

“Have you seen Dad?”

I point to the mound under the blanket beside me with a smile. Valarian walks around the edge of the bed to my side before throwing the blanket back and looking at his father.

“My shoelaces don't match,” our son says, looking down at his shoes. Valen peers over the edge of the bed.

“They look fine to me,” he says, but Valarian looks at him expectantly, and I chuckle.

“Your mother will fix them.”

“But Mom ties them funny; can you fix them?” he says, pulling on his father's arm. Valen groans, but climbs back out of bed and bends down, fixing his shoelaces.

“There, better?”

“No. That string is long now.”

Valen's frustration comes through the bond as he tries to fix the shoes. It’s only on the third attempt that Valarian is finally happy enough about them. I glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table, knowing he’ll have to run him to school soon. Valen lies back down and sighs.

“Uh, you gotta run him to school,” I tell him.

“We still have half an hour; it's like a five-minute drive at most. And don't you have work?” he asks.

“I'm faking sick.”

“Well, you better fake it better than your lame fake sleeping; you know it doesn't look good when the boss fakes sick, right?” he mocks.

---