Page 20 of The Wolves At My Sides

I leaned in close looking down at Baby Faran. He blinked at me with big eyes and smiled before raising a hand and letting it fall still on my nose. I froze but couldn’t stop smiling. He patted my nose a few clumsy times before his hand fell down my cheek onto his own belly.

“He’s cute,” I said.

“He’s perfect,” Irwin said.

“We’re going to have a pup like him,”my wolf chimed into my thoughts.

I managed not to blush, because being that close to Baby Faran made it hard to think about anything except how little he was. Before I knew what was happening, Irwin slipped him from the crook of his own arm into mine. I leaned back against the chair and tightened my grip around him instinctively.

“See, he likes you,” Irwin said. “We think it’s important that he gets to know you too.”

I ran my free hand over his soft hair and let out a sigh. He was soft in the crook of my arm and smelled like milk and hope. I didn’t say it to his parents, but I knew I’d do anything to keep him from being as miserable as I was. His eyes sparkled with faith in the universe, and I’d do anything to ensure he never lost that light.

“See, if their pup is this happy, they’re good parents. That means we can trust our mates,”my wolf chimed into my thoughts wagging his tail again.

Chapter Fifteen

Marcus

The first few weeks of Fen living with us was a learning curve. I worked normally most of the time, because this clearly wasn’t our mating moon. Fen wasn’t ready for any of that. It was more like a roommate-moon. That wasn’t fair to say. Being around Fen certainly didn’t feel like being around a roommate and I found my thoughts drifting to him more and more often as the days passed.

Fen’s love language was definitely acts of service. As he settled in, he took to cooking most of our meals. Irwin and I both tried to protest at different times and explain to him we weren’t looking to turn him into a domestic servant.

“I enjoy cooking. I never really did much of it when I worked at restaurants, because all the managers falsely thought I had charisma and wanted me to wait tables. The tips were good. So, I never complained. Besides, I need something to give rhythm to my days. You both have jobs and a baby and I ---” Fen took a deep breath and turned away from the stove wielding a spatula. “Look, I’m trying to figure this out too. This whole where do I fit in/what do I want thing. I’m cooking because it’s something I enjoy that I can do for both of you. I---”

He stopped speaking, without finishing his thought, and we both waited for him to say more. Only he turned his back to us and resumed cooking. Neither of us said anything again except for him to tell us if he needed a break from being the one who cooked most of our meals. He was a good cook too. So, there wasn’t anything to complain about.

As the days passed on, he and Faran bonded, and I was pretty sure by the two week point our kiddo fully caught onto the fact he gained a third daddy. Fen was still a bit shy about taking care of him and always asked permission before picking him up. As scared as he was to first hold our baby, holding him was when he seemed the most relaxed.

Eventually the news of Irwin and I meeting our third trickled back home to the Sanctuary and I had to reassure my parents that we knew they loved us, but we weren’t ready for a mating feast. If it had only been my sire on the line, I would’ve explained that there had been no mating yet. The thought of saying it to my carrier made it feel like I was violating everyone’s privacy.

Every night Fen retired to his own room and as much as I wanted him, I refused to press the issue. As confused as I was about what to do, I imagined Fen was probably at least twice that confused.

Some days all three of us were on edge unless Baby Faran was awake. The tension between us grew with each passing minute. The true-mate response magic constantly tugged us together, but we refused to answer the call. Sometimes it felt as if I were walking around underwater reaching out for someone drowning in their own emotions, but they never reached back. The therapist in me had a lot to say about what might help Fen, but he had to choose his own path. I only hoped it would lead him to us.

Chapter Sixteen

Irwin

In the early days of Fen living with us, I found it easier to connect with him than Marcus did. Maybe it was because we were both omegas or perhaps it was that we had a built-in conversation topic when it came to my books and the story of his parents. We talked books in circles for hours and hours some days. Only drifting back to his story when something reminded him of another detail. Locked in my office on the top floor of our home the world of Fen expanded before me. He liked plenty of things despite saying he had no hobbies. He collected recipes from restaurant dishes he enjoyed, and he preferred to live his life to a background of classical music. He bought items online that had been stolen from the Valen strongholds and hid them.

“People are sick. They like collecting that stuff from those horror houses,” he said one afternoon showing me a bloodstained tea kettle that had arrived by drone that morning. “I remember this one. It’s real.” He flipped it over and on the bottom was a triangular scratch. “One of the other little kids got into so much trouble for doing that. I don’t want it. I don’t want any of it, but I don’t want the sickos to have it either. They think he was onto something, but he was just sick in the head.”

“Do you want a hammer?” I asked, shifting a sleeping Baby Faran from one arm to the other.

“Actually, would you think I was weird if I said yes?” He asked, his eyes aglow with mischief.

“Not at all. Let me just tuck Faran into his crib real quick,” I said, fueled by the urgency dancing on Fen’s scent.

I gave Marcus a head’s up over our mating link because I didn’t want him to freak out at all the crashing that would take place in the back yard. He was at work, but his family had ensured him working never meant he was too far away from home.

I found a hammer inside Marcus’s toolbox in the laundry room. He was a real Mister Fix-It around the village. From wiring to building, he seemed to learn it all growing up at the Sanctuary. I also brought out a towel to lay the ceramic pot on. I didn’t want anyone stepping on glass later if we could help it.

A few minutes after I offered him the hammer, Fen and I knelt down near the towel, and he held the teapot one last time. His eyes shined with tears, but I didn’t ask questions. Some demons we all fought on our own. Some demons no one else would ever understand. Instead, I waited until he laid it down in the center of the black towel and then I handed him the hammer.

He tapped it against the ceramic once testing its weight. Then he glanced at the house.

“I don’t think it’ll wake him up,” I said.

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