Bonus Chapter
Annika
Laughter filled the square, warm and vibrant, weaving through the clatter of plates and the hum of conversation. The long tables stretched across the square, lined with food and surrounded by faces, familiar, smiling, alive. It felt surreal to see everyone here, whole and happy, after everything we’d been through.
I rested my hand on my belly, feeling the gentle swell beneath my palm. Our baby stirred faintly, a soft flutter, and my heart warmed. Lucas caught the motion and reached under the table to place his hand over mine, his touch grounding me in the moment.
“Are you full yet?” he teased, leaning close so only I could hear. “Or should I grab another plate just in case you’re eating for two... or three?”
I laughed, giving him a playful shove with my shoulder. “Don’t start. One’s more than enough.”
“Fine, but you can’t blame me for spoiling you.” His grin softened, and his eyes lingered on me a little longer than necessary. It made my heart skip, the way he still looked at me like I was the most important thing in the world.
Across the table, Callum was already deep into another ridiculous story, gesturing wildly with a half-eaten loaf of bread as he reenacted some moment from the battle. Kael, sitting beside him, looked both amused and exasperated, shaking his head but not bothering to interrupt.
I had no idea how he knew about this celebratory feast we arranged upon having fixed up a large portion of the town, but I didn’t question it. I didn’t question anything anymore. All that mattered was that we were all here, that we all survived… together.
“Kael, if you’re going to sit there glaring at Callum, at least have some more stew while you’re at it,” I called out, earning a round of laughter from everyone within earshot.
Kael smirked and raised his bowl in a mock toast. “I’m glaring because I’m trying to enjoy this feast without hearing about how Callum single-handedly defeated half the shifters.”
Callum snorted. “I never said half… maybe a third.”
More laughter, more smiles. It was loud and chaotic, but it was perfect.
Lucas leaned in again, his lips brushing against my temple. “You’re glowing, you know that?”
“It’s just the lanterns,” I said, but my voice wavered, and I knew he could hear the emotion in it.
“No,” he said softly. “It’s you.”
I blinked quickly, willing my tears away. I’d cried enough over loss, over fear. This… all of this was joy, and it was still overwhelming sometimes.
I looked out at the square, at the lights strung across the tables and the people we loved filling every corner. It wasn’t perfect. The town was still rebuilding, and scars lingered, both seen and unseen. But we were here. We were together. And we had a future.
As if reading my mind, Lucas stood, lifting his cup, and the chatter around the table slowly quieted. All eyes turned to him, faces glowing in the warm light of the lanterns strung above us. I felt his hand brush my shoulder as he stepped forward, and even though he wasn’t touching me anymore, I could still feel the warmth he left behind.
He cleared his throat, but there was a softness in his expression, a vulnerability I didn’t often see in him. It made my heart ache in the best way.
“To all of you,” he began, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “To every single person who isn’t here, to all of you who are here, who fought, who endured, and who survived.” He paused, his eyes sweeping over the faces gathered around us. “You didn’t just survive. You rebuilt. You chose hope when fear would’ve been easier.”
The crowd murmured, some nodding, others dabbing at their eyes. My throat tightened, and I clutched the edge of the table to keep my emotions steady.
Lucas’s gaze flicked to me then, softening even more before he looked back at everyone else. “I’ve always believed that strength wasn’t just about how hard you can hit. It’s about how much you can carry, how much you can lose and still keep going.”
His voice dropped just a little, but it carried, like it was meant for every single soul in that square. “You all carried each other when things fell apart. And you reminded me that this town… our home… isn’t just made of wood and stone. It’s made of us. And no matter what comes next, we’ll face it the same way we always have… together.”
A wave of cheers and applause broke out, and I blinked hard, pressing my fingertips to the corners of my eyes. Lucas turned back to me then, his expression melting into something softer, just for me.
“To all of you,” he said again, raising his cup higher. “And to what’s still to come.”
“To what’s still to come!” the crowd echoed, cups clinking, voices rising.
Lucas sat down beside me again, his hand instantly finding mine. I squeezed it, barely able to speak past the lump in my throat.
That was when pain struck like lightning, sharp and sudden, cutting through the warmth of the celebration. My breath hitched, and the cup I’d been holding slipped from my fingers, hitting the ground with a dull thud.
“Annika?” Lucas was already at my side, his voice tight with worry.
I gripped his arm, another wave of pain rolling through me, and I couldn’t answer right away. My nails dug into his sleeve, and his other hand came up to steady me.
“It’s happening,” I managed to choke out, the words breathless.
Everything after that was a blur of voices and movement. The women surrounded me, guiding me gently but firmly toward our cottage. I barely registered Lucas shouting for someone to bring water, or Callum barking orders to clear the way.
By the time we reached the bed, the contractions were coming so quickly, it felt like my entire body was splintering apart. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and I clutched the blankets beneath me, gasping through the pain.
“Breathe, Annika,” one of the women murmured, dabbing my forehead with a cool cloth.
I nodded, but the command felt impossible. The pain wasn’t stopping… it wasn’t easing… it was fire and thunder and—
“Look at me.”
Lucas’s voice snapped me out of the spiral. I turned toward him, finding his eyes locked on mine, steady and sure.
“You’ve got this,” he said, his hand sliding into mine, fingers strong and unwavering. “You’re the strongest person I know.”
Tears burned at the edges of my vision, but I didn’t look away from him. Another contraction hit, and I bore down, gripping his hand so hard I thought I might break it.
“It’s almost time,” one of the women said, her voice calm but urgent. “Push now, Annika. Push.”
I screamed as I did, the pain searing through me, but Lucas never let go, never stopped murmuring reassurances.
And then suddenly, there it was. The sharpest pain, the final push, and then a cry.
The loudest, most perfect cry I’d ever heard.
The room erupted into movement and voices, but all I could focus on was the tiny, squirming bundle being placed against my chest. Tears blurred my vision, but I saw him.
Dark hair, red cheeks, so small and warm.
Lucas’s hand trembled as it brushed my shoulder, his voice breaking. “He’s perfect.”
I looked up at him, tears streaming freely now. “He is.”
Relief crashed through me, so overwhelming I almost collapsed into the bed. But the sound of our son’s cries, the feel of his tiny body against mine, kept me grounded.
I stared down at the tiny bundle in my arms, his soft breaths warm against my skin. He had quieted now, tucked safely beneath the blanket the women had wrapped around him, but I couldn’t stop looking at him. Couldn’t stop marveling at how perfect he was. Every little detail… his tiny fingers curled into fists, his impossibly small nose, the faintest dusting of dark hair. It felt like a miracle.
Lucas sat beside me, leaning in so close his arm brushed mine. His eyes hadn’t left our son either, full of awe and wonder, but there was something else there too. Something deeper. A quiet protectiveness that made my chest ache.
“Aiden…” I whispered.
Lucas smiled, and it was the kind of smile that lit up his whole face, the kind that made my stomach flutter even now. He brushed a finger gently against Aiden’s cheek.
“Aiden,” he said, testing it out. His voice was rough, heavy with emotion. “Yeah. It’s perfect.”
Tears welled in my eyes again, and this time I didn’t try to stop them. “Aiden,” I repeated, leaning down to press a soft kiss to our son’s forehead.
Lucas wrapped his arm around me, holding us both close, and I melted into him, letting the warmth of his embrace surround me.
“You’re going to be so loved,” I whispered to Aiden, my heart swelling with every word. “So loved.”
Lucas kissed the top of my head, his voice soft. “And protected. Always.”
*****
Enjoy what you read? Then you’ll love book 3 of the series!