Chapter 15 Flynn
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 and squealed 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."
We stopped at Mrs. Chancellor’s booth—she'd been doing conventions for years, apparently—and she immediately cooed over Naya’s costume. "I love it. And your little one looks like she was born for this."
"She was.” My mate lifted our daughter out of her stroller so the older woman could get a better look. “She was literally born into a family of storytellers and costume enthusiasts."
"The next generation," Mrs. Chancellor said approvingly. "She'll probably be designing her own costumes before she can walk properly."
As if to prove the point, Naya grabbed one of the paintbrushes and waved it around as if she was conducting an orchestra. Everyone laughed, and I experienced the overwhelming love for my daughter.
We spent the afternoon wandering the convention. Naya napped in her stroller during the quieter moments and she charming vendors during the busier ones. Clark bought her a tiny book about baby dragons. It was research he claimed and I relaxed in a way I never had at public events before.
"You know what the best part is?" Clark said as we sat in the food court, sharing convention nachos while Naya munched on her own snacks.
"What's that?"
"She's going to grow up thinking this is normal. Conventions, costumes, bookstores full of shifter families, dragon books..." He indicated the hubbub around us. "She won't know that some people think magic isn't real."
"Lucky her.” I observed our daughter examine a piece of cheese before deciding it was acceptable.
"Lucky us," he corrected me. "A year ago, did you ever imagine this?"
I glanced around at the convention mayhem, my mate in his wolf ears grinning at me and at our daughter in her tiny costume making friends with strangers. A year ago, I'd been afraid to let anyone close, convinced that my secrets made me incompatible with any kind of real happiness.
"Never," I admitted. "I thought I was meant to be alone."
"And now?"
"Now I can't imagine being anywhere else."
Naya chose that moment to reach for me, using her grabby hands that meant she wanted to be held. I scooped her up, and she settled against my chest, content to watch the world from her favorite perch.
When we packed up to leave, Naya had fallen asleep in her stroller surrounded by the day's small treasures.
"Same time next year?" my mate asked as we loaded the car.
"Wouldn't miss it," I said. "Though we might need bigger costumes by then."
As we drove home through the evening light, I thought about all the ways my life had changed since that first day Clark walked into my store. I was a father and a mate and I’d made peace with my pack that extended far beyond just blood relations.
Turning Pages was thriving and busier than ever with families and kids who treated it like a second home. Our apartment was filled with the pandemonium and joy of raising a baby. Our community had embraced us and supported us through every milestone.
And somewhere in the city, there were other children growing up knowing that magic was real and love came in all forms.
Naya stirred in her car seat, making a small sound in her sleep that might have been a purr or might have been perfectly normal baby noise. Either way, it pleased my wolf.
"I love you," Clark said quietly from the passenger seat.
“Love you too. Both of you. All of this."
"Forever?"
"Forever," I promised, and meant it with every fiber of my being.
Naya sighed in her sleep, one tiny fist still clutching the wolf ears from her costume.