Epilogue
Temple
I woke with a start, the room bright and panic seeping in. I rushed to the bassinet, wondering how Kylie hadn’t woken us up all night, only to see her gone. It was only then that I saw my mate was gone too.
Leave it to me to panic.
Of course, my mate was just taking care of our child. As wild as I thought pregnancy was, this postpartum period was just as bad, only in a different way.
I kept asking the goddess for a full night’s sleep, or at least a few solid hours, and then when I finally got it, what did I do? I panicked and rushed out of bed, freaking out.
After a quick stop in the bathroom, I went into the living room where I found my mate holding our sleeping daughter as he tapped with one finger on his laptop.
“Trying to work?” My mate worked a lot, and at first, it used to annoy me because I thought the pack expected too much of him. I soon figured out that my mate loved it. It was he who pushed himself, not others being demanding.
“I’m meeting with a pack next week, trying to help them figure out a better way to deal with their finances.”
My mate had become the go-to person when it came to that kind of thing. Word got out that he was an expert after he helped my brothers’ pack as part of his negotiations to get them back living there, and the calls started coming in almost right away.
He charged for his services, bringing money to our pack.
His services had done a lot of good all the way around.
For so long, packs kept their finances close to their chests, not wanting others to know.
I didn’t understand why. Businesses knew how much other businesses made, and it didn’t impact anything.
Why couldn’t communities? But they historically didn’t.
It still wasn’t open and available to everyone, but it was discussed more, and a lot of that had to do with my mate sharing the different tools and strategies he had.
“I’ll take our sweet girl, and you can get back to it,” I offered.
“I want you to spend this morning relaxing. Maybe take a long bath, eat one of the thousand casseroles we have in the freezer, or go for a walk. Just have some you time before today’s festivities.”
Part of me thought that sounded wonderful, but my chest was filling to the point of discomfort, a reminder that I needed to, at the very least, pump.
Kylie was great about drinking directly from the source, but Gabe loved to be an equal part of her life, including feedings and diapers.
I was producing enough that it made it easy to do both bottles and direct feeds with her.
I grabbed a new milk bag from the counter then took a quick look in the freezer for what to eat this morning and popped one of my faves into the oven.
When we had Kylie, the pack had sent over numerous meals for our freezer, saying that I needed to focus on our baby and not cooking for the first month.
Then the diner sent three coolers full when we stopped by to show off our sweet girl.
Not wanting to be outdone, a few of the packs my mate had helped also contributed. It was over the top.
If we ate one of the frozen meals for every single meal, we still wouldn’t have to cook for another two months. The entire pack freezer was stocked, as well as our one at home. If cooking for people was a love language, we were loved beyond measure.
I pumped and took a long hot shower, not wanting to be gone long enough for a bath. When I came out, Kylie was beginning to stir. “Let me at least get her changed,” I said, and he agreed. When I came back out with her ready for the day, my mate was closing his laptop.
“Breakfast smells delicious. What is it?”
“It’s Layla’s French toast bake. And trust me, it’s better than it smells. Which doesn’t sound possible, but it’s true.”
We barely had it on the table when Gabe’s parents came in. “We were going to offer to come and make you breakfast, but it looks like you’ve got that taken care of.” They had recently moved into their new home, which had just been completed.
It amused me how much this pack wanted to make sure we were fed.
“It looks like maybe you should join us instead,” I said, setting a place at the table for each of them.
Gabe’s father made grabby hands for Kylie, who was thrilled to see him.
The four of us with teeth ate while Kylie went between her grandparents, having the best time of her life.
Mostly, Gabe and his father talked about the pack they were currently helping, while his dad and I discussed heading to town to check out the thrift store for baby clothes—not that she needed any, but there was something fun about the hunt.
After breakfast, we all headed to the clearing where Gabe’s father before him, and now Gabe, held pack meetings.
Only today, it wasn’t a meeting. It was a run in honor of the founding of our pack.
Everyone was there, young and old. Gabe recited the words that every alpha before him had said on this occasion and then called everyone to run.
Kylie and I, along with other pups and some caretakers, stayed behind.
When I first heard about the pack runs, I thought I’d feel left out, but now, I loved them.
It was a time to get to know all the pups and their parents or grandparents or siblings, whoever decided to stay behind with them that run.
It gave me a deep connection to people I might not have otherwise spent time with, and the runs never lasted long.
Some resulted in meat for the month. Others, like today, were just about fun.
When they came barreling back, I instantly spotted my mate in a sea of wolves. He stood out. And I didn’t think that was just because he was an alpha, or just because I loved him and he was my mate. Objectively, he was stunning.
Everyone shifted back, and the festivities moved from the run to a social time where the pack hung out together all day, many bringing not only lunches for themselves but food to share. My back was pressed against a tree trunk, my mate by my side, as our daughter drank her fill.
“It was a nice pack run today,” he said, kissing the top of my head.
“It was,” I agreed. “Do you think Kylie will be able to go one year?”
We still didn’t know if she was a wolf, although her father would say with his full chest that she 100 percent was because wolves were wolves with or without their fur.
“If you’re asking if she’ll shift, I don’t know,” he said softly. “But whether she does or not, she’s perfect. Just like her daddy.”
“I couldn’t agree more. She’s perfect just the way she is, just like you.”
And just like my whole new life, the one I thought would never be mine, one filled with love, acceptance, and a family of my own.