Chapter 29 Perry
PERRY
I help Abel straighten his collar, then run a hand through his hair.
He’s adorable. Just too cute. He leans into my touch, and I drop a quick kiss on his lips.
Buckle comes up behind me, wrapping me in his hold.
“I know you have both already met Pax and Aaron, but it really means a lot to me that you want to get to know them,” he says.
I turn to our Alpha. “Of course we want to get to know them. They’re part of your family, and that makes them part of ours, too.”
Abel nods and plays with his hair again. Buckle messes it up playfully, causing Abel to exaggerate a fake frown as he smooths it back down. I can’t remember feeling this content in my entire life. It’s almost too good to be true.
Abel licks his lips. “Is it weird to say this is scarier than meeting your family through video call? It’s weird, isn’t it? We’ve met Pax and Aaron before, but now we’re really meeting them.”
I have to agree. Going from casual acquaintance to more is a big step.
As we head over to Pax and Aaron’s for dinner, excitement fills the air.
A friend date with Buckle’s closest people.
It feels like a big step towards our future.
Well, so does being pregnant with Buckle’s kits.
I can’t say I’m surprised one of the condoms broke.
Fate always finds a way if it’s meant to be.
I press a hand protectively on my stomach.
Sure I can’t feel a thing yet, but I will soon enough.
Squirrel shifters are only pregnant for six months. We’ll have to start shopping soon.
I love the walk to Aaron’s house. Buckle’s told us all about how the house is maximalist style decorating and there’s so much to look at. I’m most interested in the gummy bear statue.
It’s the first time he’s bringing both his mates over as a pair, and I think he wants us to make a good impression. Abel and I have met Pax and Aaron separately, but never together. I can tell by the way Buckle keeps glancing backward at us that he’s nervous.
He leads us at a brisk pace, his whole body is wired with anticipation. Abel and I trail behind, hands clasped, our fingers laced so tightly I can feel the blood pulse between our palms.
We’re barely up the porch before Buckle swings open the front door.
In an instant, a wave of chaos rolls out to greet us. There’s a crash from somewhere inside, the urgent shuffling of feet, and a sound, somewhere between a deep moan and a bellow, that makes all three of us freeze in our tracks.
“That’s it, Pax, just breathe,” comes a voice I don’t recognize, bright and calm despite chaos in the air.
Buckle’s nose crinkles, and I’m hit with the full, tangled scent of Omega birthing pheromones.
They’re sharp and sweet, something like ginger and honey, but with an undertone of panic sweat and blood.
Abel goes pale beside me, his pupils blown wide as dinner plates.
He’s never experienced this before, and I barely remember the birth of my last sibling before I left home.
We follow the commotion to the living room, where takeout boxes and baby gear are scattered around the furniture. Strangely, there’s a single, half-eaten orange popsicle melting onto the coffee table.
Aaron greets us in the hallway, sleeves rolled up, hair wild, looking both exasperated and delighted. He wipes his brow with the back of his arm, and there’s a streak of glitter, no doubt from an earlier project.
“Oh, hi!” Aaron grins. “We totally forgot you were coming. Pax went to labor this morning and, well, it’s been a party ever since. But I have a feeling it shouldn’t be much longer.”
A bellow erupts from the back room, followed by a string of obscenities that would make a sailor blush. “AARON, IF YOU DO NOT GET OVER HERE THIS INSTANT I SWEAR TO THE GODDESS—”
Aaron winks. “That’s my cue. Please ignore the mess and help yourselves to anything in the fridge.” He launches himself back toward the war zone without waiting for a reply.
Buckle is rooted to the spot. I can tell he wants to help, but the pheromones are making him a little punch-drunk. He tries to take a steadying breath, but it only makes it worse.
“I… I can’t be here,” he stammers finally, and flees out the front door.
Abel and I look at each other, then at the room, then at each other again. Neither of us is sure what to do, but Abel gives a tiny, determined nod. “Let’s clean up. Then we should make them some dinner,” he says.
He’s always thinking about other people’s bellies before his own. “Let’s make them like a week’s worth of food,” I say. “At least. New babies eat all your time.”
He smiles, a little bashful, and tucks his hair behind his ear. It doesn’t take long to straighten up the living room, so it’s not so much chaos. The kitchen isn’t a mess, so we raid the fridge for ingredients, but there’s not much to work with.
We make a mental list of groceries to pickup, and head back out the door to check on Buckle. He’s slumped on the steps, hands laced behind his neck, hyperventilating into the cold evening. I nudge Abel and he sits down next to our Alpha, gently leaning into his shoulder.
“Sorry,” Buckle says, not meeting our eyes. “I thought I could handle it, but… I’ve never smelled anything that strong before.”
I kneel in front of him, stroking his thigh. “Hey. No one’s mad. Birth is intense. Especially for Alphas. You did great.” Especially considering he’d been in love with Pax for so long.
Buckle finally looks up, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.
Abel mirrors it as he rubs his head over Buckle’s shoulder. “We’re going to make them casseroles so they don’t have to cook for a while.”
“That sounds perfect.” He ruffles Abel’s hair, then mine, and I feel a pulse of joy so strong I have to bite my lip.
We detour to the grocery store and buy at least $150 in cheese alone, pasta, and frozen bread. Buckle insists on carrying every bag, flexing in the parking lot while Abel and I heckle him. The world feels lighter for a moment.
Back at our place, Abel takes over the kitchen with a kind of chaotic energy that makes every step a little faster than necessary.
I chop and grate and wash and mix, playing sous chef.
Buckle hovers, arranging ingredients and taste-testing raw veggies with single-minded focus.
We’re an excellent team, if I do say so myself.
By hour two, we’ve got three lasagnas, a vat of chili, four trays of different casseroles, and at least six containers of homemade soup.
The counter is a disaster, but we’re all glowing with accomplishment.
Every now and then, Buckle leans over and kisses the top of my head, or Abel’s, and for a second I can believe we’re the only three people in the world.
We’re just finishing the last batch of freezer breakfast burritos when Abel’s phone buzzes.
He doesn’t look at it right away. He’s elbow-deep in kneading fresh dough and too focused on the task. I’m the one who notices the screen, a name flashing in sharp, angry letters: ANYA.
I freeze. “Abel,” I say softly, nudging his sleeve. He blinks, then follows my gaze. His face falls. His shoulders drop. The happy bubble we’d been in for hours pops.
“You don’t have to answer,” Buckle says, instantly at Abel’s side. “You don’t owe her anything.”
But Abel shakes his head. “She’ll just keep calling. Better to get it over with.”
He wipes his hands, answers, and puts the phone on speaker. “What do you want?” There’s harshness in his voice that I don’t think I’ve ever heard before.
There’s a long, pregnant pause before Anya answers.
“Your time is almost up.” Anya’s cold, commanding voice crackles through the speaker, and I want to strangle the woman. It’s been a long time since I’ve been violent, but for Abel, I’ll do anything. By the low growls coming from our Alpha, he feels the same.
Buckle’s hands clench tighter. For a second, I actually want to bite someone.
Abel’s jaw tightens, conflicted emotions crossing his face. “Leave me alone, Anya,” he replies, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. “My life is in Mink Hollow.”
Every word he speaks fills me with pride. Abel stands his ground, pushing back against one of the people who caused him so much pain. My heart swells as I watch him assert himself, refusing to let his past dictate his life any longer.
“You don’t have a choice. I’m just giving you the curtesy of telling you we’re coming for you. You were right the other week. I used to be kind to you. Take this as me going back to my roots.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was gentle, but the threat’s still there.
“It’s a little late for that,” Abel says quietly.
“Don’t test me, Abel,” Anya warns, but he cuts her off.
“I’m not afraid of you anymore,” he says, his voice rising slightly, determination etched across his features. “I’m choosing my own future. And my future is with my mates in Mink Hollow.”
With that, he hangs up, the finality of the action echoing in the room. The atmosphere shifts, the warmth we shared minutes ago now tinged with tension and uncertainty.
For a few seconds, nobody moves. Abel looks at his hands as if he’s surprised they’re not shaking. I’m the first to move, wrapping him in my arms.
There’s a mix of pride and concern rumbling in my gut. “You are incredible, Abel. I’m so proud of you for standing up to her. To them.”
His face is still clouded with worry, but there’s a flicker of relief behind his fear. “What if she comes after me?” he asks quietly.
“We’ll protect you.” Buckle kneels in front of us. “No one is taking you away from us. Not now, not ever.”
I can’t shake the feeling that this battle is far from over. The storm looming on the horizon feels closer, but I know we can face it together.
“I won’t let Anya ruin a good day.” Abel fiddles with his phone and pop music blares out. “We won’t let Pax and Aaron go hungry.” He nods and marches right back to the kitchen to finish what we started.