Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Feel up to visiting the community center today?” Foster asks, leaning his head close to mine on the pillows.
It’s been several days of restless sleep. The baby has been more active than usual, keeping me awake at night with his tiny kicks and pressure on my bladder. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Is Kaitlin joining us, or does our Alpha have more spoiling up his sleeve?”
“I believe,” he starts as he climbs to his knees and helps pull me up to sit on the edge of the bed, “that Shepherd has to work today. So our little princess gets to enjoy all the community center has to offer.”
We pile into the car after breakfast, and Shepherd drives us across town.
My little bug sings along to the playlist Foster made her, unashamed to fill the car with her off-key renditions of popular kids’ songs.
Glancing at her in the rearview mirror, I can’t help but smile.
Gone is my quiet, timid little girl. A few months and a safe space is all it’s taken to shape her into a vibrant ray of sunshine.
Joy swells in my heart alongside gratitude for the men sitting with me. They have helped us break free of the cult’s chains.
Shepherd presses his lips to my cheek before I climb out of the car, sending heat surging through my body.
This last month of pregnancy has me feeling…
spicy. Which is terrifying and exhilarating.
I know sex is technically safe, even knotting, as it can help relax your vaginal walls and encourage delivery.
But knowing that and experiencing it are two different things.
“Call me when you’re ready to go home, Wildfire,” he tells me, giving me a stern look that I easily interpret as his way of warning me not to push myself too far. Rolling my eyes, I wave him off and head into the building. I know my limits.
The community center is bustling by the time we arrive.
There are more kids here than usual. In fact, it looks like all the kids are here, which is rare.
Chance and Vale corral the youngest of the group when they see us walk in, lining them up in front of one of the low coffee tables.
It’s obvious they are hiding something. Foster looks at Sable, seeking their unofficial pack leader for an explanation.
“Well, it looks like I’m late!” A woman calls, carrying an armful of bags through the doors. Several kids rush to help her, which is sweet. Despite the hardships they face, they’re turning out to be great people.
“Mom?” Foster questions, his brows furrowed as he glances at the woman. Is this his mother? That doesn’t seem right. They don’t look alike at all. She looks like…
“My favorite son! Give me a hug! I missed you at the house the other day!” Her arms squeeze him tight enough to make him grunt.
She’s strong for such a tiny woman. Warm, familiar golden-brown eyes turn to me as Foster pulls away.
“You must be Hannah! I’m Brooke, Shepherd’s mom, but you can call me mom.
I am so thrilled to meet you! Sheppie wasn’t joking when he said you were due soon! How long do you have left?”
Foster smothers a laugh at the shell-shocked expression on my face when she pulls me into a hug, too.
“A month,” I choke out, too overwhelmed by the unexpected meeting.
Does Shepherd know she’s here? Given Foster’s surprise, I doubt it.
Am I allowed to meet his mother without him? What do I tell her?
“Not long at all! I’m glad I got to meet you beforehand. Who is this little beauty?”
Kaitlin peeks from behind my legs, her hands wrapped in the bottom of my sweater dress. She seems more cautious than afraid, which is an improvement. “This is my daughter, Kaitlin.”
Brooke leans down and beams at Kait. “Hello, darling. I’m Shepherd’s mom, and if it’s okay with you, I’d like to be your new grandma.”
I’m at a loss for words as I watch my little bug light up, bouncing on her toes. “I loves Shepherd. He’s nice to me. You nice, too? I already has a mean grandma.”
My eyes clench shut as Brooke’s eyes widen, shame burning in my chest. I’m thrown back to the day after Kaitlin was born, when my parents came to visit.
Mother’s nose had scrunched in distaste as she looked down at my daughter.
She refused to hold her or do more than give her a cursory glance. All because she wasn’t a male heir.
As Kait grew, my parents’ treatment of her worsened. I never allowed them to lay a hand on her while I was around, but there were moments I was forced to leave her with Colin that I couldn’t protect her from. That’s my greatest failure—allowing her to be subjected to their cold-hearted cruelty.
“Don’t worry, Princess, Momma Brooke is as sweet as pie!
” He ruffles Kaitlin’s hair and wraps an arm around me, likely sensing the shift in my mindset.
I give him a tight smile and turn to look at the kids still gathered nearby.
If I focus on whatever they’re hiding, I won’t have time to wallow in the past.
“So, Mom, did Shepherd tell you we would be here?” Foster asks.
Brooke pats him on the cheek, her short, graying hair shaking around her face. “You told me all about the program you were starting here. I’ve been coming here to volunteer as often as I can. This little one isn’t the only kid in need of a grandmother to spoil them.”
The soft, grateful look Foster gives her melts my heart. Only a few moments after meeting her, I already know she’s incredible. Kaitlin is going to love having her in our lives. And hopefully, if she can see past my familial connections, I can have a good relationship with her, too.
“Ms. Brooke is the best,” one of the younger kids chimes in. “She taught me to bake cookies!”
“Yeah, she brings us food all the time!” another adds.
Brooke smiles, waving a hand through the air to brush off their praise.
I can see where Shepherd’s kindness comes from.
His drive to help others must have been something he learned from watching his mother as a child.
“Yes, yes, none of that is why we’re here today, is it, boys?
” She directs her question to Sable and his friends.
“No, ma’am. It’s not.” Briar gives me a sheepish glance, while Sable has a sudden interest in looking out the front windows.
The shyness of these two future Alphas is cute, but out of character.
“We know you had to leave your home in New Hampshire, and you don’t have much family, so we wanted to do something to help you get ready for the baby. ”
Sable motions to the other kids, who move away from the coffee table. It’s loaded with poorly wrapped presents and gift bags, all second-hand from a myriad of holidays and occasions. I walk over and peek inside one to see a tiny dump truck covered baby onesie.
Foster joins me, teary-eyed, taking in the effort the kids put in with a grin on his face. “This is awesome, you guys!”
I slide into a chair and grab a package wrapped in nutcracker-covered Christmas paper.
It tears easily beneath my fingers, falling open to reveal a stack of hand-me-down pants and shirts.
Some of these kids face food insecurity; others have no role models at home to guide them.
Yet they put the effort in to gather these clothes to give to us.
Kaitlin joins me at the table, excitedly ripping open the papers and showing me everything she finds inside.
By the time we’re finished, the chair next to me overflows with baby clothes.
Tears cover my cheeks as I run a finger over the front of a onesie embroidered with the words ‘little dude.’ They have no idea how much this means to me. Not the clothes, but their excitement.
“Thank you,” I choke out. “This… it means the world to me. I’ve never had someone want to celebrate my children with me.”
Brooke tsks, lips pulling into a frown, while the kids give me sad or uncomfortable looks. “You’re all going to be great role models.”
The door opens again, and the center’s co-founder, Ursa, joins us. His pack is with him, arms laden with trays of sandwiches and cupcakes for the kids to enjoy. They rush to eat, laughing and joking with each other as the tension around my admission breaks.
A hand grips my shoulder, and I turn to find Brooke standing behind me. “You are family now, Hannah. All three of you. We Wilsons take care of our own.”
We spend the afternoon laughing and chatting, watching the older kids teach Kaitlin how to play all the games offered in the center.
My heart is full to overflowing by the time Shepherd arrives to pick us up.
He rolls his eyes when he sees his mother sitting beside me, lightly scolding her for not telling him she was planning all this.
Exhaustion weighs me down. I can barely hold my eyes open as I crawl into bed. For the first time in days, I fall asleep easily and don’t wake until morning.
The dryer buzzes, letting me know another load of laundry is done.
I’ve been washing all the clothes we got at the impromptu baby shower yesterday, getting them ready to sort into bins.
With the crib and changing table set up in the guest room, there isn’t enough space for an extra dresser.
The bed is tall enough for me to slide collapsible bins underneath, which gives me the perfect spot to hide the clothes that need to be stored until the baby is bigger.
Foster leans against the door frame, studying the packed room with a frown. “We need more space.”
I shrug, not voicing my agreement. This is their home; I won’t ask them to move for my sake.
He crosses the room and sits cross-legged beside me, grabbing a pile of unfolded clothes and folding them. “You know, when we moved in here, we thought it would be years before we expanded our pack. The apartment may be home now, but it was never meant to last forever.”
“Look at you now,” I tease, bumping my shoulder into his, “two new mates and two kids. All of whom you found in a few short months.”