Epilogue – David
15 years later
I t was a wonderful summer evening, and the barbecue in our backyard was slowly winding down. As my mate was handing out glasses of her popular mint lemonade, I stood on the porch, just taking the scene before me in. Everyone we loved was here except for Alicia and Alex, who had taken their pups to Alaska for the summer. Helen was standing with her hands on her hips, scolding Tim for hitting Jack, as Charlie was standing next to her and trying to keep a straight face and not laugh at how sheepish the pups seemed in front of their Beta mother.
John and Elizabeth were talking animatedly to Jane while Thomas was close by, hanging on every word out of Nora’s mouth. Was I like that when Gina and I were first mated? Lucy and Calum were also watching the newly mated couple, Calum with his fists clenched and Lucy with a soft, loving look. Declan was away, staying with his grandparents for the summer. Otherwise, he’d be running around, roughhousing with Liam and Mariah’s pup like he always did.
My mother was laughing at something Qasim and Aisha were telling her and I couldn’t wait to hear the story because their adventures were always fascinating. Gina was in awe of Qasim’s ability to somehow become even more optimistic and joyful as he got older. He and his mate hadn't been blessed with pups, but that hadn't made them sad or bitter; on the contrary, they were among the most loving and devoted couples we knew. They spent all their free time traveling and spoiling each other.
I could still remember how much Gina cried when we found out she was pregnant with Evan shortly after her first heat with me. During the months that followed, she kept crying, often and uncontrollably, as if her body was expelling all of the accumulated insecurities, fears, and worries through her tear ducts. It was as if the pregnancy was healing a cut in her heart that was carelessly inflicted by a blade dipped in hatred. When Evan was born, I cried too.
Due to her history of substance abuse, Gina was adamant about not taking any pain-relieving medications as she gave birth. Seeing and feeling my mate go through labor caused me to be absolutely against the idea of another pup. My mate, of course, wore me down, and three years later, our little Dorothy was born.
I was in love with Regina from the moment I saw her, a savage beauty in a bloodstained dress, and every time she’d given birth, I was gifted another glimpse of that captivating juxtaposition. After hours of harrowing pain and the expulsion of various bodily fluids, the room would be filled with the scent of my mate’s blood, and yet her face would be serene and gorgeous, bathed in a happy glow. Every time I witnessed it, it made me love and appreciate her even more.
Regina was an attentive, thoughtful, gentle, and caring mother, but she was also strict in the things that mattered to us as parents, and firm with the boundaries she’d set for our pups. We’d fully taken advantage of the years when our pups had been young, when their faces and feet had been tiny and soft. Now they were 14 and 11, and their faces and feet had gotten long and bony, and they were coming closer and closer to the form they would be wearing into adulthood. Only rarely, mostly when they were asleep, their faces would revert to the softness and pupness they had once held, and Gina and I would look at them for a long time while holding each other tightly and wondering how the hell the years had gone by so quickly.
Now they had school and after school activities, Gina had her restaurant job and the Dorothy Evans foundation, our pack was still the largest pack in the country, and managing all of those obligations while still remaining a close-knit family was a challenge that my mate thrived on. Every week, she’d hold a family meeting, assigning chores and making meal plans, coordinating the different activities with family time and social obligations. We would also often hike together, and the pups and I would volunteer at the Foundation at least once a month. We’d also visit Wales annually for our summer vacation.
Regina loved growing fruit and vegetables in our backyard, and I had really gotten into carpentry after I’d built our bed. When Evan was born, I built a crib for him, and a rocking chair for the nursery. When both pups were weaned, I built another chair for myself, and now they were both on the porch, where Gina and I would retire every night after dinner to sit, talk, share about our day, and simply reconnect, despite the waves of daily life trying to sweep us to opposite shores sometimes.
Apart from not acknowledging or celebrating New Year’s Eve, Gina rarely ever thought or talked about the tragic events of her past. When we'd go visit Dom and Penny, she’d still go see Vera at least twice, but that was more because she missed her than anything else. Vera had helped her greatly when Gina was in the process of reconciling with her parents after they’d written to her and truly demonstrated their commitment to rebuilding the relationship between them. It was better now, and they were present in the pups’ lives, but it would never be what it once could have been. Regina was okay with it, though.
My mom was a very involved and devoted grandparent, and she also took over some official Luna duties that Gina disliked so that she could focus more on the Foundation. Mom also helped John a lot when he first took over as King, which was wholeheartedly supported by all the Alphas at the summit where I proposed it. I looked at him again - he looked so much like Dad now and it made my heart hurt. He would have been so proud of him. Both John and Elizabeth were made for the Crown, and they were efficient, just, and beloved rulers.
“What is it, my love?“ my mate asked as she hugged my waist from behind and pressed her cheek against my back. “I felt your sadness.”
“I was just thinking how much John looks like Dad. And then, of course, it went into wishing Dad could see him as King, to wishing he could have met our pups...”
“Oh, David,” she slid under my arm to be next to me, and now I was holding her waist, too. “I know. He would have been the best grandfather.”
I would never get over how she looked at me with those green eyes, with her love, adoration, and affection for me so clearly and unabashedly written in them. I’d thought about them every morning for the last almost 16 years as I picked out what to wear. One thing I’d learned in the course of our mating was that love was more like gardening than architecture, what mattered was the constant upkeep and not the grand gestures.
I leaned over to kiss her temple and whispered: “I can’t wait for everyone to leave so you and I can sit on the porch.”
She grinned and responded: “Me too. Ragù for dinner?”