14. Maia
14
MAIA
“ Y ou can’t be in the room,” I repeat, giving Christopher a stern look. He raises a perfectly sculpted brown eyebrow, and his lips quirk up in amusement. “This is for Phoebe and me, and I don’t want to try and explain who you are to the nurse.”
“That’s fair enough,” Christopher says. “Can I work somewhere upstairs so I’m not in the way?”
“Sure. I’ve got my room, or there’s an office, but not much is set up in it.”
He shrugs. “I’ll sit in your room. I’m not trying to overwhelm you, Maia. We’re here to help.”
I wrap my arms around myself, looking around my living room instead of at him. “It’s hard to accept the help when I feel like the only reason you’re offering it is to get in my pants.”
He snorts, and I can feel heat rushing to my cheeks. Phoebe’s on her play mat with some black and white cards of fruit hanging around her to try and stimulate her little brain.
“Maia, look at me,” he calls, but I refuse to turn and look at him. He heaves a sigh and comes to a stop in front of me. He gently lifts my chin up, and I look into his eyes. I expected him to be annoyed or maybe even still carry traces of his humour .
But there’s not. He’s very serious.
“You’re still healing, Maia, from delivering a very perfect little girl into the world,” Christopher says softly. “My goals are to support you, to protect you both, and to eventually figure out our mating situation. For now, my only goal is to get through each day without overwhelming you or making you hate me.”
I sigh. He’s so serious, so gentle, but so fucking intense. I lean into the sparks, into his warmth, and he squeezes the side of my face. “I feel guilty every time we get close.”
Now he frowns. “What do you mean?”
“Like when I kissed—” His jaw drops, and I slam mine shut, realising he didn’t know about the kisses I’ve shared with Alex.
“You’re kissing my brothers?” he asks, and I don’t know him well enough to understand what he’s feeling. “I see.”
His face goes blank, his lips tightening ever so slightly, as he steps away from me.
“Brother, singular,” I whisper. I might not understand much, but I can see that hurt from a mile away. “Chris?—”
“I’ll be upstairs,” he says with a nod.
I sigh as he disappears, and I ignore the pang in my heart. I fucked up here. I, stupidly, thought they talked about me like that. Every night when I huddle upstairs with Phoebe, they’re often together late into the night, talking and laughing.
Why on earth would I presume that I was the topic even just once?
Phoebe starts to whine, so I head over to her and start to softly sing. Her eyes try to follow the sound, and it’s very sweet. She’s still so tiny . Even at only a week old, I can’t imagine my life without her in it.
She’s so unburdened by all the stressors and is just content to grow and develop, and it’s my job to ensure that it stays this way.
I don’t know what happened with the napkin from yesterday, but I did call the doctor’s office this morning just to double check my appointment was still scheduled with another doctor. I really, really don’t like Dr Thomas, and the way he said he’d see me in a few weeks has my skin crawling.
Seb didn’t mention the napkin to me, which isn’t surprising, but none of the others did, either. I don’t know how to bring it up without admitting I read the note, and honestly, I’m so scared to even find out the truth.
Once again, I find myself angry with Ryan for dying. Angry he left Phoebe and I behind, angry he lied to us, and even more angry that he’s no longer here.
Phoebe’s life is at risk, and I don’t feel like I’m equipped to help her.
But I’m all she has.
I hear Christopher’s footsteps upstairs and sigh. “Maybe… maybe she has more than me, too.”
“ W here is she? She was meant to be here thirty minutes ago,” Christopher demands, coming down the stairs with a few heavy thumps. He left in a mood earlier after finding out about the kissing, and it’s clear that he’s sat stewing on it because he’s in an even bigger bad mood upon his return.
“I can tell the time,” I mutter with a deep sigh. Phoebe is nursing and has been pretty much since he left me to go upstairs, and I’m desperate for a wee. She’s not going to be happy to unlatch, and it’s not like I really want to leave her with the mega prick whilst I relieve myself.
So, misery it is.
“But I have no idea. Something may have gone wrong at her last visit, or maybe she crashed, or?—”
“You’re morbid,” Christopher says, somehow grinning nastily at me. “Have you tried to call her? ”
“Not yet. I’ll give her another half an hour before chasing her up.” I rake my eyes over the man in front of me and appreciate the fact that he’s an identical quadruplet right now.
Christopher is very attractive, and the suit he’s wearing only highlights his broad body and his firm muscular components. But the sneer on his face is the biggest turn-off there is.
However, we’ll be going back to his place soon, where not one but three men await with identical bodies, and some of them have some very sweet smiles.
Why waste my time on the asshole when there are three— mostly —lovely men instead?
“What’s that look for?” Christopher demands, resting his hands on the back of the sofa. He cocks a brow, but his smile is replaced by a scowl. “She’s here. I’m heading upstairs. Try not to need me.”
“Asshole,” I hiss as the doorbell rings. I sigh, holding onto Phoebe to try and keep her latched as I head to the front door to let Polly, our community nurse, in.
“I am so sorry,” Polly says the moment my door opens. She’s wearing her usual navy work uniform, and her dark hair is thrown up in a messy bun. She’s at least ten years older than me, and whilst chaotic, she’s very nice and friendly.
I smile and lead her through to the living room. She’s carrying two large bags, one with the baby scales inside, and Phoebe starts to whine because she’s unlatched herself.
“Sh,” I soothe, bouncing on my feet as I rock her back and forth. Polly gets herself situated, completely at ease spreading all of her things around.
“So, how has she been?” Polly asks. She’s got a very strong Scottish accent, despite having lived in the north-east of England for the last fifteen years. “Is she still breastfeeding completely?”
“Good. She is. We’re doing pretty well with nursing for now. She’s feeding well and is mostly a happy girl,” I reassure her as Phoebe latches herself back on. Her hungry guzzles make me think it’s cluster feeding time, and I move to get myself comfortable on the sofa.
Polly beams. “Good. She’ll start having more and more wake periods now, and will probably be more lively within herself. I’ve got a list of baby classes nearby, a lot of them are free, if you want to socialise, but don’t feel pressured.”
“Um, yes, please,” I say, and she nods, rifling through her giant binder. She’s tossing the pages back and forth so rapidly I doubt she’s even reading them. I stay quiet, adjusting Phoebe as I watch, and finally, she finds them.
“Here you go,” she says, placing a leaflet out on the table. “There’s a list of when and where, and it’ll give you some things to do to break up the day. Often the best parenting tips come from other parents.”
She continues babbling away as she goes through her checklist, and my anxiety is simmering as it does. She wants me to strip Phoebe off so she can weigh her, but Phoebe just wants to feed. If I have to upset her, she might shift, and then everything will go to shit.
“Okay, let’s get baby weighed,” Polly says, smiling at me. “You keep it nice and warm here, so hopefully, it won’t upset her too much.”
I grimace, or smile, or make some kind of facial movement as I gently unlatch Phoebe from myself. She starts to cry, but all I can hear is the pounding of my heart as it echoes through my mind. I’m terrified and try to comfort the tiny girl, but she won’t stop crying.
My hands are trembling as I unsnap her sleep suit, button by button.
“Are you cold?” Polly asks as Phoebe screams even louder.
But then, there’s a loud howl that silences her and my heart. Phoebe’s grey eyes are wide, and her soft pink lips are in a smile. I know without a doubt that Christopher intervened for me there, and I am so, so grateful.
“Holy shit,” Polly gasps, jumping to her feet. She strides over to my window, peering through it, as I continue getting Phoebe undressed. “I can’t see anything, but wow, that was loud.”
“I wonder what it was,” I say as I cradle my naked newborn to me. “Want me to pop her on the scales?”
“Oh, not yet,” Polly says, grabbing a muslin off the side. “Let me balance them.” We quickly get Phoebe weighed, and then I start dressing my daughter back in her clothes. Polly clears things up and then marks it down on Phoebe’s chart.
“She’s gaining weight,” Polly says with a grin. “And you must be doing a lot of tummy time with her because I’ve never seen a baby with such good neck control at this age.”
“You haven’t?” My voice rises in pitch as my veins seem to turn to ice.
“No, but that’s a good thing, Maia!” She smiles at me. “You’re a terrific mum, and you’re doing your best for your baby. That’s all anyone can ever ask.” She packs her things up, and gives me a warm smile. “You’ll hear from your health visitor next week and see them from now on. Health-wise, we’re happy to discharge you both, but you know where to find us if you need support.”
“I do,” I say warmly. “Thank you so much.”
She waves and lets herself out, and I finally heave a huge sigh. “You nearly blew our cover, little baby,” I say, dropping a gentle kiss to Phoebe’s forehead. Her dark hair is getting longer each day, even in minuscule amounts, and I wonder if she’ll have my curls forever.
“She did,” Christopher says, coming down the stairs. “And now you’ll understand why we are needed , yes?”
“I don’t know what has upset you the way it has,” I say, giving him a piercing look. “But do not talk to me like that. I’m doing my best. Maybe you should try it.”
He sneers at me. “Trust me, princess , I don’t settle for trying . If I aim to do something, I will succeed.” He makes a flashy show of checking his watch and then nods. “It’s time to go. Get Phoebe in her car seat, and I’ll drop you off at home with Alex.”
“She’s feeding,” I say, shaking my head. “We’re not leaving until she’s done.”
He nods. “Understood. Give me a shout once she’s ready, and then we can leave.” He turns around and goes back up the stairs, and I hate that his bad mood is affecting me this deeply.
Is this jealousy or something deeper?
“ Y our daddy left us in a little bit of a pickle, Phoebe,” I whisper, trailing my finger down her cheeks. She’s flat out, her chest rising and falling with each breath, her little suckles making me smile. “But I promise I won’t leave you. Not when I’m all you’ve got.”
We’re back at the guy’s place, and I’m upstairs with Phoebe. It’s late, nearly eleven, but after a bath, a two-hour feeding session where she drained me dry, and two clothing changes, she’s finally asleep.
And I am exhausted.
“You’ve got more than just Phoebe,” a voice murmurs, and I turn to see Christopher in the doorway. He’s not changed clothes from when we were out earlier, which is the only indication of who it is. “We’re not going to leave you to struggle, Maia.”
“And how long will it be before having a baby around will cramp your style?” I demand as tears prick at my eyes.
“Whoa, that’s some very strong hostility there.” He advances towards me, and there’s a tiny smile on his face when he looks at my daughter. “Talk to me about your concerns, princess , and I’ll see what I can do to alleviate them.”
“Oh, fuck off with that,” I snap, moving away from Phoebe’s crib. I keep my voice low, not wanting to upset her in the slightest. “I’m not a princess because I’m worried about my life, Christopher.”
“Topher.”
“ Chris topher. I’ve got an eight-day-old little girl who is a werewolf , and I’m absolutely terrified that I’m not going to be good enough to be her mum.” I wrap my arms around myself. “I’m human, and she’s extraordinary.”
“She’s perfect.”
I nod, smiling at my daughter, before giving him a dirty look. “You and your brothers aren’t going to be happy with us here for long, no matter what you keep claiming. Seb’s had to give up his bed, you’re all making concessions to your lifestyle, and she’s going to have me up multiple times a night, which you’ll all hear since you’re werewolves.”
“We’re going to want you here forever , princess,” Christopher says, taking another step closer. “This is only a temporary arrangement for you . I don’t lie when I say you’re our mate—it’s the only truth that matters.”
I scoff. “Sure. Until someone prettier comes along with less baggage?—”
“Do not ever refer to her as baggage again,” he snarls, and his eyes flash gold, but he doesn’t let Orion take over.
This is between me and Christopher.
“I meant the grieving of my dead ex-fiancé. Phoebe is not and will not ever be a burden,” I whisper, unable to deny the magnetism he’s emitting. He’s so defensive over my daughter, and it’s one of the most— only… oh, who the fuck am I kidding, most— attractive traits he has. The gold in his eyes are so bright, and I can barely bring myself to blink.
“Glad we can agree on something,” he says. “You’re in this room where you belong, and nobody gave up a bed for you—although we would have, if it was needed. Seb just moved from one room to another. This is just the only room attached to another, so we figured you would prefer it for when Phoebe is older and in her own room.”
I nod slowly, but I’m not sure how I feel about this. He’s planning for a future, and I’m stuck living in the past.
“The decorating will begin in the next few days so you’re happy here—we just need to arrange for some of us, you, and Phoebe to stay somewhere else so she doesn’t need to be around the paint fumes.”
My eyes fill with tears at how sweet he’s being, at how much he’s taking my daughter into consideration.
“I don’t trust this mate bond of yours. That’s just not how it’s done for humans.”
He pauses. “Is there anything I can do to prove it to you?”
“No.”
He sighs. “Then it looks like we’re doing this the old-fashioned way. I’ll tell you something about my brothers and I—we’re relentless when it comes to claiming what is ours, and you, princess? You’re ours in every sense of the word.” He advances towards me, not hovering above me, but he doesn’t intimidate me. “You’re made for me—for us. Every inch of you was designed with my brothers in mind. Your gorgeous eyes, your beautiful smile, your luscious tits?—”
“These were made to feed my child ,” I hiss.
“You make more than enough milk to share.” My eyes widen, and he smirks. “Trust me, Maia, you are everything to us, and if it takes the rest of our lives for us to show you that, then so be it. But I can promise you that not a single day will go by where we’ll allow you to doubt our devotion to you.”
“Devotion?”
“Devotion. Worshipping. Loving.” His words are a promise, and they send shivers down my spine.
“I see,” I whisper, taking an unconscious step back. Things are too intense for just meeting these men. “Um, I need to get to sleep. ”
I wanted to bring up the way he acted earlier, but I can’t. I can’t handle any other big declaration of emotion from him.
Christopher has been the only one of his brother’s that I’ve not known where he stood, and now he’s made it very clear.
The Wolfe brothers have told me what they want.
But me? I’m not sure I can give it.
“I’ll leave you to it,” he murmurs, bending down to softly kiss my forehead. My eyes flutter closed as his lips rest there for three entire heartbeats before he pulls away. “May I…?”
I frown, not sure what he wants, but I nod anyway. Tears prick at my eyes as he bends down over Phoebe’s crib and brushes the softest kiss against her head before turning and leaving the room.
I don’t know why that meant so much to me, but it did. It was everything.