Epilogue #2
Margaret surprises me by offering to help with whatever we need. "You'll want proper furniture. Cribs, changing tables. Let us provide those. Please."
"We can manage—" Calder starts.
"I know you can," Margaret interrupts. "But let us do this. Let us be part of it. Grandparents are supposed to spoil their grandchildren."
Catherine immediately chimes in. "I'm making blankets. Hand-knitted. One for each baby. You can't stop me."
"I'm getting them books," Thomas adds. "A whole library for when they're older."
Rebecca's already planning ahead. "I'll arrange my leave so I can come and help after they're born. If you want me. No pressure."
"We want you," I assure her. "All of you."
When we finally end the call, the room is full of happy chaos. Pen and Maya bombard us with questions about names. Mira makes tea because that's what she does when emotions run high.
Calder's hand finds mine, fingers lacing together.
Tyler's pressed against my other side, basically vibrating with joy. "We're having babies. Actual babies. Plural."
Julian watches us with that analytical precision that can't quite hide the emotion underneath. "The statistical probability of twins with a multi-alpha pack is actually elevated compared to—"
"Julian," Tyler says fondly. "Stop being adorable."
"I'm not being adorable. I'm being accurate."
"You're being both."
Later, after Pen and Maya have left with promises to visit again soon, after Mira's returned to her cottage, the four of us sit on the porch watching the sunset paint the valley in shades of amber and rose.
The goats are secured in their pen. The greenhouse is locked up for the night. The farmhouse glows warm behind us.
"I'm going to decline the fellowship," Julian says quietly.
We all turn to look at him.
"Julian—" I start.
"Let me finish." He's choosing words carefully. "Harvard is an honor. It's prestigious, it would advance my career significantly. But this…" He gestures to the farmhouse, the valley, us. "This is my life's work. Not pack dynamics in abstract. Pack dynamics in practice. With you. All of you."
"What about the research?" Calder asks.
"I can research from here. Publish from here. I've already been in contact with several journals interested in my India documentation. And there are other fellowships, other opportunities that don't require leaving for two years."
"But Harvard—" Tyler tries.
"Is a building," Julian interrupts. "You're home. The babies are home. This valley, this life we've built, this is what matters."
"You're sure?" I already know the answer.
"I've never been more sure of anything." He takes my hand. "Besides, someone needs to be here to document the twins' development. That's valuable research right there."
Calder laughs. "You're going to turn our children into a longitudinal study."
"Obviously. With proper ethical oversight and parental consent, of course."
"Of course," Tyler agrees, grinning.
We sit in comfortable silence, watching the valley darken, lights beginning to glow in distant houses.
"We're going to be parents," I say.
"We are," Calder confirms.
"Terrifying," Tyler adds.
"Statistically challenging," Julian contributes.
"But perfect," I finish. “I believe I win the best gift competition.”
TWO DAYS LATER
Nathaniel Kingsley arrives exactly on time.
I watch from the greenhouse as an expensive black SUV pulls up the drive, the kind of vehicle that costs more than most people's yearly salary. Calder emerges from the house to greet him, and I catch the easy familiarity of old friends despite the business suit the driver is wearing.
They've known each other since childhood, both from old money families, both trying to chart their own paths while honoring legacy. But where Calder chose an unconventional pack and a quiet valley life, Nathaniel chose... well. From what I understand, Nathaniel chose not to choose.
The Kingsley family is transitioning from oil to renewable energy, a massive undertaking requiring significant capital and strategic partnerships. The Ashfords have been investing in sustainable energy for years. Hence the meeting.
I'm heading back to my herb sorting when I hear another car.
I step out of the greenhouse as Lila emerges from her beat-up sedan, looking polished despite the long drive. She's wearing a blazer over a simple dress, professional but still distinctly Lila.
"Surprise!" she calls, waving. "I know I said next week, but I had a meeting canceled last-minute and thought, why not visit my pregnant best friend early?"
I cross the yard to hug her. "You're always welcome. You know that."
"Good, because I brought those ridiculous pregnancy cookies Catherine sent me to give you. Apparently she's baking for an army."
We're laughing when I notice Nathaniel Kingsley has stopped mid-conversation with Calder. He's staring at Lila with an expression I recognize; I've seen variations of it on my own alphas' faces.
Desire. Want. Mine.
Oh no.
Lila follows my gaze, sees the alpha watching her, and her expression shifts immediately to polite wariness. "Friend of yours?"
"Calder's," I say carefully. "Nathaniel Kingsley. He's here on business."
"Kingsley." Her voice goes flat. "As in, Kingsley Energy? The Nathaniel Kingsley?"
"You know him?"
"Know of him." Her eyes narrow. "His reputation precedes him. Player alpha, different omega every week, breaks hearts like it's a hobby."
"That might be exaggerating—"
"You’re too nice, El." She crosses her arms. "I work in social media for omega advocacy. I see the posts. The omegas who thought they were special, the gossip columns tracking his conquests. No thank you."
But Nathaniel's already crossing the yard, Calder following with an expression that suggests he's trying very hard not to laugh.
"Nathaniel Kingsley," he introduces himself, extending a hand to Lila. His voice is smooth, cultured, exactly what you'd expect from an oil baron heir. "And you are?"
"Leaving." Lila flashes him a fake smile and stares at his hand.
His eyebrows rise. "You just arrived."
"I just remembered I have... literally anything else to do." She turns to me. "I'll come back next week when you're not hosting players."
"Lila—"
"Players?" Nathaniel's voice carries genuine surprise beneath the amusement. "That's harsh from someone who doesn't know me."
"I know enough." She finally looks at him directly. "Nathaniel Kingsley, 29, eldest of four sons, heir to Kingsley Energy, known for wining and dining omegas and never calling them back. Sound about right?"
Begins him, Calder's trying very hard not to laugh.
Nathaniel, to his credit, doesn't deny it. "My reputation is apparently well-documented."
"It is. And I'm not interested in being documentation entry number 847." She turns back to me. "Seriously, I'll come back another time."
"Actually," Nathaniel says, and something in his voice has changed. It’s deeper. More serious. "I'd very much like you to stay."
"I'm sure you would." Lila's smile is brief. "But I'm not interested in alphas who collect omegas like trophies. Have a nice business meeting."
She heads back toward her car.
"Wait." Nathaniel is clearly used to people obeying him. "Please."
Lila pauses, turns. "Why?"
He blinks at her but stays where he is. Probably the first time in years an omega hasn't immediately responded to his attention.
"Because," he says finally, "I'd like to know your name."
"Sorry, not happening." She opens her car door. "You can want things and not get them, Mr. Kingsley. Good life lesson."
She's in the car and reversing down the drive before he can respond.
Nathaniel stands in the yard, staring after her car with an expression of complete bafflement.
"Well," Calder says mildly. "That's a first for you."
"Who is she?" Nathaniel asks, still watching the dust settle from her departure.
"She’s off limits," I say firmly. "And she's right about your reputation."
"I don't—" He stops, seeming to reconsider. "I have never led anyone on. I'm always clear about my intentions."
"Your intentions being no commitment, no pack, just fun until you're bored?"
He has the grace to crick his neck from side to side and loosen his tie as if uncomfortable. "I haven't found my mate. I'm not going to bond with someone out of obligation or loneliness."
"Noble," I say dryly.
"What if she is my mate?" The words come out quiet but certain.
Calder and I exchange glances.
"I don’t think…" I begin.
"What if she is my mate and I just let her go…?" He shakes his head. "Never mind. Let's discuss the energy partnership, Cal."
But I feel Calder's amusement. He's seen that look before too.
The look of an alpha who just met his omega and knows nothing will ever be the same.
That evening, after Nathaniel has left with signed partnership agreements and a distracted expression, Lila calls.
"I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't mean to be rude to your guest. I just… his reputation, Elowen. I've seen too many omegas get hurt by alphas like him."
"I know," I assure her. "And you weren't rude. You were clear about your boundaries. That's healthy."
"He's probably already forgotten about me anyway. Men like that, they move on fast."
Through the window, I can see Calder on the porch, phone to his ear. Probably talking to Nathaniel about business.
Or maybe about a certain sharp-tongued omega who walked away.
"Maybe," I say. "Or maybe not."
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing. Just be careful, Lila. I think you made more of an impression than you realize."
She laughs. "Right. Because the wealthy player alpha is suddenly going to be interested in the omega who rejected him."
"Stranger things have happened."
"Not to me they haven't." She yawns. "Anyway, I’ll visit again next week. When he's not there. I want to hear all about the India trip properly."
"Deal. Love you."
"Love you too. And Elowen? Thank you. For always being there."
"Always," I promise.
After we hang up, I join Calder on the porch.
"How's Nathaniel?" I ask innocently.