Chapter 11
Cooper
Five Years Later…
I wake up with a tiny foot in my ribs.
Not Landry’s. Landry’s feet are currently tucked between my calves because she claims I’m “basically a furnace,” and marriage means she gets permanent access to my body heat. I have no problem with that. I have no problem with anything that keeps my mate close.
The foot in my ribs belongs to our daughter.
Our three-year-old, wild-haired, stubborn-as-hell daughter, who somehow climbed into our bed in the middle of the night without waking either of us.
That shouldn’t be possible. I’m a wolf shifter.
I can hear a squirrel sneeze half a mile away, but Mia has inherited her mother’s ability to make me useless.
She’s sprawled sideways between us, one arm thrown over Landry’s stomach, one leg digging into me, her dark curls all over my pillow. She looks peaceful. Sweet. Completely innocent.
She is not.
Last night, she tried to convince me that cookies count as dinner because they have eggs in them. I almost agreed. Landry did not.
My wolf huffs inside me, warm and content. Our pup.
I smile, carefully moving Mia’s foot off my ribs. She immediately kicks me again. Of course she does.
“Stop laughing,” Landry mumbles without opening her eyes.
“I didn’t make a sound.”
“I can feel you laughing.”
I grin and lean over Mia to kiss my mate’s forehead. “Morning, mate.”
Her lips curve. “Morning, husband.”
Five years, and that still hits me hard. Husband. I’m her husband, her mate, her family.
Landry Wilder is my wife. My mate. The mother of my children. The woman wearing my mark on the soft skin between her neck and shoulder.
I thought I knew what happiness felt like before, but I didn’t.
Not really. Not until Landry chose me with her whole heart.
Not until she stood with me under the trees behind our house, wearing a white dress and a smile that nearly brought me to my knees, and promised to love me for the rest of our lives.
Not until I held Mia for the first time and heard Landry whisper, “She has your eyes.” Not until our son, Noah, came into the world two years later with Landry’s soft blonde hair and my wolf already obsessed with protecting him.
I glance toward the bassinet beside the bed. Noah isn’t in it. My body goes still. Landry’s eyes open immediately. “What?”
“Noah.”
She follows my gaze, then smiles. “Your son woke up early. I fed him and put him back in his crib because someone was growling at the baby monitor.”
I blink. “I was asleep.”
“You were growling in your sleep.”
“My wolf is vigilant.”
“Your wolf is dramatic,” she corrects.
I laugh. “My wolf heard our pup.”
“Our pup was sound asleep.”
“He might have needed us.”
Landry’s smile turns soft, and my chest tightens the way it always does when she looks at me like that. Like she loves me, like she still can’t quite believe how much.
She reaches over Mia and brushes her fingers through my hair. “You’re a good dad.”
My throat tightens. Even after all these years, she can still wreck me with a few words.
“I try.”
“You do more than try.”
Mia snuffles in her sleep and rolls toward Landry, burying her face against her mother’s side. Landry winces slightly and shifts. My hand moves instantly to her waist.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
I narrow my eyes.
She laughs quietly. “Cooper.”
“You made a face.”
“Our daughter has elbows like tiny weapons. I’m allowed to make a face.”
I reach over and pull Mia away from Landry so she can get comfortable. Landry giggles, and I grin.
It still amazes me sometimes how different our house sounds now. When I first brought Landry here, the place was quiet. Too quiet. It was just me and my restless wolf and too many empty rooms.
Now there are toys in the living room, tiny shoes by the door, drawings on the fridge, baby blankets folded over chairs, and Landry’s books on every surface she can reach.
There are family photos on the walls. Wedding pictures.
Mia covered in birthday cake. Noah asleep on my chest. Taylor and Reyes with their kids.
Pack cookouts. Holidays. A life I used to dream about and somehow get to live every day.
Mia suddenly lifts her head, blinking sleepy green eyes at me.
“Daddy,” she whispers.
“Morning, pup.”
She crawls over Landry, kisses her cheek, then comes back to me and throws herself onto my chest with all the grace of a small falling tree. I catch her easily and tuck her close.
“Pancakes,” she says.
Not good morning, not I love you.
Pancakes.
Landry snorts.
I press a kiss to Mia’s messy curls. “All right. Come on, little one.”
Mia pats my cheek. “Chocolate pancakes.”
“Banana pancakes,” Landry says.
Mia gasps as if her mother has betrayed her deeply. I look between them, weighing my options. My mate arches an eyebrow. My daughter sticks out her bottom lip.
I am a strong man. A trained fighter. A wolf shifter. A protector of the pack.
I am also completely outmatched.
“Banana pancakes with chocolate chips,” I decide.
Mia cheers.
Landry rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Softie.”
“For my girls? Always.”
“And Noah,” Mia adds.
“For Noah too, but he doesn’t have teeth yet, so his pancake opinions are limited.”
From down the hall, the baby monitor crackles. Noah makes one tiny sound, and I’m out of bed before the second one.
Landry laughs behind me. “There he goes.”
I don’t bother defending myself. My son needs me.
When I step into the nursery, Noah is awake in his crib, kicking his little legs and blinking up at the mobile above him. He stops fussing the second he sees me, his round face breaking into a gummy smile.
My heart turns useless.
“Hey, buddy,” I murmur, lifting him carefully. “Did you miss me?”
He grabs a fistful of my shirt and drools on me.
“I missed you too.”
My wolf settles into a pleased rumble, the same way he does every time I hold one of our children. He’s protective of Landry first. Always. But our pups are part of her, part of me, part of us. He watches them with the same fierce devotion.
I carry Noah back to our room, and Landry’s face softens when she sees us.
I take a moment to appreciate how open and relaxed Landry always is now. She’s been like that ever since we killed or ran off all the cult members.
I think about that part of the land now. There was a time when the northern border felt like a wound. When the cult’s presence sat over all of us like a storm cloud.
Now that land is empty.
The pack cleared it out after the fight. The remaining women were helped. The people responsible were gone.
After that, Night Grove Falls healed.
So did Landry. Not all at once. Not easily. There were nightmares. Days when the sound of a van made her go pale. Days when she needed every light on in the house. Days when she cried in my arms because being safe didn’t erase having been afraid.
But she healed. She built a life here. She found work at the bookstore and eventually started managing it. She made friends. Married me. Let me love her. Loved me back. She became the heart of this family.
My heart.
Landry tilts her head up, catching me staring. “What?” she asks softly.
“Nothing.”
She gives me the look.
I smile. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
“How lucky I am.”
Her expression softens. “Cooper.”
“It’s true.”
“I’m lucky too.”
My wolf rumbles, pleased.
Mia leans against my chest. “I’m lucky too?”
I kiss the top of her head. “The luckiest pup in the world.”
She nods seriously, accepting that.
Landry laughs, and Noah stirs in her lap, making a sleepy little sound. I reach over and brush my fingers over his soft hair. He settles instantly.
Landry watches me with those green eyes I fell into the first night I met her. Only now, there’s no fear in them. There’s just love and trust.
Just the way I like them.
She leans up and kisses me softly. “I love you.”
My wolf sighs. I smile against her mouth. “I love you too, mate.”
“Forever?”
“Longer.”
I pull back, getting lost in her eyes for a minute.
“Pancakes!” Mia orders.
I grin. “Coming right up.”
I scoop my daughter into my arms and head down to the kitchen.