“They’re perfect. You’re perfect. God, Rhea, look what you did.” Damon’s tears fell freely now, dropping onto our children’s heads like blessings.
“We did this. Together.” I could barely speak through my own tears, overwhelmed by the two tiny lives we’d created.
“Alpha twins from an omega mother. They’ll rewrite the medical books.” Dr. Mira’s professional composure had cracked completely. She wiped at her eyes as she supervised the cleanup.
“What should we name them?” Damon traced our daughter’s cheek with one gentle finger.
I’d thought about this during the long months of bed rest. Names that honored the past while looking toward the future. Names that carried weight but also hope.
“Serena and Dominic. For the grandparents who would have loved them.” The rightness of it settled over us like a blanket.
“Serena and Dominic Kildare,” Damon repeated softly. “Perfect.”
Our son, Dominic, had already latched onto me with determined hunger. Serena was more delicate in her approach but no less insistent. Watching them, feeling their tiny hearts beat against my chest, I understood what we’d really been fighting for all along. Not pack politics or ancient prejudices, but this. Family. Future. Hope.
“Thank you,” Damon whispered against my hair. “For not giving up. For fighting through everything. For giving me them.”
“Thank you for finding me,” I countered. “For choosing truth over comfort. For becoming the father they deserve.”
We stayed like that, wrapped around each other and our miracles, as the medical team quietly finished their work. Outside this room, the pack waited for news of their future.Challenges still loomed. Integration wouldn’t be easy. Old prejudices died hard.
But in this moment, none of that mattered. We were complete. Broken and remade stronger. A family forged in truth rather than lies.
The door opened softly. I expected Dr. Mira returning, but instead my father stood in the doorway. Magnus Thornback, restored to his position but somehow looking older than when I’d last seen him. His eyes were wet as he took in the scene.
“My grandchildren,” he breathed, wonder in every syllable.
“Come meet them, Papa.” I shifted carefully, making room for him to see better.
He approached like the babies might disappear if he moved too quickly. When he got close enough to see their faces clearly, a sob escaped him.
“They’re beautiful. Perfect. Your mother...” He stopped, overcome by emotions as he looked at Damon.
“She’d be so proud,” I finished for him. “I wish she could see them.”
“She can, in her way.” He touched Serena’s tiny fist with one finger. “May I?”
I nodded, and he carefully lifted his granddaughter, cradling her like spun glass. The former spokesperson of the pack, reduced to tears by a baby’s yawn.
“The council is here. They’ve voted unanimously on something unprecedented.” He said finally.
43
— • —
Damon
Magnus lingered after delivering his announcement about the council, his eyes moving between the twins with something deeper than grandfatherly pride. The medical staff had given us privacy, understanding this was a family moment that transcended mere politics.
“Damon,” he said quietly, still cradling Serena with infinite care. “There’s something I need to tell you. About your mother.”
My body tensed instinctively. “Lucinda is not…”
“Your real mother. Serena.” He met my eyes, and I saw decades of held secrets there. “I knew her.”
The words hit like physical blows. Rhea’s hand found mine, grounding me as Magnus continued.
“She was extraordinary. Young, yes, but with a healer’s gift that surpassed wolves twice her age. She could ease pain with a touch, see illness before symptoms showed.” His voice grew thick with memory. “I was on the medical board that recruited her to the pack. We were so proud to have found such talent.”
