Leave it to Riley and Yael to make executive decisions without asking anyone. Rocky for the boy, Susie for the girl — as if naming the Alpha’s children was their personal responsibility. No consultation, no hesitation, just chaos wrapped in confidence.
Not that Lewis noticed. He hadn’t even looked at them yet, and sohow that hurt more than anything else about this terrible, sacred night.
"Let see them," he rasped. His voice was barely there, scraped raw from hours of grief held too tightly.
Riley’s eyes flashed. "See them? You were the one who told us to take them away — said looking at them made you sick. Do you even rember they’re yours? Elena gave everything to bring them into this world, and you can’t even glance at them." Her voice broke on the last words, the pack bond between us making her pain feel like my own. "If you don’t want them, fine. I’ll raise them myself."
Lewis’s jaw tightened. "When did I say I didn’t want them?"
The words landed wrong. Little Rocky, tucked against Riley’s chest, burst into tears as if he’d understood every syllable.
Riley softened instantly, pressing her cheek to his. "No, no, sweetheart. Daddy wants you. Of course he does." Then she turned and practically shoved the baby into Lewis’s arms. "Hold your son. And be careful."
Lewis hesitated — just a breath — then gathered the tiny boy against his chest. The sight of them together stopped my heart. Rocky was Lewis in miniature, every feature a precise reflection. During the ultrasound we’d only ever seen shadows and outlines. But here, now, he was real. His skin was smooth and clear, his eyes already open and searching in a way that seed impossible for soone so new to the world.
He found Lewis’s face. And just like that, he stopped crying.
That quiet, instinctive recognition — the pull of blood and scent between father and son — needed no explanation. Lewis lowered his head slowly, his voice dropping to sothing reverent and broken. "Elena, do you see him? This is our son."
Riley and Yael went completely still. Then they both turned sharply toward where I was standing.
"Elena’s here?"
Lewis didn’t acknowledge their shock. His whole world had narrowed to the baby in his arms. "This is your mother," he murmured. "The one who gave her life to bring you here."
Rocky’s gaze shifted — drifted — and landed on . I moved closer, reaching out to brush his soft cheek. "Do you rember my voice, baby? I used to talk to you every single day."
I hadn’t expected anything. But then Rocky smiled at .
A real, full smile.
"Carl!" I spun toward Lewis, breathless. "He can see !"
Lewis reached up and ran his hand gently over my hair. "Of course he can," he said softly. "You’re his mother."
Sothing enormous cracked open in my chest. I crossed to Yael imdiately. "Let see Susie."
Yael, who couldn’t hear , only registered Lewis staring at him with that intense, unblinking focus. To be fair, Lewis looked frightening — his white shirt still stained, his eyes bloodshot from fever, the surgical mask doing nothing to soften the raw dominance rolling off him. Yael visibly shrank.
"If you’ve got sothing to say, just say it. You’re scaring ."
"She wants to see the baby," Lewis said flatly.
Yael blinked. "Elena’s here?" He waved his hand through the air between them. Lewis’s voice sharpened imdiately. "Don’t touch her."
"I’m touching air, Lewis."
"Put the baby on the bed."
Yael obeyed without another word. Lewis set Rocky down beside his sister, and I stood over them both, just looking. They were perfect. A blend of everything Lewis and I had ever been to each other, made small and breathing and real.
"Look at them, Carl," I whispered. "They look just like us."
He humd, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes the way it should have.
I didn’t know how long I had. So I said what mattered. "We can’t actually call them Rocky and Susie forever. Na them properly."
He didn’t hesitate. "Everett and Everly."
The longing in those two words was unmistakable — a whole future folded into two nas, the kind that matched, that stayed close, that never quite separated. I’d spent weeks agonizing over nas, flipping through every list I could find. None of them had felt right. These did.
"Everly was born first," I reminded him. "So she keeps her na. And our son — he’ll be Everett."
Lewis’s expression softened. "Whatever you decide."
I tapped Everett’s little nose. "You’re the big brother now. You protect your sister, okay?" He giggled, and it shattered in the best possible way. "You’re nothing like your father," I teased. "So smiley."
Everly, clearly offended at being left out, let out a sharp, indignant wail. I turned to her, stroking her cheek gently. "Everly. Mommy’s here." She stopped imdiately and smiled up at , and my heart cracked wide open all over again.
They’d been born early, but they were strong. Neither of them had needed the incubator. anwhile, their father looked like he might collapse where he stood.
I stayed with them as long as I could. Lewis never stopped watching , his expression holding that impossible mixture — happiness and grief, love and loss all tangled together until they were indistinguishable.
Riley wiped her eyes quietly. "The universe is cruel, Elena. Why is it always you?"
"I can still see my babies," I said. "That’s already more than I hoped for."
She pressed a hand over her mouth. "I’m sorry. If I hadn’t asked you to pick up that day—"
"Carl." I turned to him before the guilt could spiral. "What happened to Sergio?"
"Injured. Taken away." His tone was flat, controlled.
Knowing who had him, I doubted he’d be allowed to die easily. I looked at Lewis more carefully — at the weight under his eyes, the tension he was holding in every line of his body. "These past days. Have they been unbearable?"
He reached out and brushed his hand across my cheek. "As long as I can see you, nothing is unbearable. Even like this — I hope you stay as long as you can."
I stepped into him and held on. "Then promise sothing. Take care of yourself. No more reckless things just to find . I’m not leaving you." I pulled back just enough to look at him. "Whatever form I take, I’ll be here. Always."
"Let’s wait until tomorrow," he said quietly. "Just let look at you a little longer."
How could I ever say no to that?
"Sure," I whispered.
He ruffled my hair the way he always had — gentle, possessive, his. "Good girl. My Elena."
The door opened.
Harlan stepped in and stopped cold. From where he stood, Lewis was stroking empty air, murmuring to no one, his expression tender and completely unguarded in a way that made it sohow worse.
Harlan’s face went pale.
"He’s finally lost his mind."
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