Seraphina’s POV
The soft morning light filtered through the hospital window as I adjusted our daughter in my arms, still marveling at how perfect she was. Her tiny fingers were curled into little fists, and her breathing was so peaceful it made my chest ache with love.
"Mama!" Adrian’s excited voice preceded him through the door as he burst into the room, practically vibrating with energy. "Is she awake? Can I see her again?"
"Shh, sweetheart," I whispered, smiling at his enthusiasm. "She’s sleeping, but you can co look."
Adrian climbed onto the chair beside my bed with the careful precision of a child who’d been repeatedly reminded to be gentle. His silver-blue eyes—so much like Damien’s—went wide with wonder as he peered at his baby sister.
"She’s so tiny," he breathed, reaching out one finger to gently touch her hand. "Look! She’s holding onto !"
My heart lted as our daughter’s fingers instinctively wrapped around Adrian’s finger. The sight of my two children together, this perfect mont of sibling connection, made tears spring to my eyes.
"She knows you’re her big brother," I told him softly.
"What’s her na gonna be?" Adrian asked, his voice hushed with reverence. "Daddy said you haven’t picked one yet."
"We’re still deciding," I admitted. "Do you have any ideas?"
"Oh." Adrian looked confused but suggested imdiately. "How about... Lily? Or Rose? I like flower nas."
"Lily," I repeated, looking down at our daughter’s peaceful face. "I like that. What do you think, little one? Do you like the na Lily?"
As if responding to my voice, the baby made a soft cooing sound that made both Adrian and smile.
"She likes it!" Adrian declared triumphantly. "Hi, Lily. I’m your big brother Adrian."
The door opened, and Damien entered carrying a cup of coffee and what looked like discharge papers. He looked better than he had in months—there was actually color in his face, and the tension around his eyes had eased.
"How are my girls this morning?" he asked, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead before settling into the chair on the other side of the bed.
"Adrian thinks we should na her Lily," I told him.
"Lily," Damien repeated thoughtfully, reaching out to stroke our daughter’s dark hair. "Lily Nightshadow. I like it."
"It’s decided then," I said, smiling despite the ache in my chest. "Welco to the world, Lily."
For a few minutes, we existed in that perfect bubble of new family bliss. Adrian chattered about all the things he wanted to show Lily when she got bigger. Damien talked about setting up the nursery. I just held our daughter and tried to morize every detail of her perfect little face.
But then Adrian said sothing that shattered the illusion completely.
"Mama," he said, his small face scrunched up in confusion. "You sll different."
My blood turned to ice. "What do you an, sweetheart?"
"Before, you slled like... like warm cookies and flowers and sothing else that made feel safe." His little brow furrowed as he tried to find the words. "But now you just sll like... like nothing special. And it feels empty when I’m near you."
All I could focus on was the innocent confusion on my son’s face as he tried to understand why his mother felt wrong to him.
"I’m still your mama, Adrian," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I’m still the sa person."
"I know," he said quickly, scrambling closer to give a careful hug. "I love you the sa. It’s just... different."
Different. That one word sumd up everything I’d lost, everything I’d never get back. Even my own son could sense that sothing fundantal was missing from .
Damien cleared his throat. "Adrian, why don’t you go find Uncle Lucas? Tell him we’ll be ready to go ho soon."
"Okay!" Adrian bounced off the chair, apparently unaware of the emotional devastation he’d just caused. "I’ll tell him about Lily’s na too!"
Once he was gone, the silence in the room beca suffocating.
"Sera—" Damien started.
"Don’t," I said quietly, not looking at him. "Just... don’t."
I couldn’t handle sympathy right now. Couldn’t handle being reminded again of everything I’d lost. If a five-year-old could sense it, what did that an for everyone else?
Three days later, I was finally settling into life outside the hospital walls. Lily was thriving, eating well and sleeping in manageable stretches. Adrian was over the moon about being a big brother, constantly wanting to help with everything from diaper changes to bath ti.
"Co on," Ophelia said, practically dragging toward the front door. "You need to get out of this house. Fresh air, sunshine, normal human interaction."
"I’m fine staying in," I protested, adjusting Lily in her carrier. "She’s still so little, and—"
"And you’re going stir-crazy," Ophelia interrupted firmly. "We’re just going to the baby store in town. Nothing strenuous. Plus, Lily needs more clothes, and you know Damien has no idea what to buy."
She was right, of course. Damien had tried his best, but his idea of baby clothes ran toward expensive designer outfits that were completely impractical. We needed simple, comfortable things that could handle the reality of infant life.
The drive into town was pleasant enough. Ophelia chattered about pack gossip. The baby store was busy, filled with the sounds of crying infants and frazzled parents trying to navigate the overwhelming array of choices. I found myself relaxing slightly as we browsed through the racks of tiny clothes.
"These are adorable," Ophelia said, holding up a set of pink onesies covered in little moons and stars. "Very appropriate for an alpha’s daughter."
I picked out several practical items—soft cotton sleepers, burp cloths, tiny socks that seed impossibly small. Normal mom things. For a few minutes, I could almost pretend I was just like any other new mother shopping for her baby.
The young woman behind the register didn’t even bother looking up from her phone when we approached. She was maybe nineteen, with badly bleached hair and cheap makeup caked on thick. When she finally glanced at , her face twisted into an expression of pure disgust.
"What do you want?" she snapped, like we were personally ruining her day just by existing.
"We’d like to check out, please," I said politely, setting our items on the counter.
The girl—her na tag read "Brittany"—rolled her eyes dramatically and started scanning our items with the speed of molasses. She picked up each piece of clothing like it was contaminated, holding them at arm’s length.
"Seriously?" She held up one of the outfits and snorted. "You think you can afford this?"
"Excuse ?" Ophelia’s voice went dangerously low.
Brittany smirked. "I’m just saying, honey, this isn’t exactly the bargain bin. Maybe try the thrift store down the street?"
Heat flooded my cheeks. "I can pay for it."
"Right." She laughed, a harsh sound that made other custors turn to stare. "Let guess—you’re one of those human groupies who thinks sleeping with a wolf makes you special?"
My mouth fell open. "I’m sorry, what did you just say?"
"Oh, co on." Brittany leaned across the counter, her voice loud enough for half the store to hear. "We all know what you are. So desperate human slut who spread her legs for a wolf and thinks that makes her pack."
"That’s enough!" Ophelia snarled, stepping forward.
But Brittany was just getting started. "Look at you. No scent, no power, nothing. You’re just so pathetic human who got knocked up and now you’re pretending you belong here."
She gestured at Lily with obvious revulsion. "And that thing you’re carrying? God, I feel sorry for it. Do you have any idea how ssed up half-breeds turn out? ntal problems, physical deformities, identity issues."
My hands started shaking. "Don’t talk about my daughter like that."
"Your daughter?" Brittany laughed cruelly. "Honey, that’s not a wolf pup in there. That’s a mistake. A dirty little mixed-blood freak who’s never going to fit in anywhere."
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