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Seraphina’s POV

The walk ho felt surreal.

After everything—the battle, the blood, the death—my legs carried toward sothing normal. Sothing safe. Sothing that had been waiting for all along.

Ho.

Damien’s hand was warm in mine. Solid. Real. A constant reminder that he was alive. That we’d made it through.

Adrian walked on my other side. His small hand gripping mine tight. Like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go.

Lily rode on Damien’s shoulders. Chattering away about sothing that happened at school. About her friend Maya. About a drawing she’d made.

Normal kid stuff. Beautiful, ordinary kid stuff.

"Mama?" Adrian’s voice pulled back. "Are you okay?"

I looked down at him. At those silver-blue eyes—Damien’s eyes—watching with concern that felt too grown-up for a five-year-old.

"I’m fine, baby." I squeezed his hand. "Just tired."

"You sll different." His nose wrinkled. "Like... like forest. And blood."

Sharp kid. Too sharp sotis.

"I need a shower." I tried to keep my voice light. "That’s all."

He nodded. But his grip didn’t loosen.

The pack house ca into view. Our ho. The place we’d fought so hard to protect.

The place that had felt so empty these past months. So cold without Damien in it.

But now? Now it felt like ho again.

"Can we have hot chocolate?" Lily asked from Damien’s shoulders. "Please? With marshmallows?"

"It’s almost bedti," I started to say.

"Hot chocolate sounds perfect." Damien cut off. His eyes eting mine. Warm. Understanding. "One cup won’t hurt."

I wanted to argue. Wanted to stick to the routine. The structure. All the things that kept life manageable.

But tonight? Tonight I just wanted my family together. Safe. Happy.

"Fine." I smiled. "But only if you two get ready for bed first. Pajamas. Teeth brushed. Deal?"

"Deal!" They both shouted.

---

The house was warm. Quiet. Just the four of us.

Ophelia had offered to stay. To help. But I’d sent her ho. Needed this ti. This space. Just us.

I made hot chocolate while Damien supervised teeth-brushing. His voice carrying from upstairs. Patient. Gentle. Making up silly songs about toothpaste that had the kids giggling.

My hands shook as I poured milk into the pan. Just a little. Barely noticeable.

But I noticed. Felt the adrenaline still coursing through . The aftermath of battle. Of killing. Of everything.

"You okay down there?" Damien appeared in the doorway. Concern etched on his face.

"Fine." The lie ca easily. "Just making hot chocolate."

He crossed the room in three strides. His arms wrapping around from behind. His chin resting on my shoulder.

"You don’t have to be fine all the ti." His voice was soft. Just for . "Not with ."

I leaned back against him. Let his warmth seep into . His strength steady .

"I killed her." The confession ca out whispered. "I poisoned my own sister. Watched her die. And I don’t—I don’t feel guilty."

"Should I feel guilty?" I turned in his arms. "Should I regret it?"

"No." His hand cupped my face. "She chose her path. You protected our family. There’s nothing to feel guilty about."

"But I’m a mother." The words tumbled out. "I’m supposed to be—I don’t know—better than that? Softer? Less—"

"You’re a Luna." He cut off. "An Alpha. A warrior. And yes, a mother. All of those things. You don’t have to choose."

His lips found mine. Soft. Brief. But enough to quiet the doubts. The questions. The fears.

"Daddy!" Lily’s voice from upstairs. "We’re ready!"

He pulled back. Smiled. "Duty calls."

---

We gathered in the living room. The four of us curled up on the big couch. Kids in pajamas. Hot chocolate in mugs with way too many marshmallows.

Perfect.

"Tell us a story!" Lily demanded. She’d wedged herself between and Damien. Her small body warm against my side.

"What kind of story?" I asked.

"A wolf story!" Adrian piped up from Damien’s other side. "With Alphas and battles and—"

"How about a different kind of story?" Damien suggested. His eyes eting mine. "A story about a family."

"That’s boring," Lily complained.

"Is it?" He smiled. "What if I told you about a beautiful oga wolf who didn’t know she was really an Alpha?"

Both kids perked up. Interested now.

"She lived in a small pack." Damien continued. His voice taking on that storytelling quality. "And everyone told her she was weak. Powerless. Nothing special."

"But she wasn’t," Adrian said. More statent than question.

"No." Damien’s hand found mine. Squeezed. "She was the strongest wolf in the whole territory. She just didn’t know it yet."

"Then what happened?" Lily leaned forward.

"She t another Alpha." His eyes held mine. "A grumpy one who thought he had to protect everyone. Who thought strength ant being alone."

"You," Adrian said flatly. "That’s you, Dad."

Damien laughed. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Definitely you," I added. "The grumpy part especially."

"Hey." But he was smiling.

"Did they fall in love?" Lily asked. "They had to fall in love. That’s how stories work."

"They did." I took over the story. "But it wasn’t easy. They both had secrets. Pain. Things they were afraid to face."

"Like what?" Adrian’s eyes were huge. Focused.

"Like the oga didn’t rember she was Alpha." I touched his cheek. "And the grumpy Alpha didn’t think he deserved to be loved."

"That’s sad," Lily whispered.

"It was." Damien pulled her closer. "But then sothing happened. Sothing that changed everything."

"What?" Both kids asked together.

"They had two perfect children." I smiled. "A brave son and a fierce daughter. And those children reminded them why they were fighting. What mattered most."

"Family," Adrian said softly.

"Exactly." Damien’s voice got thick. "Family. Pack. Ho. Those are the things worth fighting for."

"Did the oga rember she was Alpha?" Lily asked.

"She did." I nodded. "When her mate was in danger. When her family needed her. That’s when her true self erged."

"And they lived happily ever after?" Lily’s eyes were starting to droop. The hot chocolate and long day catching up.

"They’re working on it." Damien stood. Scooped her up easily. "But yeah. Happily ever after sounds about right."

---

Getting the kids to bed took another hour.

Lily wanted water. Then another story. Then one more hug. Then to show her drawing. Then another hug.

Adrian was quieter. But he held my hand extra tight when I tucked him in. His eyes searching my face.

By the ti I finally left their room, he was asleep. His breathing deep and even. Safe. Protected. Ho.

Damien was waiting in the hallway. Leaning against the wall. Watching with those silver-blue eyes.

"They’re down," I whispered.

"Finally." He pushed off the wall. Moved toward . "I thought Lily would never stop asking for things."

"She’s five. That’s her superpower."

"Among many." He smiled. Then his expression shifted. Got more serious. More intense. "Co with ."

"Where?"

"Our room." His hand found mine. "Just us."

My heart rate picked up. "Okay."

He led down the hall. Past Adrian and Lily’s rooms. Past the guest rooms. To the master bedroom at the end.

Our room. The one we’d shared before everything fell apart. The one that had been empty—cold—without him in it.

Damien opened the door. Pulled inside. Closed it behind us.

The click of the lock felt significant. Final. Like the world outside ceased to exist.

"Hi," he said softly.

"Hi." I smiled despite everything. Despite the exhaustion. The pain. All of it. "This feels familiar."

"Does it?" He stepped closer. "Because I feel like I’m seeing you for the first ti."

"What do you an?"

"My mate." His hands cupped my face. "My true mate. My equal. My Alpha."

The words hit differently now. After everything. After the battle. After I’d found my wolf. Found myself.

"I’m still ," I whispered.

"I know." His forehead pressed to mine. "That’s what makes you perfect."

His lips found mine. Soft at first. Gentle. Like he was afraid I’d break.

But I didn’t break. Hadn’t broken through any of it. And I wasn’t about to start now.

I kissed him back harder. My hands fisting in his shirt. Pulling him closer.

The gentleness shifted. Beca sothing more. Sothing desperate and hungry and real.

His hands moved to my waist. Lifted. I wrapped my legs around him automatically. Our bodies finding that familiar rhythm. That perfect fit.

He carried to the bed. Laid down carefully. His body covering mine. His weight solid. Real. Alive.

His hands moved over . Gentle. Worshipful. Like he was morizing every inch. Every curve. Every scar.

"You’re so beautiful." He breathed the words against my neck. "So strong. So perfect."

"Stop talking." I pulled him closer. "And kiss ."

He did. His mouth claiming mine. His body pressing into the mattress. His hands everywhere.

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