Chapter Text
I don’t remember much of being sick. I woke to Matt curled up next to me, among sleeping wolves. Bran was buried in my side, dozing. I shifted a fraction of an inch and he jolted up, watching me, scrutinizing my every move, ready for any sign of encroaching illness.
“Easy, babe,” he reassures me.
“The others?”
“They’re fine. All asleep. Charles slipped them some of your tea.”
I pressed my head into his neck and didn’t move. But I didn’t shy away from him. I felt him relax slightly more at that. He still worries. I doubt he’ll stop any time soon. “Are we okay?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry for being angry and scaring you, and for cutting you off from the bond.”
“Okay. I’m sorry for fighting while pregnant.” And I was, but I’d do it again, if I had to.
“Hmm. Two Dot?” he asks, like he doesn’t already know. I nod into him.
“Okay.” He kisses the top of my head. “What baby names are you thinking of?” And I know we’re okay.
“What about Branson?” I ask. He flicks me on the top of the head. I grin into his shoulder. “What about Eira?”
“Snow?” he asks. “You want to know our kid something that Hipster?” His brain caught up with his mouth. “We’re having a girl?!”
“Yeah,” I murmur. He was all tense, already worrying. Lord help us if I had to keep being the calm, rational one in this thing. “I like it. Snow. Snow Mountain if you really think about it. Good name for a kid from the Marrok Pack of Montana.”
“And she can always change it if she doesn’t wear beanies in the summer,” he mutters. And his wolves don’t get his funny side often.
“Which will be never because that’s Montana weather,” I respond. But he doesn’t care all that much. He doesn’t. Charles and Samuel have gone by half a dozen names by now. I doubt they even remember all of them. Bran sure does, but names matter less than what you do, he says.
I never asked if Bran kept his name. It doesn’t matter. I’ve had several. Names matter far less than deeds, he’s right about that. And honestly, Samuel had found a way to make morphin work for wolves. Like really really work.
“I’m not going to run,” he tells me. “Not again.”
I snort. “I’ve never been scared of you running, you always get your head out of your ass eventually.”
“Never been truer words said,” Samuel agrees, he slips a hand on my head. “Fever’s down.”
“There was a fever?” I ask, sluggishly, trying to jerk his hand off my face.
“Course there was.” He flipped the blankets up to inspect my leg. Bran growled softly, warning his son away from his injured mate. I flick his nose in retribution. He gives me an unremorseful look. “Steady,” Samuel tells us. “The wound’s clear. I want you on bedrest, actual bedrest, not your version of it.” He broke out a flashlight and continued his exam.
“Well?” I ask when he’d finished.
“Better. Try not to die again from hypothermia after the fact, eh?” I nod. “The baby’s fine as well. All’s quiet in the house. Charles has been bossing everybody around adeptly.” I grin.
“Have not,” Charles grumbles at us. Bran snorts into my shoulder. I had a feeling I’d never get the full story, but Charles was carefully avoiding Bran’s’ eyes. They probably had some dumb spat.
“How’s Anna?” I ask him.
“She’s fine. She’s on me about adopting more,” he continues after a moment, pulled out of him from me being an Omega, and well, Bran’s mate. Bran keeps his eyes closed, because he thinks, out of insanity, that I’m better at such matters.
“You’ll be fine,” I tell him. I sit up, elebowing Bran when he’d have tried to keep me down. “Stop that,” I order him. Sam, being a very good sport, helps me to and from the bathroom.
“The baby’s fine?” I ask him, softly so the others can’t hear. He nods. “You’re sure?” He nods again. “And my leg?”
“You might have some issues, you should be healed in a couple of weeks.” I sigh in relief.
“And sex?” I ask him. He turns bright red. But well, I’m a predator. And Bran is mine , and somewhere he forgot that. Dumb wolf, thinking he ran could run out on me. There was a goddamn reason Bran had been with other wolves when he’d taken off running.
“Be careful?” I snort at him and glance at my belly. “You know what I mean.”
“And Ari?” I ask him, letting it go.
That gets a wide smile from him. “She’s great. She’s painting a room light blue.”
“Yeah?” I ask him, letting him help me back to the bed.
“Hm. We don’t know the sex yet, want it to be a surprise.”
I grin back. “I think it’s funny picturing my kid’s dating life.” Sam stares. “What? I’m allowed to find humor in my life.”
“Oh god,” he whimpers. “Ari’s going to torture any poor kid who even thinks about it. I’m gonna have to play the sane one.” I snort and pat his shoulder.
“I feel you.”
“No. No, you’re the insane one,” Bran tells me. “I’m the nice, happy, friendly dad who’ll- hey, stop laughing, they don’t know better.”
“Shut up, maybe they will,” I tell him, still laughing at the future, poor schmuck who won’t realize that Bran’s the threat.
And yeah, alright, I know it will be okay, it will work out.
Course that’s the night Matt picks a fight over nothing. I stare at the wolf, trapped in a cage, wounded beyond belief. Jesus. Bran props me up. I wanted to be there. Matt’s shaking. Bran looks at him, and he falls to the ground, snarling. Right.
“Bran, stop.” And he does. “Matt, stand up.” He does. Right. Okay. I nudge Bran so he leaves. Charles is still growling in the corner, clutching one of the new wolves. Right. “What happened?” I ask Charles.
“Matt got attacked by Luke.” And the translation of that was Matt provoked Luke, because otherwise Luke would be dead, or not walking around right now. Charles would’ve seen to that.
“So, we have options then. Bran’s going to call Adam to see if he can take Matt.”
Adam was more equipped to deal with trouble wolves. He’d done good with Ben after all, and Matt needed somebody a little bit more straightforward than my mate. Somebody had already done a number on the wolf with mind games, and Bran wasn’t the one to help that. We’d talked about it earlier, when Bran gave me a brief summary of what I’ve missed.
“What?” Matt asks, clearly caught by surprise.
“Well,” I say, gently, “You incited Luke. I don’t know how or why, but one day you’re going to pick the wrong fight with the wrong wolf and die. I’d rather prevent that.” Matt shakes. Charles casually wraps a hand around the wolf’s shoulder. Huh. Character growth.
“I can’t live with it, Ash.”
“Well, you’re going to for the moment, just for a bit, just for a little longer.” He nods, shakily. I nod slightly at Charles. He nods back. Matt isn’t moving an inch without his noticing now.
Yeah, okay, so maybe I should’ve interrogated Matt more on his past earlier in this. And I’m firmly betting that this whole thing is somehow Bran’s fault. And I’ll get him back for it. Somehow. Not that I don’t love his wolves.
“Right, Luke, here’s the thing, you can’t go around attacking submissive wolves. You keep that up, and I’ll help Charles burn your body into ashes, and whistle while I do that.”
“He attacked me,” Luke growled.
“Yep, I get that. But on the other hand, I’ll gut you like a fish. You have soldiering experience, you know how to put a person down without hurting them. You threw Matt into a glass wall, somebody who was clearly provoking you for non-dominance related issues. So, do it again, and you’ll be in more pain.”
“You know,” Charles says considering. “I know Asil has been wanting somebody to help around his house.” I nod. Asil likes Matt, and is a fair amount more demonstrative with his anger than Charles.
“Sounds good. You’re to help Asil with whatever household projects he wants for the next three weeks.” He bows his head, not able to disobey me. I dismiss Luke. He doesn’t dare argue. I stumble and Charles catches me before I fall.
“You need to take it easier,” he tells me. I grimace at him. “You’re worrying Da.”
“Doubtful,” I tell him, but I know better. I wrap an arm about his shoulders, and let him take most of my weight. “Hush,” I tell him, grumpy. Matt gets the other side. I huff at him. They steer me firmly back up the stairs. The bump is starting to develop. Pretty soon, Bran won’t let me leave the house (ha).
“What happened?” Bran asks, scooping me up effectively, far too easily ignoring my swearing at him.
“Over exertion,” Matt tells him, and hastily ducks his head back down.
“I’m not happy with you,” Bran informs him. “You’re to stay with Charles for your remainder in Aspen Creek. I cleared it with Hauptman, you’re to go when the snow lets up enough for you to drive there.”
“You’re trusting me to drive there?” Matt stupidly asks.
“No. Samuel’s driving with you back. Do I look like a wet behind the ears pup to you?” Bran snarls back.
“Leave the kid alone,” I tell him. “He’s grumpy because my ankles are swollen and the hormones go through the bond.”
“Is that actually true?” Samuel asks me, helping Bran deposit me back on the bed.
“Meh. It comes and goes.”
“It does not!” We all look at him, like we can’t smell lies, especially when he doesn’t even try. Bran sighs. “I want pickles and ice cream,” he complains to me.
“Sorry,” I say unremorsefully.
“You’re due in seven months,” Sam warns me. “Be careful. And listen to Charles.”
“Don’t worry. I know a midwife nearby.”
“What?” Bran nearly shouts.
“Yeah, I’m not having your sons pull a baby from my vaginia. It’s not a gonna happen.”
“Hey, I’m a professional,” Sam protests.
“Yeah and even you found it awkward last time. Besides, you’re going to be busy staying with Ariana. And Charles will be busy keeping me from killing my mate.”
“It might be quick,” Bran reasons. I stare at him. Cornicks are never reasonable or not stubborn. It’s a good thing I love to argue.
Eventually the others go home. Eventually my leg heals. Okay, they leave because my leg healed.
“You sure this is safe?” he asks me when I straddle him. I press down. He groans. “Fair point.” He rests his hands on my hips. “Why are you still here?”
“You’re okay in bed.”
“Oh really?” He presses up and flips us over. He spends the next few hours teaching me what centuries of experience can mean.
“Why though?” he asks when we’re both getting our breathing back under control.
“I’m in love you, which sounds lame, but I love you, and you don’t get to quit me.” I flip us so I’m back on top.
“I can be agreeable to that,” he says meekly. For whatever reason, he trusted me enough that his submission wasn’t fake, this wolf who bows to no one, who gives no ground to no other creature, willing gave me his throat.
I love him because he’s Bran, because he’d never try to hurt me or leave me. I know him. He wants his people safe. He’s prepared to be infinitely ruthless to accomplish his single goal. And I know that life. So yeah, he doesn’t get to quit me.
*Six Months Later*
I stare at Ash. No fucking way. She glares back. “Go call the bleeding woman before I beat you to death with my bare hands, dearie.”
I hasten (I don’t run) for the phone. “Ash’s in labor,” I say to the other person, and hang it up.
“I’m never having sex with you again.”
“Okay,” I reassure her. It’d be fine with me, really. Lots of cold fucking showers over the past few months had proven that.
She swears heartily at me. “I will kill whoever came up with this whole process.”
“Easy,” I murmur, steering her towards the bed. “It’ll be okay.”
“If I chop your dick off, then we’ll see.”
“Shhh. It’s alright. Asil’s getting Charles.”
“Good.”
“It’s going to be okay. We got this.”
“Hell yeah we do. Witches, Nazi, werewolves, and general crazy. Kids have nothing on us.” Oh how very wrong we were.
The last few months had been largely quiet. My pack knew better than to start any kind of madness this close to the birth of my child. Ash would’ve killed them before I would’ve had the chance and pleasure.
Three days later, my daughter is brought into the world, one day after Sam’s kid. Sam’s son was healthy. Ariana was already up and moving around.
I kiss Ash’s head. She sags into me. “We’re never doing that again,” she orders me. She was fine, alive. She could command me to fly around the earth, and I could probably do it at the moment.
“Okay,” I agree meekly, tracking Hela, the midwife carefully. She quickly hands over my daughter before I have to move to rip her throat out. Hela nods once to me, and backs out of the room. Charles follows, along with Asil and Anna. I relax more fully into Ash.
“Eira Cornick,” she murmurs, brushing the baby’s head. “You think you’re going to be like your ma or da.”
“Only time will tell.” The pack was healthy and happy. Our negotiations with others have never been better. Peace had fallen over us.
Things weren’t the way they’d been when I’d met her. Ash had changed me for the better, and I for her. Time will bring new challenges, but looking at my newborn and my mate, I knew that we would thrive.
The end.