Chapter Text
You wake slowly, wrapped in the scent of cedar and pine. Your entire body is bathed in warmth as well, most likely from the heat radiating off of the body pressed against your back. Upon shifting, you find that your lower half is sore, though not unpleasantly slow. It prompts the memories from last night to drift back to you, slow and sweet like molasses.
Miguel’s breath fans over your neck. One arm is thrown over your body, holding you tight to him. You smile sleepily. Your mind is full of nothing but thoughts of happy, warm, content. A stark difference to what you’ve been experiencing the past couple of days.
The worry that plagued your mind is gone now—a bad dream. Thank the stars for it; if you had to endure it any longer you may have gone insane.
He likes you too. He wants more with you. The thoughts have you breathing out a long sigh, sinking further into his warmth.
“You awake?” He murmurs softly, his morning voice thick and raspy. You jump at first, then relax.
“No.”
Miguel chuckles, the sheets crinkling as he shifts closer. He kisses at your neck, splotchy from last night’s endeavors. You hum in approval, reaching back to curl your fingers in his thick hair. You find the braid and rub it between two fingers. His clawed fingers start to drift lower, trailing down your belly.
“Miguel,” you warn after realizing his intent. He freezes instantly. “I have things I need to say.”
His heart picks up in speed, the only thing that betrays his calm demeanor. “Go on.”
You huff and roll over to face him. His red eyes flit over your face. “I know you’re worried about being unfair to me. But in the middle of worrying about it, you were unfair to me without even realizing it. You can’t just make decisions about what’s best for me without consulting me first.”
He sucks in a small breath. “I know.”
Your hands cup his face, cradling his jaw tenderly. The touch says I may be upset, but I still love you. “So why did you do it then? I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I just want to know.”
Miguel looks away, sighing. “I’m used to making decisions. I’m a leader, corazón. It’s what I do.”
That makes sense, you suppose. Not an excuse, but a good explanation. You trace his cheekbone. “Did you mean it, when you said that you want me to help you with the city?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Then that means we’re a team. We have to communicate with each other. No more keeping things and making decisions without me.” You lean forward, capturing his lips in a brief kiss. “Mkay?”
His lashes flutter shut. He chases your lips. “Mhm.”
He kisses you with more heat, more hunger. “Gentle,” you tell him when he wedges a hand between your bodies. Your mouth opens in surprise the moment he makes contact with your clit. He rubs lazy circles over it with the pad of his finger.
He’s softer with you compared to last night. More focused on loving, perhaps, than claiming. Each kiss is long and sweet and leaves you panting into his mouth. He swallows each gasp and every little moan.
“You’re so good, so sweet,” he croons softly. His head dips to press a kiss to the mark on your neck. “I love you.”
Your heart stutters.
The orgasm he pulls from you is small. It’s not nearly as earth-shattering as the ones you experienced the previous night. But it still makes your brain melt, makes your body fuzzy and warm.
After that, you climb in his lap and ride him steadily. He keeps his hands on your hips as you grind against him, careful not to dig his claws too deep. Miguel looks so pretty like this: with his hair tousled, full lips parted, cheeks dusted red. You still can’t quite believe how you’ve managed to get so lucky.
With him under you—splayed out and face twisted in bliss—you feel nothing short of a goddess. The noises he makes when you pet his ears make you feel powerful. When you generously squeeze his pecs, you feel like you have the world at your palms.
You start to pick up in speed, bracing yourself on your hands to help yourself. The angle has him brushing against that familiar spongy spot. You bite your lip, chasing the feeling.
“Miguel? What you said last - hah - night . . . about giving Bri a sibling-“
His hips jump suddenly. You gasp from the rough movement.
“Dios, can’t just say things like that,” he groans. He seizes control of the pace then, and you happily give him the reins.
“S-sorry,” you moan as he drives up into you sloppily. You move your hips into his thrusts. “I just, I want that too. But maybe - maybe not so soon.” You take a big gulp of air, struggling to get the words out. Every thrust punches them from your throat. “I just want to get used to things. Y’know?”
He slows then, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “Of course.” A large hand settles on your nape. He brings you down until your foreheads press together. “Anything.”
This is how you spend the better part of your morning: lovemaking as rays of morning light bathe you both. After you’re finally satisfied and pleasantly sore, Miguel prepares a bath and a meal for you. Gabriella comes home later that day and doesn’t seem to notice the welt on your neck.
The three of you have dinner together. You sleep that night—held in Miguel’s arms—with a full belly and a pack-bond connecting your swollen heart to his.
When you do finally move in, you gently explain to Gabriella about yours and Miguel’s new relationship. She looks confused for a second before replying: “I thought you were doing that already?”
At the time, you’d been embarrassed, but you laugh about it later.
That night, she takes your hand and drags you outside, insisting vehemently that Miguel stays inside. It’s freezing, but she insists it’s important, so you hold your tongue. You trudge through the snow after her, laughing at how she stumbles through the fluffy powder.
Once she’s decided you’re far enough away, she faces you with a nervous smile. “I have a secret to tell you,” she informs you. Her tail swishes behind her. You raise an eyebrow and lean down when she beckons you. “I never told you why I pack-bonded with you.”
“Oh Gabi, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
Her little brows furrow. You chuckle at her resemblance to Miguel. “But I want to.” Shaking your head fondly, you tilt your ear towards her once more. “You reminded . . . “ she pauses, swallows, and then breathes deeply, “your smell reminded me of mami before she was gone.”
The world around you seems to still. Your breathing stutters and your eyes go wide. “Oh.” Your face crumples. “Gabi,” you coo, pulling her into a tight embrace. Despite the snow and biting air, your chest was brimming with warmth. You hope she can feel the affection exuding from your very being. From the way her little claws grip your waist, she just might.
“I thought you’d be good,” she says, burrowing into her neck. “And I was right.”
Who knows how much time passes as you kneel in the snow, hugging the young wolf. Your knees were cold but god you could care less. All that mattered was the little girl in your arms.
The little girl who changed your life. You’re so thankful you worked up the courage to unlock that cage, all those months ago. It feels like a lifetime has passed. But one thing hasn’t changed, and that’s the fact that you’d do anything for Gabriella.
You lean back, cupping her face in your hands. Her eyes were a little wet as she desperately fought crying. You brush away the stray tears with your thumbs.
There’s nothing more you want than to watch and help her grow. She’d be a strong, resilient woman, and you couldn’t wait to watch her transform.
She presses her forehead against yours, sniffling. You smile, holding her against you.
Miguel stares when you return. Gabriella’s bundled in your arms, her body shaking slightly. Your eyes are nothing short of fond. The both of you are wet and cold, but happy. Miguel smiles and joins you.
That night, the three of you sleep in a pile. Gabriella rests between you, snuggled between your bodies. You and Miguel each have an arm wrapped around her, protecting her even in the depths of slumber.
It’s here that you realize nothing will ever harm you again. Your old life was behind you—merely a faded nightmare now. You were finally safe.
~~~
Seasons come and go. Months turn to years. You adapt to your new life. You don’t change necessarily, but you do grow smarter. Wiser, maybe. More capable of leading and making decisions for the people of the city—your people.
Miguel is by your side through all of it, through thick and thin, through tears and laughs. He’s next to you during the day and curled against your back at night. A presence that never leaves. You’d never want him too.
Gabriella grows taller—frighteningly so. You’re afraid she may have picked up some genes from her father. She jokes that she’ll be taller than you one day. You tell her when that happens she’s getting kicked out.
So much time has passed. So much so, that other things have had time to take root.
You sit on the couch, nervously bouncing your knee. There was no one in the living room. More specifically: Miguel wasn’t here. He’d gone to get something from the other room. And you’d left your book on the table. And he’d specifically told you not to move.
But he wouldn’t know, you reason to yourself. Your arms are crossed over your chest—over your slightly-protruding belly. He couldn’t. He’d come back in the room and find you on the couch as though you’d never left.
Mind made up, you carefully sit up and quietly pad over to the table. Years of living in the house supply you with the knowledge of which floorboards creak under too much weight. You perform a little dance over the floor until, finally, you wrap your fingers around the leather. Wearing a smile of victory, you turn back around.
He’s waiting for you. You gasp, expression immediately turning guilty.
“I told you to stay put,” he growls, herding you back to the couch.
“Oh come on, Mig. It was a few meters.”
“A few meters too many.”
“I’m not made of glass, y’know.”
He huffs, clearly disagreeing. Ever since you’d told him you were pregnant, he’d gotten unbearably protective. The day he found out, he’d picked you up and spun you around. Then he had quickly set you down, muttering about he shouldn’t be so rough (even though he hadn’t been).
From then on, it’d been orders to stay still and promises of I’ll do whatever you need. It was endearing, yes, seeing him worry and fret. But you were an independent woman, and your patience had rapidly worn thin.
Gently, Miguel pushes you back down against the cushions. Then he drapes himself over your body like a heavy blanket, one hand holding your stomach.
A relenting sigh escapes you. You tangle your fingers in his hair and lean into him. “Gotta go get Gabi from school soon,” you tell him, rubbing a fluffy ear in your palm.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he states. You tug his fur in warning.
“Don’t be like that. You can’t keep me here for the next few months.” The look he gives you says yes, I can. You frown at him. “I’m serious. I still have things to do. Bri’s teacher wanted me to help teach the kids.”
His mouth presses to your jaw. “That can wait, can’t it?”
You tilt your head until your lips brush together. “Nope.” And, “I’ll come with you to get Gabi.”
Miguel sighs, knowing he can’t argue with you. Especially when you’re pregnant.
Not long after that, you leave to pick up Gabriella. Miguel is practically glued to your side, coolly glaring at anyone whose gaze lingers too long. Some whisper hushed congratulations to you and you give them a beaming smile.
The citizens have grown used to you being human, just like you’ve grown accustomed to living in a world of pointed ears and swishing tails and fluttering wings. Uneasiness and hesitance at your presence have long since faded. They’ve come to respect you, and you them.
You’ve truly become intertwined with this place: every loose brick and sharp corner engraved in your heart, mind, and soul. It was your city, your people, your home.
Gabriella runs to you at a dizzying speed when the school doors open. But then she skids to a stop in front of you and gently hugs your abdomen. You chuckle fondly, ruffling her curls.
“Hello hermanita,” she murmurs, nuzzling your belly.
You and Miguel exchange a look. “Gabi, we don’t know if it’s a girl.”
“But I do,” she huffs. “I know it.”
And when, months later, your daughter is born, you’ll think back on that moment and laugh.
She’s born on a sunny spring day. You’re tired from the hours upon hours of labor you endured, but as soon as you hear her little wails, your arms are immediately reaching for her. She cries and cries against your chest and you shush and shush her, kissing her head, her cheeks, her tiny little hands—anything you can reach.
Everything about her is so small. Her nose, her curled little wolf ears, her tail. You’ve never held something so frail, so precious. You decide, then, that you will do anything for her.
Miguel’s eyes are wet when he holds her. If it were possible, she seems even smaller being held by him. He murmurs to her in his tongue and kisses all the places you did and more. And then he leans over and kisses you, a few tears finally escaping.
When Gabriella asks for her, you can see Miguel’s hesitation to let her go. But he does so anyways, instructing her sternly on how to support her head and her body. Gabriella does so perfectly, staring at her baby sister in awe.
“Hello,” she whispers, like the baby could respond. The baby’s hand searches, searches, until it finds her finger and squeezes. Gabriella melts, tail wagging rapidly. “I’m going to love you forever.”
Despite the exhaustion clinging to the marrow in your bones, you stave off sleep to gaze at your family with nothing short of unbridled adoration.
You name her Valeria.
~~~
It’s pouring outside. Water streams down the windows. The occasional lightning illuminates the dark and thunder rattles the house. Gabriella reassures Valeria on the floor, distracting her with various toys scattered around the rug.
She’s taken to the role of a big sister effortlessly. Sometimes you joke about how often she hogs her from you and Miguel, but really, it’s not even a joke. She takes Val as soon as you finish nursing her and steals her when Mig cuddles her on the couch.
You’re glad Valeria will grow up surrounded by love and support. She will never, ever, have to experience the horrors that you, or the rest of your family did. She will never be locked in a cage, or have to watch the light leave a loved one’s eyes, or be worked until both body and soul were numb.
No, you will make sure that never happens.
“Hey, Mig?”
He raises his eyes to yours. “Yes, mi vida?”
You watch as Gabi and Val continue to play. Gabi blabbers nonesense to her, and Val blubbers back whilst clapping her chubby hands. You huff affectionately, lowering your voice a little.
“Do you think there’ll ever be a day where we can coexist?”
We. Humans and hybrids.
Miguel blinks. You don’t blame him. You have a tendency to bottle questions and ask them in the most random, quiet moments. Like now.
He carefully sets the book he was reading down. “Why do you ask?” He responds carefully.
Val crawls after her big sister, squealing in delight. You smile fondly for a moment, before it falls into a tight frown.
“Because more families deserve to have this.” You meet his gaze. “We figured it out, didn’t we?”
There’s a few beats of silence. Then the chair scrapes as he rises and comes to stand next to you. He wraps his arms around your middle. “Not everyone is like us.”
You sigh, watching your kids laugh and play. “I know.”
The world you dream of is a near unattainable one, you know that. But you had thought the same thing back at the estate. So maybe, maybe, there was a slim chance that it could happen.
He kisses your neck. “Let’s just focus on the present, nena.”
Humming, you lace your fingers through his. He’s right. You have a city and a husband and your girls to look after.
Gabriella runs up to you, distraught, holding a screaming Valeria. Miguel rumbles a comforting noise, holding his littlest daughter. Gabi is hoisted in your arms and you tickle her sides until she squeals. You share a kiss with Miguel, smiling against his lips as your eyes flutter shut.
They were your life now.
There’s no other one you’d rather be living.