Page 25
The audience applauded again, and I joined my team to take the runway in a final bow. Once I came backstage, the noise around me began to blur, the excited chatter of the team and the rustle of fabric fading into the background as I allowed myself a moment to breathe. My body ached with exhaustion, but it was a sweet ache, the kind that came from pouring your soul into something and seeing it come to life.
Denver stood off to the side, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the chaos with his usual grumpy demeanor. But there was a softness in his eyes, a quiet pride that made my heart swell. He stood a few feet away, leaning against a rack of garments with his arms crossed, his presence a quiet storm in the chaos. His tailored suit was perfectly fitted, the deep charcoal fabric catching the dim backstage lights and accentuating the broad lines of his shoulders. His dark ebony hair was slightly disheveled as if he'd been running his hands through it, and his piercing blue eyes burned with an intensity that made my stomach flip. He was watching me, his gaze steady and unflinching, and I felt the weight of it like a physical touch, anchoring me in the moment.
Joining the applause from the other side of the velvet curtain, he clapped his hands, his lips tugging into a smile. He'd been my rock through it all, my partner in every sense of the word.
"Sasha." His eyes gleamed with a mix of pride and something else I couldn't quite place.
He pushed off the rack and took a step toward me, his movements deliberate and predatory, yet there was a softness in his expression that made my heart swell. "You were incredible," he said. "The collection, the show, you've outdone yourself." Denver's gaze softened, and he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from my face. "You deserve this, Sasha. Every bit of it." His thumb lingered on my cheek, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.
I felt the weight of his pride settle over me like a warm blanket.
His touch was warm and soothing, but it also made the secret I'd been holding onto feel impossibly heavier pressing against my chest like a second heartbeat. My hands instinctively settled over my still-flat stomach, and I took a deep breath, the scent of his cologne mingling with the faint tang of my own nervous sweat.
"Denver," I hesitated, searching for the right words. "This collection is going to be my last big project for a while."
His brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. "What do you mean? You're not leaving XMGH, are you?"
I shook my head, a nervous laugh escaping me. "No, no, nothing like that." I paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "It's just that I've got something else to focus on now. Something kind of unexpected."
His eyes narrowed slightly, and I could see the gears turning in his head. "Sasha," he said carefully. "What's going on?"
I took another deep breath, my heart racing. "I'm pregnant," I blurted out, the words tumbling from my lips before I could second-guess myself.
For a moment, Denver just stared at me, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, and my stomach churned with a mix of anxiety and anticipation.
The noise backstage seemed to fade into the background, leaving us in a cocoon of silence. My stomach churned with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. I hadn't planned to tell him like this, but the moment had felt right, or as right as it could get in the middle of a post-show frenzy.
Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. His entire being seemed to light up. It was the kind of smile I rarely saw from him, one that made him look almost boyish, despite the sharp edges of his closed-off and grumpy demeanor. His hands came up to cup my face.
"You're serious?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion.
I nodded, my own smile breaking through despite the nerves. "Dead serious. I found out last week, but I wanted to wait until after the show to tell you. I didn't want it to distract you, or myself, from pulling this off."
Denver's thumb traced the curve of my cheek, his eyes searching mine as if trying to make sure this wasn't some elaborate dream. Then, without warning, he let out a joyous cry and pulled me into his arms.
I could feel the steady beat of his heart against my chest, and for a moment, the world outside didn't exist. It was just Denver, me, and the tiny life growing inside me.
He pulled back slightly, his voice trailing off as if he couldn't find the words. Then he shook his head, a low, almost disbelieving laugh escaping him. "This is everything, Sasha. Everything."
My chest tightened, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as I clung to him. I'd been so nervous about his reaction, worried he might feel overwhelmed or even hesitant. Worried that this would disrupt our plans to launch our own fashion brand and forge our own path away from XMGH. But the way he looked at me now, like I'd just handed him the universe, made all those fears dissolve away into nothingness.
SIX YEARS LATER
Outside of the living room, the sounds of laughter and playful growls trickled in through the window from the grounds of our sprawling estate.
The scent of freshly baked cookies wafted in from the kitchen, mingling with the earthy aroma of the potted plants scattered throughout the room. Outside, the sprawling lawn stretched out like a sea of green, the trees swaying gently in the breeze.
Our two children, Aurora, a spirited little girl with Denver's dark hair and my hazel eyes, and Rowan, a mischievous boy with a laugh that could light up a room, were playing a game they had created with Denver that was a mix of tag and wrestling.
I sat on the overstuffed couch, a soft smile on my face as I sipped tea from my favorite porcelain mug. The warmth of the tea sweetened with honey, spread through me, comforting and familiar, as I watched my little family through the windows.
Denver was gentle with the kids, letting them tackle him and rolling on the grass as they wrestled. His laughter, deep and unrestrained, carried through the open windows and filled the room with a sense of joy that made my heart swell.
Aurora was already showing signs of her shifter heritage. She playfully growled at her father, her eyes glowing faintly before she launched herself into his arms. Rowan was still too young, barely having learned how to walk six months before. He sat on the grass, plucking tufts of it, and giggled as Denver play snarled at him.
Eventually, the three wolves exhausted themselves. Denver carried Rowan in one arm, the boy's head resting sleepily on his shoulder, while Aurora followed behind, her cheeks flushed with exertion. Denver collapsed onto the couch next to me, letting out an exaggerated groan as he laid his head back. "I'm not a young pup anymore. Your children are relentless," he grumbled, though his eyes twinkled with affection.
I laughed, leaning into him and giving him a peck on the forehead. "They get that from you," I said.
The kids piled onto the couch, demanding a story. Denver, ever the grumpy alpha, pretended to protest but eventually gave in. He told them a story about a lone wolf who found his pack in the most unexpected place, a story that was clearly about him and me. The kids listened with wide eyes, their little faces painted with wonder, while I rested my head on Denver's shoulder.
He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer and I placed my hand over his heart so I could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest.
As the story unfolded, I closed my eyes, letting the sound of his voice wash over me.
Denver stood off to the side, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the chaos with his usual grumpy demeanor. But there was a softness in his eyes, a quiet pride that made my heart swell. He stood a few feet away, leaning against a rack of garments with his arms crossed, his presence a quiet storm in the chaos. His tailored suit was perfectly fitted, the deep charcoal fabric catching the dim backstage lights and accentuating the broad lines of his shoulders. His dark ebony hair was slightly disheveled as if he'd been running his hands through it, and his piercing blue eyes burned with an intensity that made my stomach flip. He was watching me, his gaze steady and unflinching, and I felt the weight of it like a physical touch, anchoring me in the moment.
Joining the applause from the other side of the velvet curtain, he clapped his hands, his lips tugging into a smile. He'd been my rock through it all, my partner in every sense of the word.
"Sasha." His eyes gleamed with a mix of pride and something else I couldn't quite place.
He pushed off the rack and took a step toward me, his movements deliberate and predatory, yet there was a softness in his expression that made my heart swell. "You were incredible," he said. "The collection, the show, you've outdone yourself." Denver's gaze softened, and he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from my face. "You deserve this, Sasha. Every bit of it." His thumb lingered on my cheek, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.
I felt the weight of his pride settle over me like a warm blanket.
His touch was warm and soothing, but it also made the secret I'd been holding onto feel impossibly heavier pressing against my chest like a second heartbeat. My hands instinctively settled over my still-flat stomach, and I took a deep breath, the scent of his cologne mingling with the faint tang of my own nervous sweat.
"Denver," I hesitated, searching for the right words. "This collection is going to be my last big project for a while."
His brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. "What do you mean? You're not leaving XMGH, are you?"
I shook my head, a nervous laugh escaping me. "No, no, nothing like that." I paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "It's just that I've got something else to focus on now. Something kind of unexpected."
His eyes narrowed slightly, and I could see the gears turning in his head. "Sasha," he said carefully. "What's going on?"
I took another deep breath, my heart racing. "I'm pregnant," I blurted out, the words tumbling from my lips before I could second-guess myself.
For a moment, Denver just stared at me, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, and my stomach churned with a mix of anxiety and anticipation.
The noise backstage seemed to fade into the background, leaving us in a cocoon of silence. My stomach churned with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. I hadn't planned to tell him like this, but the moment had felt right, or as right as it could get in the middle of a post-show frenzy.
Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. His entire being seemed to light up. It was the kind of smile I rarely saw from him, one that made him look almost boyish, despite the sharp edges of his closed-off and grumpy demeanor. His hands came up to cup my face.
"You're serious?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion.
I nodded, my own smile breaking through despite the nerves. "Dead serious. I found out last week, but I wanted to wait until after the show to tell you. I didn't want it to distract you, or myself, from pulling this off."
Denver's thumb traced the curve of my cheek, his eyes searching mine as if trying to make sure this wasn't some elaborate dream. Then, without warning, he let out a joyous cry and pulled me into his arms.
I could feel the steady beat of his heart against my chest, and for a moment, the world outside didn't exist. It was just Denver, me, and the tiny life growing inside me.
He pulled back slightly, his voice trailing off as if he couldn't find the words. Then he shook his head, a low, almost disbelieving laugh escaping him. "This is everything, Sasha. Everything."
My chest tightened, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as I clung to him. I'd been so nervous about his reaction, worried he might feel overwhelmed or even hesitant. Worried that this would disrupt our plans to launch our own fashion brand and forge our own path away from XMGH. But the way he looked at me now, like I'd just handed him the universe, made all those fears dissolve away into nothingness.
SIX YEARS LATER
Outside of the living room, the sounds of laughter and playful growls trickled in through the window from the grounds of our sprawling estate.
The scent of freshly baked cookies wafted in from the kitchen, mingling with the earthy aroma of the potted plants scattered throughout the room. Outside, the sprawling lawn stretched out like a sea of green, the trees swaying gently in the breeze.
Our two children, Aurora, a spirited little girl with Denver's dark hair and my hazel eyes, and Rowan, a mischievous boy with a laugh that could light up a room, were playing a game they had created with Denver that was a mix of tag and wrestling.
I sat on the overstuffed couch, a soft smile on my face as I sipped tea from my favorite porcelain mug. The warmth of the tea sweetened with honey, spread through me, comforting and familiar, as I watched my little family through the windows.
Denver was gentle with the kids, letting them tackle him and rolling on the grass as they wrestled. His laughter, deep and unrestrained, carried through the open windows and filled the room with a sense of joy that made my heart swell.
Aurora was already showing signs of her shifter heritage. She playfully growled at her father, her eyes glowing faintly before she launched herself into his arms. Rowan was still too young, barely having learned how to walk six months before. He sat on the grass, plucking tufts of it, and giggled as Denver play snarled at him.
Eventually, the three wolves exhausted themselves. Denver carried Rowan in one arm, the boy's head resting sleepily on his shoulder, while Aurora followed behind, her cheeks flushed with exertion. Denver collapsed onto the couch next to me, letting out an exaggerated groan as he laid his head back. "I'm not a young pup anymore. Your children are relentless," he grumbled, though his eyes twinkled with affection.
I laughed, leaning into him and giving him a peck on the forehead. "They get that from you," I said.
The kids piled onto the couch, demanding a story. Denver, ever the grumpy alpha, pretended to protest but eventually gave in. He told them a story about a lone wolf who found his pack in the most unexpected place, a story that was clearly about him and me. The kids listened with wide eyes, their little faces painted with wonder, while I rested my head on Denver's shoulder.
He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer and I placed my hand over his heart so I could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest.
As the story unfolded, I closed my eyes, letting the sound of his voice wash over me.