Page 362 of Alpha Mates

When it’s all over, and nothing’s left, he falls asleep in my arms, his face slick with tears.

“That’s the most he’s ever said to us,” I whisper as I lift my gaze to my mate. It takes him longer to do the same, but when he does, I see the resignation in his expression. I say it anyway. “We should keep him.”

“Julian,” he sighs, but I shake my head against whatever he’s going to say.

“I know it’s crazy, but hear me out, Aiden,” I beg. “He’s already moved around so much; to place him with someone else would be cruel. And there’s no telling what he’s been through, but you’ve gone through some of it, too. There won’t be anyone out there who’s better suited to help him work through it all. Especially the worst parts—he’ll be feeling it too soon, right? He’ll need someone, Aiden.”

“Julian,” Aiden breathes again, but I press on.

“He doesn’t even misbehave, and maybe that’s because he thinks he has to be perfect, but he’sgood, Aiden,” I groan as hope floods my heart, filling the space Levi already carved out without me realising it. “He’s warming up to us more every day, and helikesme. When has a kideverliked me?”

“Julian—”

“Tell me you didn’t feel the same thing I did the first night when we put him to bed, o-or whenever we sit down to eat together …when he smiles at us?” I cradle Levi’s head to me, refusing to let go. “He fits perfectly into our lives, Aiden.”

I’m panting by the time I finish, but I’m all out of arguments, and Aiden sees it.

“Are you done?” he asks anyway, his expression frustratingly plain.

I huff before I reluctantly mumble, “Yes.”

“We’re not keeping him, Julian,” he says, making all that fluttering hope shrivel up. “We should adopt him.”

My jaw hangs loose as I stare at my mate—my grinning mate, who took far too long to say that. Joy floods back into me, and if not for the child in my arms, I’d reach over and twist Aiden’s ear for almost giving me a heart attack.

He must see it because he laughs a little before dropping his gaze to Levi. It softens, and for the first time, I let myself enjoy the way he unfurls for the pup.

“We’ll do it the right way,” he says. “Through the Council and then in the pack. We’ll make him our own if he wants to be. But—” he pauses to glance up at me again. “We just found out that we already have a child coming, Julian. Do you think we can really handle raising another right now?”

“Yes,” I reply immediately. “Yes, because we want to. Yes, because we’ll figure it out. Yes, because we don’t have any other choice. Levi belongs with us, Aiden, and nobody else.”

It’s a fact he knows as well as I do, he just wants to hear it, and the second he does, hia lips split into a smile warm enough to rival Goddess’s light.

“Then, that’s sorted, huh?” He replies, and I barely silence my scream as I slide my hand over his and Levi’s.

I want to wake him up and tell him that he can stay with us, that he’d be ours and we’d be his, but we have to do this right. I couldn’t bear to give him any hope, only for it to fall through.

We’d go through the proper steps with the Council and the pack, like Aiden said, and once it was official—and only then—would we tell him. But in my heart, and the part of our bond that’s already trying to split into three, I already know that this is it—the start of our family.

Chapter 72

Aiden

Arms limp at my sides, I stare up at the house that’d been my home up until a few months ago.

Beyond the new pearl shade on the walls, it looks the same as always—same thick beams holding the porch up, same scent of rosemary wafting from where it grows under the kitchen window, same scuffed steps worn down from rushing in and out.

It’s the first time I’ve come back since the Coronation, and I haven’t missed it. So I don’t know why I expect to feel a sudden surge of longing or nostalgia to hit me. It doesn’t.

It’s just a house with memories I don’t cling to anymore than I do the people living inside.

I flex my fingers and walk up to the door. No point dragging it out. I knock.

The door opens, and my father stands there, his expression resigned, like he’s been expecting this. Like he’s already accepted whatever’s coming. I frown because I still don’t know how this is going to end, but he seems to.

“Come in,” he says, stepping aside. I wipe my shoes on the mat and enter without a word.

He shuts the door behind me, and I wait for him to lead the way to where I know Ma is waiting. She sits on the couch with her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. Her sharp eyes lift to mine, but they’re void of their usual self-assigned omniscience. There’s bags under them, and as I pay a closer look to my father, I find a matching set under his.