Page 35 of Finding Forever with the Alpha Pack (Return to Wolf Creek #4)

Five years later-

Having six under six was chaotic enough, but seven under seven? That was a twist I didn’t see coming. When I found out I was pregnant with Conrad’s baby during the next heat cycle, I could hardly believe it—especially since I thought I’d finally get a year or two off from having babies. Valentina was a surprise. And apparently, birth control is no match for shifter biology. But I wouldn’t trade her for the world. She was the least fussy of all my babies, sleeping through the night from day one. Thank the heavens she took after her daddy in that way.

Year two didn’t just bring babies; it brought changes to the entire pack structure. Ambrose, his mate, and her other mate took seats on the new council we’d set up to oversee the packs, helping to share the load. Many other alphas who had stepped down returned to leadership roles, easing the pressure on my growing family. It felt like the pack was finally settling into a new rhythm.

By midyear, Ambrose announced Lily was expecting twins, and I’d be their godmother. I couldn’t help but smile, picturing the family continuing to grow, the bonds deepening, and knowing that through every twist and turn, we were building something lasting together.

Year three, and Ambrose brings his family over to visit, each of them beaming, with Lily’s twins cradled in their arms. I’m surrounded by my seven children, but the moment I hold those two new babies, my heart practically melts, and I feel something spark inside me. My ovaries damn near explode just thinking about adding to our own chaotic, beautiful pack.

Needless to say, the next heat cycle is intense, like I’m burning from the inside out, and it’s all hands on deck. Fair game for everyone, and let’s just say, we didn’t waste a single moment. I had thought the triplets might have been a fluke, a miracle that wouldn’t be repeated. Turns out, I was so very wrong.

Lorcan’s son, Alister, has my blonde hair and blue eyes, a soft bundle of warmth with the hint of strength in his tiny grip. Maeve can barely contain herself, her green eyes sparkling as she watches her little brother with the same awe I feel. She whispers softly to him, already making plans to teach him all she knows.

Ethan has a daughter. A fierce little thing. He named her Rook, and I can only hope he named her after a chess piece and not the latest video game he’s been obsessing over. Still, I can’t help but smile as I watch him cradle her, his expression one of absolute reverence. The sight of him with Rook tucked against his chest, her little hand gripping his shirt, is almost too much for my heart.

When Nicolai found out he had a son, he went down like a rock. Griffin and Ethan had to step in, each of them bracing under his arms, practically dragging him up just so he could get a proper look at his boy. And, of course, before Nicolai could even hold him, Nina was already pushing her father aside to scoop up her new little brother.

She and Ashina had clearly put their heads together for this one. They named him Elijah, a choice that makes me laugh every time I hear it. It has my influence all over it; they’ve caught glimpses of that vampire TV show I’ve been binge-watching. And they were extra sneaky, slipping in “Niklaus” as his middle name. I can only imagine the tiny spark of trouble in their eyes as they finalized that choice. When Barrett found out, he grinned ear-to-ear and gave me a high five, completely impressed that the girls had pulled that one off.

Honestly, sometimes I even impress myself.

Year four brings our last set of triplets, and after that experience, I had my tubes tied, fried, and hopefully destroyed beyond recognition. Griffin’s daughter, Avery, was the firstborn, and from the moment she entered this world, she came out screaming. And, really, she hasn’t stopped. Avery’s lungs are as strong as her spirit; I swear she’s allergic to sleep. Compared to Deacon, who was a downright angel as a baby, Avery’s got a fire that keeps us all on our toes.

Baby number two, my little Delilah, is Barrett’s daughter. She’s a quiet, observant little thing, with her daddy’s dirty blonde hair and the most stunningly mismatched eyes. One eye is a deep, familiar blue like mine, and the other a soft, earthy hazel that mirrors her father’s. I believe she’s an omega, just like Barrett, and that thought brings a mixture of warmth and worry. Barrett’s already expressed his fears about her safety, the way female omegas often bear the worst of society’s ignorance and cruelty. It’s a fight my mates and I are taking to the shifter council, pushing for protections for omegas. This is a war I’m more than willing to wage, especially for her.

Then there’s our last little arrival—Conrad’s son, Liam. He was born growling, his eyes a fierce shade of hazel, so close to his father’s wolf it’s uncanny. Out of all my sons, Liam seems to be a true-born alpha. He’s got Conrad’s shade of golden-brown hair and came into this world holding the record as the biggest baby yet, weighing almost eight pounds.

Year four was unforgettable, especially with our trip to Yellowstone. Leaving Nicolai’s father in charge of the packs gave us the rare freedom to escape and just breathe for a while. Every night, we shifted, running wild through the vast acreage, our paws pounding against the earth as the crisp air filled our lungs. Above, the stars were endless, shining with a beauty that made the entire world feel timeless. Moments like these remind me of just how lucky I am. I’ve built a family of my own, surrounded by men who love me for every part of who I am.

One night, beneath those stars, I realized we needed to do something special. An impromptu hand-fasting ceremony for Conrad and Barrett. The idea felt so right, like it had been waiting for us there, among the trees and sky. We set it up on the spot, live-streaming it for our families back home. We watched as they joined hands, speaking their vows with the night as their witness, and I knew this was exactly where we were supposed to be. We celebrated under the open sky, laughter echoing through the park, our family more complete than ever.

Year five, and I’m finally in the right fur. The ember wolf, my true self, has emerged in all her brilliance, with a rust-colored pelt that shines in the sunlight, each strand alive with a fierce, fiery glow. I feel whole, grounded, like I’ve shed the weight of all the years of uncertainty and become exactly who I was meant to be. This fur, this form—it’s everything I didn’t know I was missing.

When I revealed myself to the other packs, there was fear at first. The ember wolf is a legend, an untamed force of nature, and I could see the wariness in their eyes. But Ethan and Griffin, standing beside me, were the first to speak, recounting the story of my creation. Ambrose joined them, his voice carrying a strength that calmed the unease in the room. They told of the war inside me, the relentless battles I fought in my mind. And when I added my voice, telling of what I went through with Griffin, and what I did to get him back—it seemed to connect, to make sense to them.

The last two original elders call me the calmest and most stable ember wolf they’ve ever encountered. I’m different, they say, because my wolf was created out of love. Ethan loved me so fiercely that he willed me to live, his strength becoming my own. His wolf is my foundation, the one constant in a world that tried so hard to break me. Together, we endured. And now, I am no longer just a wolf, but the ember wolf—steady, strong, and unafraid to blaze my own path.

Therapy is still ongoing for me, though now it’s down to once every two weeks, with check-ins in between. It’s become an anchor, a reminder that even the strongest need help. Too many beings refuse to get it, and it’s that stigma that leads so many of them to the edge. I know—I almost fell over it myself. If my mates hadn’t pushed me, hadn’t urged me to be honest with myself, I might not even be here.

They’re all still going to their own sessions, too. Griffin and Ethan are facing down the grief and guilt over their father’s death, feeling the weight of not being strong enough to save him. It’s a wound they’ve carried for too long, the loss woven into their lives.

Conrad... well, he’s untangling a lifetime of hiding who he is. His father had a way of twisting his reality, forcing him to hide how he felt about Barrett until they turned eighteen. From what I was told, Conrad’s father was already arranging a marriage for him, trying to shape him into something he wasn’t. Even in death, that influence lingered.

Then there’s my sweet, gentle Barrett. His wounds run deep—scars from his mother and stepfather that refuse to fade easily. His stepfather lost his wolf because of me, and not a single part of me feels sorry for him.

Nicolai’s struggles weigh heavily on my heart. Each pregnancy brings an additional layer of worry to him, intensifying with every step closer to delivery. He can’t shake the guilt over Nina’s mother, blaming himself for her death, as if he had somehow sentenced her to it by giving her his child. He insists I see the doctor almost immediately after each delivery, needing that reassurance that nothing’s wrong. His therapist says it’s going to be a long journey, one that may take years to unravel.

Then there’s Lorcan. I join him for his sessions too, though he still wrestles with feelings of unworthiness tied to his blindness. He doesn’t see the good he does, the way he balances us all. When tempers rise, he’s the calm voice of reason, gently pulling us back from the edge. And when Ethan’s at work, Lorcan’s my steady, quiet comfort, a giant teddy bear to curl into.

I see the healing he brings to our family even if he can’t, yet I know both Nicolai and Lorcan carry wounds that run deep.

We ended up tearing down the original alpha house, its old walls, and memories making way for something new and vibrant—a free daycare for the pack. It feels good to see it bustling with life and laughter. It’s a safe place where grandmothers and grandfathers volunteer their time to watch over the children, giving parents a chance to work, rest, or just have a break. Donations roll in constantly—snacks, food, toys—and we make sure they’re always welcome here.

The trading room has become one of my favorite spaces. Parents come in with clothes their little ones have outgrown, trading them for what’s needed. It’s a beautiful thing to see; no one is ever left without. We even set up a room specifically for car seats, strollers, and baby furniture. If someone needs something, it’s here for them, no questions asked. And it’s not just this daycare. Daycares and trading rooms like this have sprouted across all the packs under our protection, creating a network of support and stability that stretches far and wide.

The Shifter Grand Council plans to visit soon, wanting to see how this system works out for us. If they’re impressed, they might suggest implementing it across all packs and species. I can only hope they see the unity we’ve built here, the way we care for each other. This is what family and pack should mean, and maybe, just maybe, it will inspire them to help others the way we’ve learned to help each other.

“Journaling again, Gracie?” Ethan’s honeyed drawl cuts through the quiet, pulling me from the depths of my writing. I look up, smiling as he stands there in uniform, an easy strength in his stance that’s as reassuring as it is familiar.

“Yeah,” I say, closing my journal and resting it on my lap. “The kids should know how everything has come to be as it is. Hopefully, by the time they’re old enough to ask about the past, we’ll have been in a state of peace for a few good years.”

He nods, a slow smile touching his lips as he settles into a chair beside me, reaching into the cooler for an iced tea. “Sounds like a solid plan,” he says, his gaze warm as he takes a sip. “Did you work for Nicolai today?”

I shrug, my mind drifting back to the day. “We went into the main office in the city for a few hours. I had to meet with some of the other engineers.”

Ethan’s gaze lingers on me, and I can see the quiet pride in his eyes. In the past five years, Nicolai helped me make a dream of mine come true, paying for my schooling so I could finally become an engineer. Now, I get to do what I love, working from the comfort of our home most days, although the occasional office trip adds a bit of variety.

“I’m proud of you,” Ethan says softly, reaching over to take my hand. And in that small gesture, I feel the support that’s carried me through so many nights and days, the anchor I always return to.

We sit quietly, watching the kids running and laughing in the yard, their energy contagious even from where we’re sitting. Barrett is in the thick of it, laughing as he chases the boys around in playful circles. Lorcan’s on the swing, gently rocking back and forth, his son nestled snugly against his chest as he sings in a soft, lilting voice. The scene is idyllic, the sounds of the children’s laughter blending with Lorcan’s melody.

Nina and Ashina are off with Agnes, running errands in town, leaving the younger ones to create their own little world here. Our sons are already forming their own little pack, chasing each other, howling and tumbling like tiny, fierce wolves. Meanwhile, the girls have claimed the playhouses, filling them with their toys. Maeve and Valentina are busy in the sandpit with their construction toys, building little castles and digging trenches, while Delilah, ever shy, snuggles up close to her brother Dante, who makes her feel safe.

“Life is good,” Ethan murmurs, his voice full of quiet contentment. “The kids are all healthy and strong. We’re all doing good. Therapy is helping us in our own ways.” He leans over, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple, and I feel the warmth of his love settle around me like a soft blanket.

A laugh bubbles up, and I lean into his shoulder, wrapping my arm around his, giving it a squeeze. “To think this all started with my scraped knee,” I say, a smile spreading across my face at the memory. It’s almost surreal how far we’ve come.

“Best happy little accident ever.” Ethan’s lips press softly against the crown of my head, his words vibrating with love and pride.

We sit together in silence, watching our family, feeling the weight of each blessing we’ve been given. Tomorrow isn’t promised, but today is ours. We live in each moment, holding on to the hope of a bright, safe future for our children.

And if the worst ever comes … well, Ethan, Nicolai, and I will burn it all down and start over again.

The End.

On to the next adventure we head to a War College: Dragonis Academy Year 1