Page 41 of Stolen By the Alpha Hunter (Moonbound Mates #3)

JAVI

I guess our love was too big to fit in one tiny package…because we got two.

Morning breaks on a crisp fall morning, the leaves changing and the grass going grey and brittle as November rolls in. It’s my first time outside in about thirty-six hours, and I give myself a second to breathe in the scent of approaching winter.

It feels strange that this would be the world our babies our born into—because I’ll always associate Peaches with spring. She’s flowers blooming, fruit on the vine, the promise of something better than the lot I was given in life.

I’ve been away from her side for all of five minutes and I already miss her.

Fuck…she’s got me wrapped around her little finger.

And it’s only a matter of time before our girls do too.

Fresh air can wait.

I turn around and walk back into the den, only a few people up and around as they head off for kitchen duty or to work in the garden.

I brush past a couple people I know, getting whispered words of congratulation, and then I see Colt coming around the corner with his little girl strapped to his chest in a sling.

He shoots me a wide grin and waves, and I take his hand when he extends it for a shake.

“You look like hell,” he says.

“Spoken like a man who knows what it’s like,” I say. “And you only had one .”

“Hey, it’s not a competition,” Colt scoffs, raising his hands. “Plus, Maggie wants more kids so…I might have you beat soon.”

“Didn’t you just say it’s not a competition?” I laugh. “Besides…I think we’re gonna hold off on more for a while. We need time to get to know each other.”

“It’s gonna be easier than you think,” Colt says. “Also harder. But focus on the easy part.”

“Wow, that was encouraging,” I say.

Colt claps his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got this, man. Oh and don’t freak out, but Peaches has company.”

I sigh, but it’s more out of exhaustion than annoyance. She always has company, and she needs to rest.

“Of course she does,” I chuckle.

I keep heading down the hall, hearing hushed voices as I get close to our room. The door is cracked open, and I push it open gently and look in.

I’ll never get tired of looking at her.

Peaches sits in our nest, surrounded by blankets and friends, our babies held in each arm.

Maggie perches on the edge of the bed and talks softly with my mate, while Charlotte and Elijah unpack a bag of supplies.

They’re one-and-done, and they’ve offered all of their daughter’s old hand-me-downs to help us get started.

Peaches looks from Maggie to me as I stand in the doorway, crossing my arms and watching with a satisfied smile.

She returns the expression, her eyes bright even with the dark circles under them from a long and hard delivery.

Suyin has been in and out all morning, but I guess she finally decided that Peaches was good to go.

And we’ve got all these people around—supporting us, lifting us up.

It’s a community…a family.

I’m so damn grateful for them.

I walk inside and get smiles from everyone, tired as they are.

Maggie has been here all night, and Charlotte and Elijah woke up early to join us when they got the news.

I’m sure we’ll get visits from everyone else soon, that our room is going to turn into a revolving door for excited family.

I hope we get at least a second to ourselves; Peaches needs rest, and I’ll stand guard outside the door if I have to?—

“We should leave you two alone for a bit,” Charlotte says. “Just let us know if you need anything, okay?”

Elijah looks up at me with a wry smile. “I trust you know how to unpack a bag…?”

“Yeah, I know how,” I snort.

They filter out of the room, Maggie shooting me a smile as she shuts the door behind her with a soft thud. I walk over to sit on the bed, reaching out to rest my hand on Peaches’ thigh underneath the blankets.

She’s the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen.

Her red hair is wild and messy, curls in a copper halo around her head.

Her face is flushed, freckles dark over her rosy cheeks, her brown eyes warm and inviting, her lips full and red.

She’s gained weight over the course of her pregnancy, emphasizing every one of her curves, swelling at the hips and breasts.

I want to touch her.

She just gave birth and I’m already aching for her.

“I’ve been thinking about names,” she says, looking down at the babies.

They’re a perfect combination of the two of us—one of the girls with dark auburn hair, green eyes, and my complexion; the other with black hair, brown eyes, and Peaches’ pale skin.

It blows my mind that my whole world is right here in this bed… and I don’t even know their names yet.

“You get to choose,” I ask. “You’re good at names.”

She smiles.

“So…of course, one of them has to be Georgia,” she says, then brushes a soft kiss against the downy hair of the brunette twin. “I’m getting Georgia from our little raven-haired beauty.”

My heart swells until I’m afraid it’ll burst.

“Completely agree,” I say. It’s the name we already decided on—her mother’s real name , the woman who raised Peaches to be strong under even the worst circumstances. “But what about our other twin?”

She smiles. “Isabela,” she says. “After your mom’s hometown in Puerto Rico. It’s a beautiful name…”

I squeeze her thigh, emotions racing through me. I can’t look at her for a second, and I have to avert my eyes to the floor.

“Javi?” she whispers.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe. “I just…”

I reach up to rub my eyes and find them wet with tears.

I can’t even remember the last time I cried—not since I was a child, I think—and I feel a strange sense of shame as I hide my face from Peaches.

It just makes things worse, and I’m shocked when my shoulders shake and a sob wrenches itself free.

I’m so tired.

I’m so happy.

I can’t believe this is my life .

“Javi,” she says again, concern strangling her voice.

“Look at me, please…I’m worried.”

I finally get up the courage to meet her eyes and my gaze hovers over the girls.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s been an emotional day.”

She laughs softly, her own eyes tearing up. “You know you apologize an awful lot. You should stop that.”

I reach up to touch her face and she leans into my palm.

“For you?” I say. “Anything.”

She presses a kiss to my palm. The babies stir, but they don’t wake—they just nestle closer to their mom, little mouths open and eyes closed as they dream.

“You like the name?” she asks.

“I love it,” I say. “And I love you…and I love that you remembered that about my mom.”

“I’ve been writing down your stories,” she says. “You’ve had quite the life. It’s worth recording.”

It almost makes me start weeping again.

“I have so many more to tell you,” I say. “Would you like to hear one now?”

She nods. “But maybe tone it down for the girls.”

I huff out a laugh.

“I can do that,” I say.

I consider what I’ll tell, sifting through all the strange things I’ve been through. What I settle on is my favorite story of all—a story about two people who fate tossed together in a hurricane, a woman who never let her light go out, and a man with enough darkness for the two of them.

“Once upon a time,” I start, “there was a princess and a pirate.”

And the story begins again.

THE END