Chapter 0285

Her voice cracks, and I see the moment she surrenders to the grief. Tears streak down her face like silver trails in moonlight. "Even in death, he protected me. I know he's watching over us all today, guarding this pack and family he cherished so deeply." She presses a trembling hand to her chest. "Though he's no longer with us, he'll never leave our hearts. I'm forever grateful to have known such an extraordinary man—one who became the father I never had."

As she steps down from the podium, Evelyn rises to meet her. They collapse into each other's arms, their shared sorrow for the loss of a father, a friend, their Guardian bond, pouring out in wrenching sobs.

We stay for the memorial dinner. Seraphina spends hours talking with Evelyn, recounting her time with Gregory during his final moments. The conversation visibly eases some of Evelyn's anguish, and I notice Adrian's shoulders relax slightly.

Later that evening, I pull Adrian aside near the fireplace. "How are you holding up?"

We keep our mates in view—neither of us willing to let them out of our sight for long.

"Better after today," he admits, rubbing his jaw. "Seeing her with Seraphina helped. You and your mate understand parental loss better than I do."

He sinks onto a bench, dragging his hands through his hair. "We still don't know how her power surge affected the baby. Was the near-miscarriage from her grief or her magic?" His voice drops to a raw whisper. "I can't lose them, Sebastian."

I grip his shoulder. "You won't. Our mates have proven they're stronger than we ever imagined. They're warriors. As for our children..." I shrug. "We're both flying blind. But those women?" I nod toward where they sit, heads bent together. "They're the fiercest wolves I've ever known."

Adrian huffs a laugh, watching them. "Fair warning—if I have a daughter and you have a son, keep him away from my girl."

"Likewise. And we both know I'm far more intimidating than you."

He scoffs. "Debatable."

We lapse into comfortable silence, just watching them. "Hard to believe we'll both be fathers in a few months."

"Terrifying. Amazing."

"Perfect," I agree.

That night, after showing Seraphina exactly how much I adore her—how her pleasure undoes me, how her cries of my name ignite my blood—I curl around her in bed. My lips brush her crown, breathing in her scent of wild berries and cedar, now deepened with something richer, wilder.

After talking to Adrian, I'm certain of the change in her fragrance. Evelyn carries the sweetness of vanilla. But my mate? She smells like the heart of the forest—like me. Our child will be a son.

"We never discussed if you wanted pups," I murmur. She tilts her face up, and I kiss the tip of her nose. "Bit late now, not that I'm complaining. But we probably should've talked about it."

She props herself on one elbow, her palm warm against my chest. "Sebastian Blackstone," she says, eyes gleaming, "I'd happily fill every room in this packhouse with proof of our love."

Her answer wrecks me. In one motion, I pin her beneath me and show her exactly how perfectly she's ruined me for anyone else.