Valencia!

Twelve

With a lingering sense of bittersweet finality, Valencia watched her parents and Griffin load the last of their things into the car that morning. Their departure was quiet but warm. Hugs, reassurances, and one last round of advice from her mother before they drove off. Duty called. Her father had council meetings, her mother had clinic responsibilities, and Griffin had resumed training under the Beta command. Their lives were too intricately tied to the pack’s rhythm to remain away for long.

Still, she didn’t feel abandoned. Quite the opposite. Her mother had spent the last two days stocking the nursery nook in Valencia’s room with more baby supplies than necessary for someone barely into her first trimester. They’d folded tiny onesies together, arranged soothing creams and lotions on the shelves, and fluffed the tiny woodland-animal-themed blankets with a shared smile.

The unspoken truth about the baby’s parentage hung in the air like a secret barely contained. Everyone had agreed to keep Maximus’s name out of it . . . for now. It was safer that way. No one trusted Terra to react rationally if she caught even a whisper of it. She-wolves did not share power, nor did they forgive easily.

Griffin had struggled with the decision most. The weight of deception, especially against his future Alpha, sat heavy on his shoulders. But even he had conceded in the end, protecting Valencia and the pup came first.

Her father had left his credit card on the kitchen counter, along with a handwritten note that simply read, “For anything. Don’t ask. Just use it. Focus on school, not work.” She had stared at it for a long time before tucking it into her wallet.

And though her parents had left, she wasn’t alone. Mrs. Sydney, Ty’s mother, had stayed behind to help her get settled. She had quietly assumed the role of co-caretaker, stepping in with an ease that made Valencia’s heart ache with gratitude.

Mrs. Sydney bustled about the kitchen now, humming as she chopped vegetables for lunch, the smell of garlic and onions already filling the air. “You need to eat, darling. That baby of yours is hungry,” she called over her shoulder.

Valencia smiled faintly from her seat at the kitchen table, one hand resting protectively over her tiny stomach. “He or she is going to be very spoiled,” she murmured. Mrs. Sydney glanced back with a wink. “As all good babies should be.”

It was strange, this new chapter of her life. Not quite what she had imagined, but in some ways, it was softer, more grounded. There was no denying the ache she still felt over Maximus, but the hurt no longer consumed her. Not entirely. Now there was a different kind of fire guiding her: one born of fierce determination and quiet love for the life growing inside her.

A knock sounded at the front door, breaking her thoughts. “I’ll get it,” she said, standing slowly. On the porch stood Tylon, his bag slung over one shoulder, groceries in one hand and his other hand holding a small bouquet of wildflowers. His warm eyes lit up when he saw her. “Thought you could use a little pick-me-up,” he said, holding out the flowers.

Valencia blinked back the sudden rush of emotion as she took the flowers. “You’re the best,” she whispered, voice cracking. Ty stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him. “We’ve got you, Valen,” he said firmly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “No matter what comes next.” And for the first time in what felt like forever, Valencia truly believed it.

As she arranged the flowers in a glass jar, the gentle rhythm of the water pouring from the faucet transported her somewhere else. Somewhere warmer. Somewhere harder to forget. The memory crept in before she could stop it.

—Three months earlier—

The moonlight filtered through the tall windows, casting silver shadows over there bodies. Maximus lay next to her, his broad frame providing warmth and comfort. Sweat still clung to the tips of his light hair from the act they had finished just moments ago.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Valencia had whispered, though she made no move to leave nor did she want to. “What do you mean . . . this is exactly where you should be, now and forever.” He said, voice low but rough with urgency. His hand tracing formless shapes over her skin, leaving tingles of pleasure in its wake.

“This is the beginning of something beautiful Valen. Something ancient given to us from the goddess, that we alone get to share. A world of our own . . . just you and me.” She leaned into him not fully understanding, but the thought of her feeling this way forever was tantalizing.

She wanted to believe that what they had was real, and for those few hours they were. She lived it, felt it and breathed him in as if he was all she would ever need. All the while knowing the world outside was cruel. But still she reached for him, allowed herself to be deceived, her hands slipping into his, grounding them both.

“I don’t know what this is,” she said, her voice trembling, “but it doesn’t feel wrong.” Maximus pulled her closer until their foreheads touched. “That’s because it’s not.” His hands settled over her hips, protective, reverent. “If I could claim you here and now, I would,” he murmured. “I know you don’t understand but I love you . . .”

“You love me?” Valencia was surprised to hear the words so suddenly. Is that what this was . . . Love . . . she pondered. Maximus nodded as if reading her thoughts. They laid like that for a long time, wrapped in silence. It wasn’t just desire that lingered between them . . . it was something deeper. Something sacred.

And then, he kissed her. Not with lust, but with aching devotion. As if he was memorizing her. As if he knew it might be the last time, reigniting the fire that was burning between them.

—Present—

Valencia blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. The flowers in the jar blurred in front of her. That night had been the beginning . . . and the end. Everything that had followed, including the tiny heartbeat now fluttering inside her, had been born from that moment.

“Valen?” Ty’s voice floated in from the living room. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Coming,” she called. The past would always be a part of her. But the future, her future, was what mattered now.