Chapter 2: Pups and Pride
1111 Words
Tristan wasn’t scared of blood, but this was different.
He sat outside the healer’s lodge, hands clenched into fists, foot tapping the wooden floor in a rhythm that didn’t match his heartbeat. Inside, Rae screamed — sharp, agonizing bursts that made his wolf twitch beneath his skin. He wanted to go to her, tear through the walls, carry her out of there and take away every ounce of pain.
Instead, he sat.
He didn’t pace. Didn’t whimper. Didn’t cry.
He just waited — until he couldn’t anymore.
Then a cry broke through the silence. One… then two.
The door opened and Rae’s mother emerged, face slick with sweat and relief. “Twins,” she breathed, smiling despite the exhaustion in her bones. “A girl and a boy.”
Tristan stood, but his knees nearly buckled. Twins? They hadn’t even… He hadn't known that was possible. His heart kicked in his chest like it was trying to escape.
When he entered the room, everything stilled. The lodge was bathed in a warm, golden light. Rae looked drained but radiant, her arms cradling two swaddled bundles so tiny they didn’t look real.
She smiled at him, soft and real. “Come meet them.”
He hesitated. He had no idea how to hold a baby, let alone two. He wasn’t ready for any of this.
But then she offered him the girl, and instinct took over.
She fit into his arms like she belonged there. Small, warm, with soft tufts of dark hair and cheeks like rose petals. Her little nose wrinkled, her mouth yawned, and then… she smiled.
Or maybe she didn’t. Maybe it was just gas. But Tristan was done for.
“Hi,” he whispered. “I’m your dad.”
They named her Lyra — after Rae’s grandmother, who’d died in a rogue attack before Rae was born. Rae insisted the name would protect her, and Tristan didn’t argue. The boy they called Kalen, after nothing in particular. He just liked how strong it sounded.
The first few nights were brutal. Sleep came in broken moments, interrupted by cries, feeding, changing, and more cries. Rae’s mother stayed with them for a while, teaching them how to swaddle, bathe, and calm two pups at once.
But Tristan didn’t mind the chaos. When the world went quiet — when Rae fell asleep on his shoulder and both babies were curled against his chest — he felt something he hadn’t expected: peace.
Real peace.
He still slipped away sometimes. Ran in the woods under the moonlight. Met up with Jace or Cass to let off steam. But it wasn’t the same. The wild inside him had softened. It still howled, but now it howled for something worth coming home to.
His father was harder to read.
Alpha Garrett hadn’t said much when the pups were born. He hadn’t visited the lodge. Hadn’t even sent word until three days later. When he did finally show up, it was unannounced — as if Tristan needed reminding that nothing in his life belonged solely to him.
He stepped into the den without knocking and stared at the pups sleeping in a basket by the hearth.
“Twins,” Garrett said, his voice unreadable. “Didn’t expect that.”
Tristan didn’t answer right away. Rae was resting, and the pups were finally quiet.
“I didn’t either,” he admitted.
Garrett walked over to Lyra and crouched beside her. He studied her tiny face like he was searching for signs of strength or weakness. Then he did the same with Kalen.
“They’re healthy,” he said. “That’s what matters.”
Tristan swallowed. “You mad?”
Garrett stood. “Disappointed.”
Of course.
“But I’ve always been disappointed in you, so this doesn’t change much.”
Tristan’s fists clenched, but his father didn’t stop.
“You’re reckless. Emotional. You’ve never cared about your duty. And yet…” He looked at the pups again, his expression softening in a way Tristan had rarely seen. “You’ve given me something worth watching grow.”
Tristan blinked.
His father almost smiled. “It’s strange. I don’t trust you. But I trust that they’ll be something.”
Tristan didn’t know what to say to that. Was it an insult? A compliment? Both?
Before he could ask, Garrett turned to leave. “Your birthday’s in three weeks. Make sure the pups are blessed by then. If Rae’s your mate, it’ll be the first official step toward claiming her.”
And just like that, he was gone.
They talked about it that night.
Tristan and Rae lay on the bed, pups between them, their fingers loosely linked.
“You think I’ll really be your mate?” she asked softly.
“I already know you are,” he said.
She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It doesn’t always work that way. You’ve heard the stories.”
“I don’t care about stories.”
“But what if I’m not your mate, Tristan? What if someone else is?”
He looked at her — the girl he’d run with, bled for, kissed under too many moons to count. The mother of his children. The one who never flinched when he got too wild, who never tried to make him less.
“You are,” he whispered.
Her smile returned, more sure this time. “I hope so.”
The days passed in a blur of feedings, howls, and the chaos of young parenthood. Rae got stronger. Tristan started training again with Micah, who didn’t say much about the pups but ruffled Kalen’s hair every time he saw him.
Micah was still the golden boy — future Alpha, the one who always had the right answers, the right words. But he didn’t act like a threat. He just kept an eye on Tristan. A steady, quiet presence.
Sometimes, Tristan wondered if Micah saw more than he let on.
But it didn’t matter. Not yet.
What mattered was this: his 18th birthday was almost here. And with it, the bond.
If Rae was his true mate, the connection would snap into place like lightning in his blood. He’d be able to feel her thoughts, her moods. Their wolves would sync. The pack would recognize it instantly.
If she wasn’t… he didn’t want to think about that.
Neither did she.
They spent the last few nights before the full moon curled around the pups, whispering about the future. They talked about houses, ranks, training Lyra to fight and teaching Kalen to shift early. They dreamed in bold, reckless color.
Because neither of them could imagine anything less than forever.
- Writer
