Granddaddy Brax
1922 Words
Wrenna POV
Killian and Callie gaped at them.
“So… you two are pretending to be mated now?” Killian asked.
“I guess,” Wrenna said with a shrug. “We haven’t exactly figured out the details.”
“Are you going to consume the bond?” Killian wiggled his brows.
Heat crawled up Wrenna’s neck. Damian cleared his throat, his ears scarlet.
“Of course not,” Callie snapped, swatting Killian’s arm. “It’s pretend, genius.”
“I know,” he smirked, “but did you see their faces? Worth it.”
“You know what? I’m tired. Out. Both of you.” Wrenna waved toward the door.
“Oooh, hear that, K? The lovebirds want to be alone,” Callie teased, dragging him out.
“Careful,” Killian laughed, “they might start while we’re still in the room.”
The door clicked shut. Silence.
“Well, that was awkward,” Damian muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah.” Wrenna flopped onto the bed. “But they’re right. We need rules. Sleeping arrangements. Bathroom schedules.”
Damian nodded quickly. “Right. You shower first. I’ll make up the couch.”
Her head shot up. “The couch?”
“Of course,” he said, all earnest Gamma. “I’m not about to crawl into bed with you.”
It’s not like they hadn’t shared a bed before. They’d been sleeping together since they’d been pups, but now Wrenna supposed things were different. She nodded and headed straight to the bathroom, enjoying as the water loosened the knots in her shoulders.
“I’m done,” she smiled, a towel wrapped around her head, clad in her dressing gown and slippers.
“Okay, I’ll go,” he shut the door behind him. Wrenna let out the breath she’d been holding. They’d been friends for years, why did this feel so awkward?
Damian stepped out, towel slung low on his hips, droplets sliding down over his abs. Wrenna’s throat went dry. Oh, Goddess. Hormones. It’s just hormones.
“Sorry,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t think about clothes—I’m used walking around like this in my room.”
“It’s fine,” she croaked, voice higher than normal. Too high.
Had Damian always been this hot? The guilt hit a second later. Stop it. This is Damian. Your Gamma. Your friend. Not—
“Are you okay?” Damian asked, still staring at her.
“Fine. I just… I need to sleep.” She almost raced to the bed, quickly getting under the sheets and turning off the light.
“Goodnight, Wren,” Damian whispered.
Wrenna groaned as she woke up for the tenth time that night. The source? The couch groaning under Damian’s constant shifting, not to mention his sighing.
She threw back her covers, stomping into the sitting room of her suit.
“Will you just get in the damn bed?!” she snapped, stabbing a finger toward her room.
Damian sat up, blinking at her like she’d lost her mind. “What?!”
“You’re sighing, you’re turning, and the couch is squeaking like it’s being murdered. I get it—the thing’s too small. Get in the bed. Now. We’ll build a pillow fort if it makes you feel better, but I need sleep.”
He hesitated, then dragged a hand down his face. “This is insane.”
“So is you keeping me awake.”
Grumbling under his breath, Damian pushed off the couch and followed her.
When he slid into the other side of the bed, carefully keeping to his pillow wall, Wrenna closed her eyes—sleep finally claiming her.
--
“He asked about you, you know…” Callie softly spoke, pushing another spoon full of ice-cream into her mouth. A pain sliced through Wrenna’s heart at the confession. She hated him, yes, but a small part of her still held out some hope.
It was silly, but he was the father of her pup after all.
“What did you say?” She hesitantly asked.
“I told him to f**k off, of course.” Callie snorted. They both lay on her bed on their stomach’s watching some sappy romcom while the guys had headed to Killian’s room to play videogames.
“Good.” Wrenna said, nodding.
Over the next few weeks, thoughts of Brad became less and less. Wrenna focused on training with the warriors as she’d always done, attending Alpha lessons with her father while Veronica gave her Luna lessons.
“Wrenna… is everything okay between you and Damian?” he asked, one day, while she was rubbing a hand over her stomach. She was about three months pregnant now, and the doctor didn’t think she would make it to the normal six months—it wasn’t uncommon since she was an Alpha, and so was the baby’s father, not that anyone knew that.
“Why?” she asked, suddenly on guard.
“It’s just that… you two aren’t really mate-y.” Brax hesitantly said.
“Mate-y? Is that even a word?” she let out a bark of unnerved laughter. s**t… they weren’t really mate-y, were they?
“It’s just that normally, when one meets their mate—”
“Let me stop you there. Not everyone is all PDA like you and mom,” she said, making a face.
“Hey, are you ready to go?” Damian asked, knocking on the door. Her lessons for the day were over, and he always came to pick her up. She knew this was the moment to make a point.
She stood and smiled. “Yes, babe.”
Damian froze at the nickname, his eyes darting toward Brax like a cornered wolf. Wrenna rose onto her toes and leaned in. Stand still, she ordered through the link as he tried to pull back.
His jaw locked, and she brushed the quickest peck against his lips. Sweet. Innocent. Just enough for Brax to see.
When she pulled back, Damian exhaled like he’d just survived an assassination attempt.
Brax studied them for a long, heavy beat… then gave a small grunt, almost content.
“All right. That’s better. Now—what about ‘Paw Paw’?” His tone softened, almost hopeful. “For when the pup comes.”
“Nope.” She deadpanned.
--
Over the next four weeks, Wrenna’s belly grew rapidly.
“The pup is doing fantastic,” Dr. Brenner beamed. “Would you like to know the gender?”
The door to the room burst open, revealing a panting Damian. “I’m so sorry I’m late, , what did I miss?”
“Nothing,” Wrenna smiled, “everything is fine. The doctor was just asking if we’d like to know the baby’s gender.”
“Do we?” Damian asked hesitantly. Wrenna knew what he was thinking. It wasn’t his pup, they both knew it, but still, somehow through there new formed fake bond, it was starting to feel that way.
“You decide,” she suggested.
“Then yes, we’d like to know.”
Dr. Brenner smiled, but before she could announce the gender, Wrenna gasped.
“Oh my Goddess,”
“What’s wrong?” Damian’s panicked voice sounded, as he looked at her with alarm.
“The baby… it just kicked,” her eyes were wide with wonder. A front centered placenta had been preventing her from feeling her baby early on.
“C—Can I feel?” Damian asked, his eyes equally wide. Wrenna grabbed his hand and pushed it against her belly. Tears brimmed Damian’s eyes when the first kick landed. Wrenna laughed softly, blinking back her own. For a moment, it was just them — two friends marveling at the tiny life growing inside her.
“He’s strong,” Damian whispered. “You’re in for trouble if he’s anything like Brad.”
Wrenna snorted, swatting his shoulder, but her chest ached all the same. It should’ve been Brad’s hand here. Brad’s joy. Brad’s tears.
“Looks like you have a strong baby…boy,” Dr. Brenner beamed.
“A boy?” Damian asked in amazement.
Dr. Brenner said something else, but Wrenna wasn’t listening, her mind drifted to Brad…and their pup. Would he look like him? Goddess, she hoped not. It would make it even more painful.
What about Gramps? Brax’s voice echoed in her mind.
Wrenna rolled her eyes. You’re more like a Grumps. His answering huff was so loud through the link she had to bite her lip not to laugh. Then the connection cut off, abrupt as always when he was secretly sulking.
--
Wrenna shifted against the headboard, her laptop warm on her thighs as the professor droned on about inter-pack trade disputes. Online classes had seemed like a relief at first, but now she missed the sparring, the noise, the distraction. At least Killian and Callie were suffering through theirs in the next room — it made it feel less like she’d abandoned the Academy and more like they were all in this together.
“Hey,” Damian’s voice came low as he nudged her leg with his knee. “Scoot back a little.”
She arched a brow but shuffled over, laptop sliding closer to her stomach. He climbed in behind her, long legs bracketing hers, and set his warm palms on her shoulders. With gentle pressure, he started kneading at the knots in her back.
“Damian…” she warned, though her eyes fluttered shut at the first press of his thumbs.
“You’ve been hunched over this thing for hours,” he murmured. “You’re growing a whole person, Wren. Let me help.”
To anyone else, it would’ve looked mate-like. Sweet. Intimate. The kind of picture the Council wanted to see. But to Wrenna, it was just Damian being Damian — infuriatingly good, infuriatingly kind.
Her wolf purred at the attention, but her mind wandered somewhere else entirely. To cedar and smoke. To stormy eyes she swore she hated. To the man who hadn’t sent a single message in months.
She blinked back to her screen when the professor called her name. “I’m fine,” she muttered, though her voice caught.
Damian hummed in acknowledgment, his hands steady on her shoulders. “You don’t have to be.”
Before she could answer, her father’s voice slid through the link, warm but tentative. What about Granddaddy?
Wrenna almost snorted out loud. She bit down on her lip, trying to keep her expression neutral with Damian so close. That one’s… not terrible, she admitted reluctantly.
She could feel his satisfaction hum across the bond, like a wolf wagging its tail. Finally.
Wrenna rolled her eyes, but her chest softened.
Granddaddy Brax.
--
Weeks slipped by. Her belly grew, Damian had been a steady force at her side — slipping her extra food, easing her cravings, brushing off Council suspicion with polite smiles and cheek kisses. To the world, they looked like mates. To her, it was survival. But every quiet moment, every still night, her thoughts drifted back to Brad. To the silence. To the questions that burned louder with every day he stayed away.
Until one night, in the middle of a recorded lecture on her laptop, a sharp cramp stole her breath. She gasped, clutching at her stomach — and then felt the unmistakable warmth spreading down her legs.
“Damian,” she whispered, wide-eyed, voice trembling. “My water just broke.”
- Writer
