Power rolled off my son in waves, each pulse echoing through my Alpha senses like distant thunder. The birthing room—our bedroom transformed by candlelight and ancient magic—still hummed with the energy of his arrival, air thick with the scent of sage and supernatural afterbirth. Thunder, my wolf, hadn't stopped rumbling since the moment Eron took his first breath, our shared pride vibrating through my bones like a struck bell.
Alexis lay propped against my chest in our bed, sweat-dampened hair curling against my neck as she cradled our son. Her scent—wild honey and summer storms—mixed with Eron's new-baby smell in a way that made Thunder whine with primal satisfaction. Our son's tiny fists waved in the air, trailing stardust as he rooted against her chest with determined concentration,
