If there was any blessing involved with being pregnant again, it lay in the mentality that Dylan knew what he was dealing with. Arden hadn’t had much interest in his pregnancy the first time around so he’d had to learn everything on his own; as it turned out, learning wasn’t the same thing as experiencing. Nothing he read during that first pregnancy, not from the internet or directly from a doctor’s office pamphlet, could have ever prepared him for the gradual onslaught of symptoms and discomforts that stacked up on top of each other.

The fact that he was a shapeshifter and a man, made things that much harder. Shapeshifter pregnancies were shorter, but the child emerged just as developed as a human baby, which meant the intensity of the pregnancy was ramped up. Everything happening faster meant the body needed much more, much sooner.

And he was a man, without the proper equipment. In this case, it wasn’t only the baby that needed to develop but also himself.

His suspicions, which he confirmed only the morning before informing Ryan of them, came about one month into the pregnancy. At that point he wasn’t really feeling much different, though he was acutely aware of a new presence forming alongside his own.

As time went on and his daily routine became more normal, what with Hunter going to school and all, Dylan returned to work. His employees were more than happy to see him, and threw a welcome-back party a few days later.

Standing there in front of one of the cars they were working on, Dylan had to blink away tears. He sometimes forgot that he was impacting the lives of other people around him, just by simply existing. It was easy to forget that when he could be so wrapped up in himself and his own life.

“Cut the cake, boss!”

Dylan blinked away more tears and found a rather large knife being pressed into his hand. It resembled a machete more than anything else, with an enormous curved blade. Feeling absurdly like he was on a jungle expedition, Dylan approached the hood of the car that had been chosen to act as a table for the celebration. A very pink and girly tablecloth covered the hood, while confetti covered the floor of the workspace. Streamers had been hung from every available vantage point—the roof, the car antennae, and hydraulic equipment—creating a forest of pastels. The cake on the hood of the makeshift table was clearly a bakery leftover, a nondescript round pastry covered with a layer of white icing. There were no embellishments, not even any writing on the top.

These men were mechanics, after all. Good men, but a little dense when it came to presents, relying on their partners to explicitly say what they wanted for Christmas or their birthday. They were the kind of men who would rely on all the advertisements and reminders for Valentine’s Day, and then still have to make a last-minute trip to the store. Thoughtfulness was a chore, not a basic skill.

Even so, they had banded together to prepare this for him and he was thankful. The cake wasn’t even that bad.

It was only after the party, after he had thanked them all and then demanded that someone sweep the goddamn floor before another customer could come in, that the tears finally managed to escape his tight grasp on them. By that point he was safely inside his office, where no one could judge him.

Rubbing his face against his hands, sniffling, Dylan had to admit that this wasn’t normal behavior for him. It might have been soon after Hunter was returned to him, but he thought that he’d leveled out since then, less prone to these outbursts. When life continued as normal for so long, a man couldn’t help but to become normal again too. This level of emotional distress went over the limit, and so he recognized it as a change in hormones, part of the pregnancy experiences he had gone through before.

As days turned to weeks and the weather warmed up considerably, brimming with new life, so too did the new life inside Dylan continue to bloom. The changes came fast and furiously, overtaking him without warning. One day he would be sad and the next, he was over the moon. Toast for breakfast? Amazing. Hunter’s cartoons were suddenly hilarious and brilliant, deserving of an award. And if Ryan was around for dinner and made a small joke, it was liable to send Dylan spiraling off into a storm of laughter that kept recurring throughout the night.

The alpha could only stare at him during those times and that was even funnier. “Your eyes are so big!” became Dylan’s mantra on more than one occasion, and even this was funny because it reminded him of the story of Little Red Riding Hood.

But then the morning after such a jovial night might see him fucking furious for absolutely no reason, leading everyone to orbit him like planetary bodies: always nearby but never crossing paths.

And then he would find himself normal again.

He hadn’t had many cravings when he was pregnant with Hunter, and that was just about the only new thing which he had no experience with. Every minute of every day became an opportunity to eat, and he couldn’t have cared less what it was as long as it was sweet. Even foods that weren’t meant to be sweet now received proper treatment so that they qualified. Sugar packets became his best friend, and there was no telling how many bottles of syrup they went through by the time the baby was ready to emerge into the world.

Hunter was very much on board with how often his father suddenly wanted pancakes.

And there were other discomforts, all of them familiar. His plumbing was bound to cause him trouble at any moment, in a variety of ways, and stretch marks and varicose veins were never fun. His feet swelled and the circulation in his hands became poor and he was tired all the time.

But he was happy, no matter what else went on. Even when he was angry, he was happy. Everything was finally on its way to being perfect because the only thing that was changing faster than his body was the situation with Ryan.

More often than not, Ryan came over for dinner. They might eat in or they would occasionally head out to a restaurant, but Ryan was usually present no matter what. And he didn’t just dine and dash, either. He stuck around for hours, either reading or examining some of his work papers, or simply enjoying their company. At least, Dylan hoped that Ryan was enjoying their company. That was really all he wanted, all he ever would want from this life of his.

But it wasn’t just dinner when they spent time together. They met up for lunch more often now, and their trips to the park grew more and more frequent as the weather grew nicer. There were no more incidents with the media, at least not that Dylan knew about. And he was glad. They were all getting along much better than he ever would have dared to hope for, and he didn’t want to ruin that.

A few of Ryan’s things found their way into a drawer at Dylan’s home. It was perhaps that more than anything else that signaled to them that things were going somewhere and doing it at a rather chipper pace. But, why wouldn’t it? Supposedly they were meant for each other.

Supposedly.

Dylan would have given anything to return to the well, to be able to confirm that the vague silhouette of a man he’d glimpsed was Ryan. There just wasn’t time for it. Often, the thought weighed on him so heavy that he thought he might go crazy from it. Ryan often gave him sideways glances, so he had clearly picked up on these frequent moods.

“Hey,” Ryan said one Friday evening when they were both alone in the living room.

Dylan glanced at him. “Hi?”

“We should go on a date. A real date. Just you and me.”

Excitement flowed through Dylan like a breaking dam before he could get ahold of himself. He wasn’t a teen boy who could just go off anywhere at the drop of a hat. “What about Hunter? I don’t know if I’d be okay with leaving him.”

Ryan patted his knee soothingly. “I know you’d be worried but I hear that a lot of pups are going to go to this Stories In The Park thing next Saturday. I could ask around, see if someone wouldn’t mind letting Hunter tag along.”

Dylan hesitated, and it wasn’t because he thought the idea was bad. In fact, it was a damn good one. They went to that same event last year, and Hunter loved playing the games and listening to the stories being read by various children’s book authors. And it was very likely that someone would be more than willing to have Hunter come along. Packs in the city tended not to be as close as those composed of purely rural wolves, but they were still connected by a strong bond and would come together in times of need.

“Come on,” Ryan said. His eyes were very soft. “I love being with Hunter, but I want time to just connect with you, like the old days.”

The old days, when everything was simpler. Who could refuse that offer? Not him.

“Okay,” he agreed. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Even though he wasn’t an excitable teen, he was still anticipating their night out so much that he could barely sleep the night before. The arrangements went flawlessly. A group of experienced mothers happily welcomed Hunter into their plans, especially since he was friends with several of their pups. Reservations were made for 6 p.m. at Cafe Europa, a charming restaurant with enough flair on the interior to make up for the fact that its surrounding area wasn’t all that ideal.

They arrived separately, somewhat ruining the high school date illusion, but that small disappointment was more than made up for Dylan when he saw Ryan waiting for him by the front door. He looked impossibly handsome, as if he emerged straight from a fashion magazine. His vest was crisp, the lines of his outfit sharply accenting his broad frame.

Dylan went to him and took his hand. Ryan leaned down and grazed their lips together, briskly, sweetly. “You look great,” he purred.

“Good enough to eat?” he asked, heart fluttering. It was difficult to dress well when you were trying to hide a baby bump but he had been hoping that he managed it. From the way Ryan eyed him like a fine steak, he figured he’d done well enough.

“Maybe for dessert,” Ryan replied. He offered his arm. Seams strained when he moved, protesting his muscles. “Shall we?”

Taking his arm, Dylan followed him inside where they were quickly seated. The staff was excellent and service was swift, almost unnervingly so. Dylan had an idea that this might not all be quite real, as if he was hallucinating the perfection of this evening.

Most of their conversation up until they ordered their meals was composed of comments on the menu. However, as soon as the waiter left them alone, Ryan turned to pierce Dylan through with his gaze. “So, I lied. I wanted to give you a nice night out but I think we need to get something out of the way, first. I figured this was the best place to do it.”

“Are you dumping me?”

Ryan’s mouth fell open with astonishment. “No! Are you kidding?”

“Just checking.” He tried to sound light but his relief was too great for that.

“Anyway. You’ve had something on your mind for awhile. Let’s talk about it.”

Talking was so easy for Ryan. Really, that was what he did for a living. He talked, sorted out problems. Dylan had to work harder to find the words even when they were right there on the tip of his tongue. “I keep thinking about the well. If I would have seen you.”

“You want to go back.” It wasn’t a question.

“Well, yes,” he admitted.

Ryan shook his head. “Don’t you think that’d be pushing it? Our lives have already been changed enough. I just want to keep moving forward with you.”

“But don’t you worry about it?”

“Worry? No. We’re here. I’m with you. I’ve never been in a relationship that feels more...right than this. You’ve been right by my side all along. I want you to stay that way. The well opened my eyes. Maybe yours were already open.”

Dylan rested his elbows on the table, a distinctly impolite thing to do, but he didn’t care at the moment. “Do you think Jake and Quincy are doing okay?”

“I do.” Ryan’s voice was full of the timbre of conviction. “Just because they looked in the well doesn’t mean they’re free of hardship. But you can tell, can’t you? That they really loved each other.”

Dylan knew exactly what Ryan was talking about. It was something in the way their bodies moved, as if they were connected, and the way they looked at each other. “Do you think other people think the same about us?”

Ryan reached out across the table and placed his hand over Dylan’s, stopping him from worrying at his napkin. “I think they’ve been doing that for ages,” he whispered. “I think everyone knew but me.”

Smiling, Dylan held onto Ryan’s fingers and played with them. “You always were kind of dense.”

“Hey, I played football. Gotta have a hard head out there.”

“Do you remember when you did a flip into the sidelines?”

Ryan laughed softly. “I didn’t flip on purpose. I got shoved by three guys at once. Funny thing is, I heard a lot of people on the bleachers saying my number to try and figure out who I was. My only moment of fame. Coach told me to cut out the ballerina bullshit.”

“You? A ballerina? That’s scary.”

“You should talk. I seem to remember a certain brunette pup wearing a leotard.”

Dylan blushed. “It was for gymnastics.”

“And you looked fucking ridiculous.” Ryan ducked as Dylan threw an ice cube at him. Luckily they were sitting off by themselves or their antics might have bothered other diners. “Why were you even taking gymnastics again?”

His blush deepened. “Well...”

“Out with it, Johnson.”

“Look, I was a kid. I actually just really wanted to wear a leotard. I hated gymnastics. There’s a reason I only went for like a month.”

“Maybe we should get you one to wear for me.”

There was a pause as they both contemplated the idea, which seemed intriguing on the face of it until they shared a mental image of hair poking out in all sorts of unattractive places. And what it would do to his crotch.

They spoke in unison. “Now that’s scary.”

As they were laughing, their dinner arrived. The waiter seemed genuinely pleased that they were enjoying themselves, but Dylan hardly paid attention to him. He was busy looking at Ryan.

I love him so much.

And it was true, pure love. It wasn’t the love a person might have for their crush, nearly idolizing the person. No, he was very aware of all Ryan’s flaws, of his imperfections, and he loved him all the same.

Their eyes met, and he knew Ryan felt the same.