Finn went into labor two days earlier than expected.

Over the last week, the pack had come together to build an extension for the cabin. Finn’s brothers had helped set down the foundations for two new rooms. Daisy had brought some of Thom’s old clothes that he’d outgrown, and Lucy had brewed more health potions for Finn.

Old Bill had brought over sandwiches for their meals, and a few of the pack wolves had contributed some of their own stored lumber. Dante had watched them all come and go, gratitude building in his chest.

Back in his old pack, no one helped each other with such generosity.

With Gabe and Rhett’s help, Dante had built the new wing of the cabin—hammering together the walls, adding insulation, building rafters, then the roof.

Finn had cleaned up where he could, cooking their meals, saving some to freeze for when the pups arrived. When he found time to spare, Dante had finished off the bassinets Finn had started.

He’d built a new bed for them, too—queen-sized, complete with knobs on the bed frames and drawers for storage. Dante wasn’t sure if they’d ever get to use the sturdy bed posts—they were built to withstand restraints, if Finn wanted to try them. But with multiple pups on the way... they’d probably be lucky to even catch a nap together.

It wasn’t the best outcome, but Dante wasn’t complaining. The pups were more important.

Late on a Tuesday afternoon, with the breeze flowing through the newly-painted cabin, the first contraction began.

Dante was in the middle of checking the bedroom door installation, when Finn cried out. He felt the jolt of pain through their connection, dropping his wooden level. Hurried to the kitchen, where Finn leaned against the counter, an arm wrapped around his belly.

“Finn?” Dante asked, nervous energy coursing through him. “Do I bring you to Lucy?”

“Not yet,” Finn said, beads of sweat on his temples. “They should be here in a day or two. I think my body’s preparing for the birth.”

Dante checked him over, then kissed him and returned to work on his door. Except thirty minutes later, Finn cried out again, and the pain was sharper this time. Dante scrambled through the hallway, making a note to clean up the bits of sawdust in the corners.

“Finn,” he said, stopping worriedly next to his mate, pressing his palm to Finn’s belly. It was firm behind his cotton smock, heavy with their pups. In the times Dante visited that moonlit lake with Finn, he’d always seen three pups in the nest. Maybe that prediction would come true. “I’ll call Lucy.”

“I don’t want to bother her,” Finn said, frowning.

“She said we’re welcome to call, remember?”

Finn chewed on his lip, looking down at his belly. “It doesn’t feel like it’s time yet.”

Dante hesitated. He’d been reading up on wolf-shifter births. They could happen quick, but sometimes, their bodies went through contractions far in advance. “I’ll send her a text,” he said. “So at least she knows.”

“Fine,” Finn said. Then he cried out again, doubling over. Dante panicked.

“What do I do?” He scrambled, pulling Finn against himself, breathed in Finn’s scent and sweat, running his hand down Finn’s back. He held Finn until the contraction was over, then scooped his omega into his arms.

Finn yelped.

“You’re going on the bed,” Dante said. “I’ll get you all the things.”

Finn looked like he was about to protest. Then he glanced down at his belly, as though he was listening. “You might be right,” he murmured. “I think the pups are coming.”

Dante’s stomach twisted, and then flipped. Still wasn’t sure he was ready for the pups.

Since the bonding ceremony, Finn’s belly had grown a little larger. The stretch marks crossed his abdomen like claw marks, red and angry. Dante had been rubbing lotion on them, kissing them, but sometimes, he caught Finn looking down at himself, touching his scars.

I’m okay, Finn would say. I’m not heartsick over them.

You’re beautiful anyway, Dante would tell him. Ain’t no one like you in the world.

And Finn would smile.

Right now, Finn lay on the new mattress in their brand-new bedroom, looking worriedly around. “I hope this won’t ruin the bed—you worked so hard to get everything perfect.”

“It’s fine,” Dante said. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Even the stains?” Finn cracked a smile.

“Those are like badges from war,” Dante said. “Like the ones you have. They show how strong you are.”

Because Finn was strong, hanging in there, recovering like he had from those leg injuries. Hardly a day passed when Dante didn’t look at Finn’s scars, and think how incredible that Finn was still alive, that he was here, in Dante’s arms.

He pulled out the pile of bedding they’d prepared—the mattress protector, the plastic sheets, the extra blankets for Finn. Spread them around on the bed, and watched as Finn crawled onto the laid-out material, his belly round beneath him.

“Gods, I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Dante scooped Finn into his arms. Pressed his nose into Finn’s hair, and breathed him in.

After today, there wouldn’t just be the two of them—there’d be the pups, too. Probably three babies curled up in their arms, searching for Finn’s nipple to nurse. Dante pulled Finn’s shirt up, nosing at his pink nipples. They had swollen a little, and when Dante nosed at one, pale milk dribbled out.

He licked at it. “Tastes like vanilla.”

Finn chuckled. “Leave some for the pups.”

Dante pressed a kiss to his lips, grinning. “Yeah. I’ll milk you elsewhere.”

Finn’s cheeks darkened into a deep red. Dante couldn’t help kissing him again. Trailed kisses all over Finn’s face, his forehead and his eyes, his nose, his cheeks. So damn beautiful.

Then Finn tugged the phone out of Dante’s pocket. “We should tell Lucy,” he said. “Don’t want her throwing a fit when we could’ve given her some notice.”

Dante quailed. “Yeah, okay.”

Finn was halfway through the message when the next contraction began. He dropped the phone and gritted his teeth, curling up as his body clenched. “Fuck! That hurts.”

Dante wiped the sweat off Finn’s forehead, rubbing his belly. “It’s just a contraction? The pups aren’t coming yet?”

“They’ll be here soon.” As he panted, Finn looked down at his belly, a smile lighting up his face.

Grabbing the phone off the bed, Dante hit the button for the camera app, and took a picture of his omega. Didn’t want to lose that moment, Finn all happy like that, looking forward to their pups.

Then he finished the message to Lucy, and hit Send.

Waited with his omega, pulling out towels, basins, getting the pot of water going on the stove.

“You really read up on all that, didn’t you?” Finn asked, grinning when Dante returned to the bedroom.

“Well, yeah. I’m not gonna wait for you to teach me everything.” Dante smiled, pressing Finn back against the bed. Finn matched his grin. Dante straddled his omega, touching his abdomen lightly to Finn’s belly, kissing him.

They lost themselves in the kiss for a while, until Finn cried out again.

Dante swore, pulling away, looking down at Finn’s belly. It made him nervous, Finn being in pain over and over. He held Finn, brushed the sweat out of his face.

Someone knocked on the door, but Dante waited until Finn’s pain had faded, before he answered the door. Lucy was standing on the doorstep, medical bag in hand.

“How is he?” she asked, following him into the cabin.

“Finn says the pups are coming today,” Dante said. He led her to the bedroom, where Finn had sagged back into the bed, his skin gleaming with a sheen of sweat.

Lucy set her bag down, pulling out a stethoscope. She took Finn’s vitals, then pressed the stethoscope to Finn’s belly, listening to the pups. “The heartbeats are normal,” she said. “You have warm water?”

Dante nodded. “On the stove.”

“Good.”

They undressed Finn, wiping him down. Then Finn gasped again, and squeezed his eyes shut. Lucy pushed two gloved fingers into him, her eyes narrowed. “He’s almost fully dilated.”

Dante couldn’t help growling anyway. Mine.

Lucy clicked her tongue, then sent him off to fetch some warm water.

It was painful as they waited, waves of contractions rolling through Finn. Dante held his hand, rubbed his back. Finn hissed anyway.

“I swear, the next time you even think about having more pups,” Finn said, gripping Dante’s hand like a vice. “I might wrench your balls off.”

Dante squirmed, fighting the urge to cover his balls. “I’ll get you everything you need,” he said. “More wet towels?”

Finn cried out, baring his teeth. His fur bristled over his arms, his canines pushing out a little. In rare cases, Dante had read, omegas lost control of their wolf during childbirth, and became feral.

Dante kissed his forehead, held Finn’s hand, murmuring into his ear. “You can do it. I know you can.”

Finn growled. Lucy said, “Looks like the first pup is crowning.”

“Push,” Dante said. “Push harder, Finn!”

“Don’t make me punch you,” Finn snarled, pushing hard. Sweat trickled down his neck; his tendons strained. Then he pushed again, and again, and the first pup slid out of him, bloody.

Lucy caught the pup. “Looks like this one’s doing fine,” she said. Dante barely watched as she cleaned the pup up, wiping the blood away from its face. He held Finn, dropping kisses on his forehead. “You did it,” Dante said. “Just two more to go.”

Finn gritted his teeth, his eyes bright with exertion.

Then the pup began to wail, and Lucy came around to Finn’s side, carefully handing him the baby. “Looks like he’s a healthy one, Finn. Keep going.”

Finn looked down at the pup on his chest, a tired smile spreading through his face.

Dante stopped breathing. Could only look at his omega, and his pup. He didn’t know what it was, a sort of magical connection that drew them all together. Finn holding their flesh and blood. The pup had his eyes shut, little fists balled up, wailing enough to bring the house down.

And yet... Dante wanted that pup. Wanted his omega. He hadn’t been sure if he’d take to the pups before, hadn’t known if he’d be any good with kids.

But seeing them together, seeing the sparkle in Finn’s eyes... Dante wanted them all. Wanted his family.

He leaned in, cradling Finn and their baby, touching the pup’s soft skin. “C’mon, Finn,” he whispered, “You can do it.”

Finn sucked in a shaky breath, then held Dante’s hand, and pushed again. Dante lost track of how long it took, only that Finn panted, growling as more contractions swept through him. Dante wiped the sweat from his face, pressed kisses to his damp hair.

The second pup emerged, bloody, and soon after, the third one followed.

Lucy cleaned the pups up, handing Finn the second, and Dante, the third. “Congrats,” she said, smiling. “Three healthy boys.”

Only then did Dante relax.

He looked at the tiny pup in his arms, his mouth open in a wail. Something so small shouldn’t be so loud. But it was healthy, it was his and Finn’s.

He met Finn’s eyes, awed. Couldn’t believe they’d done it. That all the pups were birthed safely, that Finn had gone through it all, and he was smiling at Dante, his arms full of pups.

Dante’s heart swelled. He leaned over Finn, pressed a kiss to his lips. “So proud of you,” Dante whispered. “You did great. I love you all.”

Finn broke into a tearful smile. Dante nuzzled him, holding the pup in his arms, stroking the other two. The babies were all vulnerable, so small and soft. Didn’t know which would be named what, but that could wait.

He had a family, his omega and his pups. They were all so precious, and as the pups all wailed, Dante kissed his omega, excitement unfurling in his chest.

It was a new beginning.

One year later

It was on a sunny summer afternoon, just after one of Finn’s woodworking classes, that they ran into a spot of trouble.

Finn locked the workshop door as the last of the Saplings class left, waving goodbye to Sarah. Then he turned, heading into the cabin.

One year after Dante had been accepted into the pack, their cabin was a little larger—Dante had teamed up with Gabe and Kendrick to expand the kitchen and living area. Where they barely had space in the kitchen before, there was now room two people could comfortably fit in. Finn’s old bedroom had been turned into a study, and they’d installed pup-proof gates around the house.

Finn stepped up the porch with Crumpet, the terrier scampering at his heels. They made their way through the cabin, and found Dante in the nursery.

There, Dante knelt before their pups, a stack of soiled diapers to one side.

Finn’s heart fluttered, all over again.

“They were all wailing,” Dante said when Finn entered the room. “George first, then Liam. At least Mark doesn’t need his diaper changed.”

“They weren’t so good for their Papa, huh?” Finn smiled, stroking Dante’s shoulder. “I missed all of you.”

Dante grinned. “Missed you too.”

George and Liam lay on the floor, smiling when Finn waved at them. They looked more like Finn, with their auburn hair and blue eyes, whereas Mark had taken on Dante’s looks, dark-haired and golden-eyed. Mark was crawling next to Dante, picking at the soiled diapers. Dante clicked his tongue. “C’mon, Mark. Don’t touch the poop.”

Mark stared at Dante, then stuck his fingers in the diapers. Dante groaned. Mark giggled.

“I just bathed you guys!” Dante said, frowning.

Finn bit down a smile, stepping over to scoop Mark into his arms. “Don’t do that, Mark,” Finn chided. “Listen to Papa.”

Mark grinned, waving at Finn. “Dada!”

“Daddy,” Finn said, enunciating the words slow and clear. Always gave him a thrill, though, the pups calling them dad.

“Dada,” Mark said.

“Good enough.” Finn swung Mark into the air, then hugged him close. Mark squealed. Finn knelt by Dante, rubbing George and Liam’s bellies. “Other than the wailing?” Finn asked, grabbing Mark’s poopy hand before he could stick his fingers in Dante’s hair. “I hope they were good.”

Dante rolled his eyes. “They’re a bunch of little devils. Makes me wonder if I was this bad, growing up.”

“Maybe you were.” Finn smiled, nudging him in the side.

“I fed them, too. These guys were thirsty,” Dante said, tucking fresh diapers beneath George and Liam. “Gave them some apple juice. Wanted to get them all ready before we go visit Old Bill.”

“Just give me a moment to get ready,” Finn said, “and then I’m good with taking over.”

Dante grinned, tilting his face. Finn met him halfway, kissed him slow and sweet. This never got old, spending his days with Dante, kissing his alpha, building a family together.

Watching his mate, Finn’s chest swelled with pride. Dante had come a long ways. He’d learned to care for their pups, he’d gotten over his worries about being a dad, and he’d gotten his wolf under control.

Some days, Finn would find Dante sitting on the floor with his pups, teaching them how to howl. Other days, he’d find Dante on his back, lifting his pups into the air, pretending they were little airplanes flying in the sky. The pups loved him. And so did Finn.

“Bill said he’s having a party next weekend,” Dante said. “His eighty-third birthday. What gift do you want to bring him?”

Finn thought on it. “A preserve cabinet? It seems like he’d like that.”

“Sounds great to me,” Dante said, brightening. “I’ll make it.”

“Thanks. Most of the pack will be there, it seems,” Finn said. “Probably my mom, too.”

At that, Dante studied him. “You’re fine with that? Bringing the pups there?”

Finn shrugged. He wasn’t really sure where he stood with his mother. Sometimes, she seemed to warm up to the pups, maybe giving them a tight smile. Sometimes, she ignored them at Market Day. Aunt May was a little better.

They weren’t his immediate family anymore, though—Dante and the pups were.

“Lots of the pack will look out for the pups, too,” Finn said. “Gabe and Ken will be there. So will Daisy, and Rhett.”

“Good,” Dante said.

Finn swung Mark up into the air. Blinked when Mark’s diapers slipped off his legs, landing on the floor with a thud. “Oops.”

“Oops,” Dante said. “Should’ve fixed that on better.”

Then a thin, pale yellow stream splashed onto Finn’s chest, and Mark kicked his legs, giggling. His pee pattered all over Finn’s shirt, and down his arms.

“Gods,” Finn said, turning to look at Dante. Dante gave him a sheepish grin, only to yelp when two other streams hit him in the side.

“Hey!” Dante said, looking incredulously at George and Liam. They babbled, and the streams of pee continued, splashing all over Dante’s legs, and then the hardwood floor.

“This is the new definition of ‘golden shower’, isn’t it?” Finn asked, looking down at himself, then Dante.

The pups giggled, trying to howl.

“At least they aren’t trying to mark their territory,” Dante said. “Imagine if we were still in those days, pissing at every street corner to say it was ours. This place would be full of piss.”

“Imagine Arnold doing that,” Finn said. “Raising his leg every street corner.”

Dante snorted. “I dare you to tell him that.”

“No, you tell him that.”

“He’ll kick me out faster than you can say ‘Shoo’,” Dante said, nudging Finn in the side.

Finn laughed. “Let’s not do that, then.”

Dante grinned, leaning in to steal a kiss. “Guess we gotta go grab a shower,” he said. “All of us? Think the tub will fit?”

“Maybe,” Finn said, smiling. “We could try.”

Shaking his head, Dante scooped George and Liam up in his arms, leaving Mark to Finn. They trooped to the bathroom, five of them. Finn and Dante set the pups into the tub, stripped them down. Then Finn pulled his clothes off, and Dante stared.

“Hang on,” Dante said. “Pink lines?”

Finn looked blankly at him. Then he glanced down at himself, and found long pink lines running down his chest, to his belly, each as wide as his finger.

His stomach flipped. “Oh.”

“We didn’t use condoms last week,” Dante said slowly. “You were in heat.”

The pups had napped together a handful of times last week, and Dante had pinned Finn down, taken the chance to claim Finn for himself. It had been a little awkward, being knotted together when the pups woke.

But it had been sweet, those stolen moments with his alpha, Finn writhing beneath Dante, panting as Dante kissed every inch of his skin. With the pups growing older, private time to themselves had grown rare, precious.

And now Finn carried Dante’s pups again—a new set. Except this time, Dante was pack. And so the lines on Finn’s body were pink.

Dante stared at Finn, his eyes warm, incredulous. “I can’t believe this,” he murmured, scooping Finn into his arms. “More pups?”

Finn laughed. “I don’t know how many more I can handle.”

“Me neither,” Dante said, kissing him firmly on the lips. Then he kissed Finn thoroughly, winding his fingers in Finn’s hair, pulling Finn flush against himself. I love you.

Finn leaned into his alpha, his heart swelling. He looked down at his flat belly, smoothing his fingers over the lines. Couldn’t believe that, in three months, there would be more pups joining their family, more children for them to love.

“You’re fine with that?” Finn asked breathlessly, gasping when Dante kissed down his throat. Dante slid his palm over Finn’s belly, twining their fingers together.

“Yeah,” Dante murmured, kissing the bite scar on Finn’s neck. “S’long as I’m with you,” he said, turning Finn in a slow circle. “Being dads with you is like a dream come true.”

The smile on Finn’s mouth grew so wide, that Finn thought his face might crack.

He hadn’t imagined this future with Dante. But now that they were here, with three beautiful pups and more on the way... he couldn’t have asked for better.

“I love you, too,” Finn whispered, his heart so full that his joy spilled out as tears in his eyes.

Dante kissed them away. Then they crouched by the tub and pulled their pups into a hug, and Finn leaned into Dante, certain that, with his mate at his side, the possibilities for their future were endless.