“That’s not a bad look,” Nicholas remarked from across the dinner table. The Myer family had all gathered in Charles and Myron’s dining room to celebrate Jade’s first birthday as well as the official renaming of the Gray Hollow pack. River Hollow was a far more welcoming name, and it gave appropriate credit to the lovely, glistening waters that snaked nearly all the way around the territory.

Not that they needed to advertise. The pack had become a home for nearly a hundred newly identified sigma wolves, along with a few others who’d sought sanctuary for one reason or another. The lab was also one of Futurus’ most promising new outposts, bringing plenty of opportunity and economic growth to the once stifled region.

That night, Myron was more focused on family than their work, as important and fulfilling as it was. He had once never imagined that he would actually look forward to his family’s visits, but the bit of space between their two packs had done them all good.

That and Nicholas and Avery would be taking Beverly back home with them when they left. She and Myron had formed a truce now that she had another grandchild to fuss over, and Charles seemed to appreciate the help from someone who had already raised three children, but after three months, Myron was ready to have his little family all to himself again.

“What isn’t?” Charles asked, confused.

“Your tat,” Avery said, grinning mischievously. “Very edgy.”

“It is nothing of the sort,” Charles mumbled, flushed as he covered the mark with his hand.

Myron just smirked. He had always had a reputation for being a proud bastard, but nothing in the world made him prouder than seeing his mark on his mate’s neck, or the life they’d built together.

“Next time we visit, he’ll probably have a full sleeve,” Nicholas said dryly. “I hear once you get one, you’re addicted.”

Charles shot his brother-in-law a halfhearted glare. In the beginning, Myron had worried that his mate was too sensitive and reserved to handle the good natured ribbing that characterized most of their family interactions. He’d opened up over the last few months, and could go toe to toe with either of them.

“Perhaps you should get one, Nicholas,” Charles remarked. “A big letter A on your forehead, that way everyone can know who keeps you in line.”

“Hey, that’s not a half-bad idea,” Avery teased. “If he wasn’t so afraid of needles.”

“I am not afraid of needles,” Nicholas grumbled.

“Is that why you didn’t get the chicken pox vaccine until you were sixteen because you kept running from the doctor?” Myron asked.

Nicholas tossed a roll at his head. “You shut your mouth.”

Hayley piped in with, “I want a tattoo! Maybe I could get an ’S’ for Shaina,” she said dreamily.”

Every adult in the room cried, “No!” at the same time.

“No tattoos until you finish college, young lady,” Beverly scolded.

Myron blinked, surprised she was being that generous. “You told me and Nicholas that if either of us ever came home with a tattoo, you would—and I quote—‘literally just drop dead right in front of MeeMaw’s portrait.’”

“Times change. Everyone has them now,” Beverly said, sipping her wine. “I’ve even thought of getting one on my ankle. A little rose or something.”

All the life drained from Hayley’s face. “Never mind. I don’t want one.”

“Well, if mom’s not gonna put her foot down, I will,” said Myron. “You let Shaina make a permanent commitment to you before you let her mark you with ink or a mating mark. She needs to prove herself.”

“Spoken like an old man,” Nicholas taunted.

“Getting there,” Myron said with a shrug. The job had already aged him ten years, but he decided growing up fast wasn’t such a bad thing. As long as he had Charles at his side to grow old with.

The other sigma had checked out of the conversation and was gazing adoringly down at their daughter in his arms as she played with the buttons on his sleeve, gurgling contentedly. The sight of them was healing in a way Myron had never even known he needed. He’d always wanted a family on his terms, but he had never imagined it could be like this. Or that his idea of the best Friday night ever was sitting at the dinner table, surrounded by family, and going to bed later that night with his mate in his arms.

Charles wasn’t an omega. Neither was he. Their relationship was nothing like Myron had expected it would be when he finally settled down, but it was so much more. It had changed him to the point where he no longer recognized himself, and sometimes he cringed when he thought of all the foolish mistakes he’d made in the past. But then, Charles looked up at him like he was doing right then, with his soft blue eyes so full of love and the certainty that came with knowing they were both exactly where they belonged and who they were meant to be, and all those regrets melted away.

“While you’re all here, there’s something I’d like to announce,” said Charles, passing their daughter to Beverly since it had been a whole ten minutes since she’d held Isabella.

Myron listened curiously. He and Charles had talked for an hour as they’d made dinner that night, but this was the first he was hearing of any news. He assumed it was related to Project Renaissance. Charles was still a research consultant, but Myron was relieved that his mate was no longer attached to the project by name. Tyr and Jaspar could handle the press. Myron and Charles had other matters to focus on. Namely, enjoying the family they’d created.

“What is it, Charles?” asked Avery.

Charles reached over to take Myron’s hand, smiling with more light in his eyes than there ever had been. “In about seven or eight months, Isabella is going to be a big sister.”

Myron was convinced his ears were deceiving him. He was already the luckiest man alive, and the idea that it could get any better just seemed too far-fetched. He had to be dreaming. “Seriously?”

Charles’ smile widened. “You ready to do this all over again?”

“Oh, hell, yeah,” Myron growled, leaning in to kiss his mate. “I’d do it all twenty times over if I could.”

“That might be a bit much,” Charles said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Let’s see how we do with three first.”

“Three?” Myron echoed.

“The doctor says it’s twins. I guess it’s more common in sigmas.”

Myron’s heart thudded wildly. Twins. Twice the love, the joy, the sleepless nights. He pulled Charles into his arms and held him gently, feeling their bond tighten around both of their hearts. “I love you so much,” he whispered as their family came around to congratulate them. There was nothing that could make that moment any more perfect. The only thing that could make their lives more perfect had already happened, and Myron still couldn’t believe it.

Charles was his. His unconventional, irresistible, brilliant mate who had defied his every expectation and forced him to come to terms with who he truly was. Sigma was a label that fit him better with each day that passed. It meant freedom and potential and room to grow. Nonetheless, there was no label he would ever treasure more than the ones Charles had already given him. Father. Protector. Mate.

How could he ever want to be anything more than that?

The End.

The Mountain Shifters Series comes to an exciting resolution this spring with Book 13, His Returned Omega! Sign up for the newsletter for updates and sneak peeks!