Chapter 85

Around one in the morning, Kathy was startled awake by the sound of one of her babies crying. The house was quiet except for the soft, plaintive wail echoing down the hallway. Kathy blinked sleep from her eyes, her body heavy with exhaustion, and gently slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb her partner.

She padded softly across the cool floor, her footsteps muffled in the darkness. The nursery door was slightly ajar, and as she entered, she saw Kai in his crib, his tiny fists balled up and his face scrunched in distress. The nightlight cast a warm, gentle glow over the room, illuminating the soft pastel colors and the stuffed animals lined up on the shelf.

Kathy moved to the crib and leaned over, her heart aching at the sight of Kai’s tears. She scooped him up into her arms, cradling him close to her chest. His cries quieted almost instantly, replaced by little hiccups and whimpers as he nestled against her, seeking comfort in her familiar embrace.

She rocked him gently, humming a soothing lullaby under her breath. The rhythm of her heartbeat and the warmth of her arms seemed to calm Kai, and slowly, his breathing steadied. Kathy brushed a soft kiss across his forehead, whispering reassuring words as she swayed back and forth, feeling the weight of motherhood and the deep love she held for her child.

Kathy lay Kai down in the inside bouncer, her movements gentle but hurried, hoping desperately that his brother and sister would stay asleep through the commotion. She turned to the bottle warmer, sliding a bottle of milk inside. The thought of breastfeeding sent a shiver of fear through her—ever since she acquired this strange new power, she no longer trusted herself to feed Kai or Leo that way. When the warmer beeped, Kathy tested a few drops on her wrist; it was just right, warm but not hot.

With a sigh of relief, she picked Kai up from the bouncer and offered him his milk, cradling him close as he latched onto the bottle. Suddenly, a new cry echoed from the other crib—Leo. As his cries intensified, Kathy felt a pang of helplessness; with only two arms, she couldn’t tend to both babies at once. Her heart ached as she tried to soothe Kai while glancing anxiously at Leo, torn between them.

Just then, Kathy heard a gentle voice behind her. “You keep feeding Kai and I can make Leo his bottle before I pick him up and feed him,” her partner whispered from the doorway, already moving quietly toward the counter. Relief flooded Kathy’s weary face, grateful for the help as she focused on soothing Kai, while her partner prepared to comfort Leo.

Kathy went back to sit in the rocking chair, gently feeding Kai as he settled into her arms. The slow, comforting creak of the chair echoed softly through the nursery, blending with Kai's contented sucking and the steady hum of the bottle warmer. Kathy breathed deeply, savoring the peacefulness of the moment, even as exhaustion tugged at her eyelids. He scooped Leo up and soothed him, grabbing a bottle and offering it to their hungry son. Anthony settled into the chair beside Kathy; he paused to check on Melody. She was still sleeping soundly, undisturbed by the midnight commotion of her brothers, her tiny form curled up and peaceful beneath her blanket. The soft glow of the nightlight reflected off her gentle features, a small comfort in the quiet chaos of early parenthood. She glanced over at Anthony, weary but loving smile on her face. “We are going to be tired parents taking care of three babies,” said Kathy, her voice soft but threaded with determination and a hint of humor. Anthony chuckled quietly, nodding in agreement as he adjusted Leo in his arms, the shared exhaustion between them softened by the warmth of their partnership and the quiet joy of their growing family.

Anthony smiled, his eyes heavy with fatigue but sparkling with affection. “Yes, I know—let’s finish feeding these babies and then head back into bed,” he murmured, his tone gentle and reassuring. Together, they settled in for the final few moments of their nighttime routine, finding comfort in each other’s presence despite the sleepless hours ahead.

Once Leo and Kai finished their bottles and were gently burped, their eyelids drooped with sleep. Kathy and Anthony softly laid the boys back in their cribs, tucking them in with quiet, loving care. Just as the nursery began to settle and the hush of the night returned, Melody’s cry pierced the calm, signaling her turn for comfort. This time, as Kathy instinctively moved toward their daughter, Anthony reached out and stopped her with a gentle touch on her arm.

He met her gaze and offered a tired but grateful smile. “You can make the bottle and I will feed Melody,” he suggested softly, reaching for their daughter as Kathy nodded in agreement. Their practiced teamwork took over once more, each moving with quiet efficiency despite the late hours, united in their care for their children.

“Okay,”

As a team, Kathy carefully prepared Melody’s bottle, her hands moving swiftly from habit and fatigue. She handed the warmed bottle to Anthony on her way back toward the bedroom, pausing for a moment to exchange a hopeful glance. Both silently wished that Melody would settle quickly and drift back to sleep—otherwise, they knew they might be awake until the first rays of sunlight slipped through the window. Kathy went back into their bedroom and got under the blanket, grabbing her phone from her bag. She unlocked her phone and opened the message, her tired eyes skimming over Amy's familiar name. The text read: “Kathy I heard what happened I am sorry that happened to you. I hope you have a safe recovery; I want to see some pictures of babies. My husband, Leo, keeps me very closed to him because he still feels like someone is still after us. Also, I heard you and Alpha Anthony are returning to the pack soon, I can’t wait. I have to go, I hope we can talk again,” texted Amy. Kathy smiled softly at the warmth in Amy’s words, feeling a bittersweet ache for her friend and the reassurance of their shared experiences. She quickly typed a reply, promising to send photos soon and expressing a hope that they'd catch up when things settled down.

Then she felt Anthony sitting next to her put his chin on her should and kiss her cheek, which it made her smile.

“Melody went back to sleep,”

“That good let some sleep,”

Kathy put her phone on the nightstand and lay down on her pillow, sighing as Anthony joined her, mirroring her movements. They nestled close, hoping to catch a bit of rest before the next feeding, their bodies heavy with exhaustion but comforted by each other’s presence. In the quiet darkness, they let themselves drift toward sleep, grateful for a few precious moments of peace before the nursery would call them again.