Chapter 288 Three Years Later

Chapter 288 Three Years Later

YELENA

Three years.

It has already been three years.

Three years since I was happily married, three years since I’ve been with my family.

My heart felt full, warm in a way I didn’t think was possible before. I am so thankful that the story turned out differently this time.

We survived the pack wars, the betrayals, and the shifting moons, and now, we have this... this quiet, beautiful morning in our home.

I walked down the stairs, moving slowly to let the morning sink in.

I was wearing a matching set, an “up and down” outfit just like Tristan’s. My hair felt wild and heavy around my shoulders, cascading down my back. I hadn’t bothered to tie it up or style it. I just let it be, feeling the ease of a life where I didn’t have to worry about being ready for a fight at any second.

When I reached the bottom step, the sounds of our living room greeted me. It was a normal morning, the kind I used to dream about when everything was chaotic.

Claire and Tyla were on a side, surrounded by scattered toys.

Claire was definitely a big girl now, taking her role as a big sister very seriously. She had her brow furrowed in deep concentration, hunched over a plastic table that she had dragged into the middle of the floor.

They hadn’t noticed me yet.

Even Tristan was distracted, his eyes glued to the TV, though I knew his ears were probably tuned into the house, shifting occasionally as the alpha in him kept watch over our territory.

“Is it not werking, sister?” Tyla asked. Her little voice was soft, curious, and filled with the kind of worship only a younger sister can give.

Claire didn’t stop. She was determined, her fingers working hard at the plastic table.

I had told her a dozen times not to carry it around the room but she was far too stubborn to listen. She pushed her hair out of her eyes, looking every bit like a miniature version of a pack leader.

“Baby girl, it has to work,” Claire said, her voice dropping into a tone that sounded far too professional for an eight-year-old. “I have to start my strawberry business today.”

I blinked, standing there in the shadows of the staircase.

A strawberry business?

In our living room?

We had an entrepreneur in the house, and I hadn't even been informed.

I leaned against the banister, deciding to watch. I wanted to see how she handled it. I kept quiet, letting the scene play out, not wanting to disturb her flow.

She worked with a focused intensity, adjusting the legs of the table until it finally stood straight. A look of triumph crossed her face. She began pulling out plastic cups with the precision of a shopkeeper, setting them up in a neat row.

She really meant business.

“Yay! My big sister did it!” Tyla clapped her hands together, her face lighting up.

Claire smiled, a proud, soft expression that she usually saved just for Tyla. She reached out and pulled her sister in, stretching her arms wide. “Come here, my number one supporter.”

She hoisted Tyla up against her chest and kissed her cheeks.

Tyla giggled, a bright, bubbly sound that filled the room.

When Claire finally set her back down on the ground, Tyla turned around and her eyes landed right on me.

“Mommy!!” She screamed, her face breaking into a wide, toothy grin. She scrambled to her feet and ran toward me as fast as her little legs would carry her.

I moved forward, dropping to my knees to catch her. She slammed into my chest with a happy squeal, and I scooped her up, burying my face in her neck. “My baby!” I whispered, showering her with kisses until she squealed again.

I stood up, carrying her on my hip, and walked over to where Claire was still setting up her shop.

Claire looked up, and for a second, her expression faltered. She looked a little guilty, probably remembering the times I’d told her not to drag the furniture around.

She gave me a nervous, lopsided smile. “Mummy, I can explain,” she said, trying to stand tall even though she knew she’d been caught.

Tyla, ever the loyal little sidekick, decided to step in before I could even say a word. She turned in my arms, reached out, and touched my face with her sticky little fingers. “My sister is selling strowberry, patroneze her.”

I chuckled, looking from Tyla’s pleading eyes to Claire’s hopeful ones. “Really? I should patronize her?”

Tyla nodded vigorously.

By now, Tristan had realized the house was fully awake. He turned away from the TV, his eyes softening as he walked toward us. He crossed the room with that easy, predatory grace he never quite lost, even in his domestic moments.

“Girls, what’s going on here?” he asked, his voice deep and rumbling as he looked from me to the girls.

“Claire is selling strawberry juice, and Tyla is clearly in support of her,” I said, giving him a teasing look.

Tristan looked at the display, nodding slowly as he played along. “Very well then. Let me be her first customer.”

“Yay!” Tyla clapped again. Her hair had fallen forward into her eyes, messy and tangled from her morning playing.

I reached out to pull it back, tucking it behind her ear. It was one of those days when I just couldn't be bothered to brush or style it. I liked it like this... free, unbothered, just like us.

Claire beamed, standing up straighter. She was ready to close the deal.

“So, how much is a cup?” Tristan asked, reaching into his pocket and feigning a search for his wallet.

Claire didn’t even hesitate. She held her ground. “It’s ten dollars for a cup.”

I stared at her, my eyes widening slightly.

Tristan stopped his hand halfway to his pocket. He looked at her, his brows knitting together in genuine confusion.

“Ten dollars for a cup?” he repeated, his voice dropping into a playful, questioning tone. “What kind of strawberry is that? That’s way too expensive, little lady.”

Tyla furrowed her brows, immediately offended on her sister’s behalf.

Claire did the exact same thing, mirroring her sister’s expression. She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s not expensive. You’ll see the worth when you drink it. Are you buying or not?”

She was so serious.
She didn’t even blink.

Tyla nodded, looking at her father with expectant eyes.

She’s even proud, I thought, feeling a swell of affection in my chest. She had that same fire that Tristan had, that same stubborn insistence that she was right.

Tristan shrugged, trying to hide the smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well, I don’t have any cash on me,” he said, teasing her, looking for an excuse to get out of the high price.

Claire didn't even blink. She didn't miss a beat. She immediately reached down and pulled out her iPad, tapping the screen with practiced ease.

“I collect Apple Pay,” she said, holding the screen up toward him.

Tyla turned back to her father, watching his face closely, waiting to see what his next excuse would be.

I watched my husband and our daughters, knowing that this simple, normal, chaotic morning was the greatest victory we had ever won.