Chapter 208 Side Story 1

Chapter 208 Side Story 1
Kamrynn's POV

Seven months had passed since the mating and Luna ceremonies, and life in the Obsidian Pack had transformed in ways I could hardly have imagined. What once had been a struggling, cursed pack with a heavy heart and dark future was now thriving in every possible way.

Under Calvin’s leadership—and with a bit of my guidance—the Obsidian Pack had risen to heights we hadn’t dared to dream of. Our lands prospered, businesses flourished, and, perhaps most heartening of all, the pack members had regained hope.

Just as I had foreseen, our success hadn’t gone unnoticed. Gifts and tributes arrived regularly from other packs seeking alliances, though Calvin, ever cautious, was selective about who we partnered with. Trust wasn’t something he gave lightly, especially after everything the Obsidian Pack had endured. But there was one alliance we cherished above all others—the Blue Bell Pack.

They had become more than allies; they were family. Alpha Orion, Luna Rmonica, even Kyven and Thalia, were frequent visitors, and we had grown especially close to Rmonica over the past few months. She had given birth to a beautiful baby boy, Lucien, a couple of months ago, and we’d been invited to the celebration.

That wasn’t the only joy the pack had experienced. The curse was truly gone, and the evidence was undeniable. Women who had once wept over lost children were now expecting again, their faces glowing with happiness and hope. It felt like a miracle—because it was.

As for us, Calvin and I had our hands full with our own little miracles. The twins, Astor and Arabella, had grown so much in the past seven months. At ten months old, they were full of energy, curiosity, and, much to Calvin’s dismay, a stubborn streak that I was pretty sure they’d inherited from their father.

Astor had already said his first word about a week ago—and it had been “Mama.” Calvin had been disappointed, though he’d hidden it well behind a crooked smile and a shrug. Still, I could tell it stung a little. Since then, he had been on a mission, determined to make sure Arabella’s first word was “Dada.”

And that’s what had led us to this moment, in the children’s room that smelled faintly of baby powder and formula, where Calvin was currently sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking like a man on a mission.

The room was overrun with baby things—plush toys, baby blankets, and two baby walkers that played the same irritating jingle on repeat. Tiny socks and pacifiers seemed to disappear into the void, only to reappear later in the most inconvenient places.

Calvin sat in the middle of it all, a stuffed bunny in one hand and Arabella in the other. His hair was a mess, sticking up in tufts from where Ara had been tugging at it earlier, and there was a faint smear of mashed bananas on his cheek that he hadn’t bothered to wipe off.

Despite the chaos around us, it was a cozy scene, filled with the sounds of Astor babbling to himself as he played with his building blocks a few feet away. He was completely engrossed in whatever tiny masterpiece he was building, his little face scrunched up in concentration.

I leaned against the doorframe, watching Calvin as he bounced Ara gently on his lap, his eyes bright with determination despite the exhaustion clinging to his features.

He had been at this for weeks now, coaching Ara with soft, encouraging tones, desperate for her first word to be in his favor.

“Da-da,” Calvin cooed, bouncing Arabella lightly on his lap. His fingers wiggled the stuffed bunny in front of her face, trying to hold her attention. “Say it with me, sweetheart. Daaa-da.”

Arabella blinked up at him with wide, curious eyes, a string of drool slipping down her chin. She slapped her tiny hands against his chest, then parted her lips, her little brows furrowing as if she were concentrating hard.

I watched from the doorway, biting back a smile as Calvin’s breath caught, his eyes filled with anticipation. For a moment, it really did seem like she was about to say it.

“Dada?” Calvin asked softly, leaning closer. “C’mon, princess. You can do it.”

“M-ma… ma…”

The sound was soft, but unmistakable.

Calvin froze mid-blink. His fingers slackened around the bunny, letting it drop to the floor with a soft thud. His head turned toward me slowly, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. Then he looked back down at Arabella, who beamed up at him, clearly pleased with herself.

“What the hell, dude?” he asked, squinting at her like she had just betrayed him. “We had a deal.”

Arabella, blissfully unaware of the high treason she had just committed, let out a delighted squeal and reached for his face, grabbing at his nose with her chubby fingers.

I couldn’t hold it in any longer—I burst out laughing.

And I wasn’t the only one. Marlana, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, broke out into peals of laughter so loud and infectious that Astor dropped his building blocks and stared at her in wide-eyed confusion.

“Oh, my goodness,” Marlana gasped between laughs, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “Her first word is Mama! Oh, Calvin, you poor thing!”

Calvin groaned, leaning his head back dramatically. “Unbelievable. I work my back off for this Pack, I lose sleep, I change an ungodly amount of diapers—” He jabbed a finger in my direction without looking at me. “This is your fault, sweet stuff.”

I raised an eyebrow, arms crossed but grinning. “How exactly is this my fault?”

“She’s biased,” he said, still sulking. “You rigged the system.”

I rolled my eyes, but he wasn’t done yet. With a resigned sigh, he kissed Arabella’s forehead and gently placed her back in her crib, shaking his head like a man who had just lost a long-fought battle.

“That’s it,” he declared. “You’re not my favorite child anymore.”

Arabella gurgled happily in her crib, completely unaware of the devastation she had left in her wake. Calvin, meanwhile, stood there like a man who had just suffered the greatest betrayal of his life. He looked at her one last time, shook his head, and let out a long, theatrical sigh.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered again, before turning toward me with a glint of mock despair in his eyes.

Then, without warning, he stretched lazily, cracking his neck like he’d just come to some momentous decision, and sauntered toward me. I raised an eyebrow, but before I could ask what he was up to, he draped himself over my arm like a languid cat, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“You know, darling,” he whined, his lips brushing my ear as he nuzzled into me, “I love our children and all… but clearly, these ones are defective.”

I blinked, caught completely off guard. “Defective?”

“Mm-hmm,” he murmured, his voice low and playful. “Two whole babies, and not one of them said Dada first. Statistically, that’s just unfair. I think the universe is telling us we need a do-over.”

I rolled my eyes, even as a laugh bubbled up in my throat. “A do-over?”

He nodded solemnly, his lips twitching as if he was trying not to laugh himself. “Absolutely. We’ll keep Astor and Arabella, of course. But we’ll make a new one. A better one. One that understands where its loyalties lie.”

I stared at him, incredulous, and then burst out laughing.

“You’re ridiculous,” I said, shaking my head.

“Ridiculously in love with you,” he countered smoothly, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievous spark.

Before I could respond, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my temple, lingering there just long enough to make my heart do that little flip it always did when he got like this—playful, affectionate, and completely impossible.

“Think about it,” he whispered against my skin, his breath warm and teasing. “We could start trying tonight…”

I swatted at him, laughing again. “Oh, my goddess, Calvin. You’re insatiable.”

“Only when it comes to you, sweet stuff,” he said with a wink, straightening up but keeping one arm loosely around my waist.

From her crib, Arabella let out a squeal of delight, clapping her tiny hands together like she was applauding us.

Calvin glanced over at her, sighed dramatically, and then turned back to me with a look of pure resignation.

“Well,” he said with a shrug, “at least one of my girls appreciates me.”

I laughed, leaning into him as he pulled me close, and for a moment, everything felt perfect—the warmth of his arms around me, the sound of our children giggling in the background, and the overwhelming sense of peace and joy that had become our new normal.

We had come so far, and in that moment, I knew we had everything we could ever need.

And maybe, just maybe, Calvin had a point.

We might not be done just yet. We could definitely make the family bigger but probably in a few years. We already have our hands full with these two.