Chapter 54 3 months

Chapter 54 3 months
Three months later

The penthouse rooftop garden had become Emily’s sanctuary.

Late-afternoon sun slanted golden across the potted evergreens and climbing jasmine, warming the wide chaise lounge where she lay propped on a mountain of pillows. Her belly—round, taut, unmistakably pregnant—rose like a smooth moon beneath the thin white cotton of one of Logan’s old dress shirts, unbuttoned to just below her breasts. The fabric draped open over the full, heavy curves that had grown almost daily since the first trimester ended. Her nipples, darker now and perpetually peaked, pressed against the open edges of the shirt; every shift of fabric sent a shiver straight to her core.

Wolf pregnancies moved fast.

Three months felt like six human ones. She was already in what the pack obstetrician called “accelerated second trimester”—visibly, undeniably carrying. Twins. Two strong heartbeats that fluttered against her palm whenever she rested a hand there. Two little lives already kicking when their fathers spoke, already responding to the low rumble of alpha growls with happy somersaults.

She was radiant.

Her skin glowed with that same faint silver luminescence that had appeared after her full shift—stronger now, shimmering faintly in direct sunlight. Her hair had grown longer, thicker, curling in wild waves down her back. Her scent had changed—still hers, but richer, sweeter, layered with warm milk and honey and something primal that drove every brother in the house quietly insane.

They were obsessed.

Logan appeared first—fresh from the gym downstairs, sweat still gleaming on his bare torso, gray sweatpants slung low on his hips. He carried a tall glass of crushed ice, lemon, and sparkling water—her current craving.

He knelt beside the chaise without a word.

Set the glass on the small table.

Then leaned in and kissed the taut skin just above her navel—slow, reverent—before pressing his ear there like he could hear the babies better that way.

“They’re active today,” he murmured against her belly. His big hand covered half the curve—thumb stroking in wide, soothing arcs. “Kicking like they want out already.”

Emily smiled—lazy, content—ran her fingers through his damp hair.

“They feel you,” she said softly. “Every time you’re close they start dancing.”

Logan’s eyes lifted—gold flickering in the hazel.

“Can’t blame them.” His voice dropped. “Look at their mother.”

He kissed lower—open-mouthed, just below her navel—then dragged his tongue in a slow, wet line up the center of her belly until he reached the underside of her breast. He nuzzled there—nose brushing the sensitive curve—before closing his lips around one dark nipple.

She gasped—back arching—fingers tightening in his hair.

He sucked gently—slow pulls that made her thighs clench—then switched to the other breast, laving it with the flat of his tongue until she whimpered.

Lucas appeared next—carrying a cashmere throw he immediately draped over her legs even though she wasn’t cold.

He knelt on her other side—kissed her temple—then her mouth—slow, deep, tasting of mint and coffee.

“You’re glowing,” he whispered against her lips. “So fucking beautiful like this.”

His hand slid under the open shirt—cupped the heavy underside of her breast—thumb brushing the wet nipple Logan had just left.

She moaned softly into his mouth.

Liam came up behind the chaise—shirtless, sweatpants low—leaned over the backrest so his chest pressed to her shoulders. His big hands slid down her arms—then around—cupping both breasts from behind—kneading gently while his thumbs circled her nipples in slow, firm strokes.

“Fuck, look at these,” he growled low in her ear. “So full. So sensitive. Gonna leak for us soon, aren’t you, baby?”

The thought made her core clench—slick heat pooling between her thighs.

Lowell dropped to his knees in front of the chaise—grinning wickedly—pushed her knees apart with gentle insistence.

“Room for one more?” he teased—then leaned in—kissed the inside of each thigh—nuzzled the crease where leg met hip—inhaled deep. “Goddamn, your scent when you’re pregnant. Sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever smelled.”

He dragged his tongue up her slit—slow—savoring—groaning against her clit.

Emily’s hips lifted—seeking more.

Luke and Leo arrived together—Luke carrying a small bowl of chilled watermelon cubes, Leo with a chilled bottle of water.

Luke fed her a piece—juice dripping down her chin—then leaned in to lick it off—slow swipe of tongue that turned into a deep kiss.

Leo knelt beside Lowell—spread her wider—then joined him between her thighs.

Two tongues now—Luke’s precise circles around her clit, Leo’s long, slow licks through her folds—dipping inside—fucking her with wet thrusts while Lowell sucked her clit gently.

She moaned—loud, broken—hips rolling.

Levi—last to arrive—climbed onto the chaise behind her—pulled her back against his chest—hands sliding under the shirt to cup her breasts—kneading, pinching, rolling her nipples between his fingers.

“Look at you,” he whispered against her ear—voice wrecked. “Carrying our babies. So fucking perfect. So full of us.”

She turned her head—kissed him—messy, desperate—while the others worshipped lower.

Logan lifted her hips—slid beneath her—positioned her so she straddled his face—then pulled her down onto his mouth—tongue spearing deep while Lowell and Leo took turns sucking her clit.

She came hard—screaming into Levi’s mouth—gushing over Logan’s tongue—body shaking.

They didn’t stop.

Just gentled—prolonging the aftershocks—soft licks, soft sucks, soft strokes.

When she finally stopped trembling, Logan lifted her—turned her—settled her astride his lap—cock hard and leaking against her belly.

He didn’t enter her yet.

Just rocked her gently—letting her slide along his length—coating him in her slick—while the others surrounded them.

Hands everywhere—stroking her belly, her breasts, her thighs—lips kissing her shoulders, her neck, her mouth.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Lucas whispered—kissing her temple. “Carrying our future. Letting us love you through every change.”

Liam nuzzled her neck—growled softly. “Gonna keep you pregnant forever if you’ll let us.”

Lowell laughed against her breast—sucking gently. “She’s gonna need a bigger bed.”

Luke traced the curve of her bump—eyes soft. “You’re glowing, Em. Literally glowing.”

Leo kissed her knuckles—then her palm. “We’re obsessed. Every new curve. Every new mark. Every kick.”

Levi pressed his forehead to hers—voice thick. “We love you. All of you. This version. Every version.”

Emily’s eyes filled—happy tears this time.

She reached for Logan—guided him inside her—slow, careful—sighing as he filled her completely.

He rocked up into her—gentle, deep—hands cradling her belly while she rode him slowly.

The others touched—stroked—kissed—whispered love and praise and filthy promises.

She came again—soft, rolling—clenching around Logan—tears slipping down her cheeks.

He followed—quiet groan—spilling deep—knot swelling gently—locking them together.

The others pressed close—hands on her belly—feeling the faint flutters of their children against their palms.

Emily leaned back against Levi’s chest—Logan still inside her—surrounded by six more mates—warm, safe, loved.

She rested her hands over theirs—over the small lives growing inside her.

And for the first time since she’d felt those heartbeats—she didn’t panic.

She smiled—soft, radiant—silver glow brightening for a moment.

“I’m still scared sometimes,” she whispered.

Logan kissed her temple. “Then be scared with us.”

She nodded.

And in the golden afternoon light—surrounded by seven alphas who worshipped her changing body as much as her unchanging heart—she finally let herself believe.

She wasn’t losing herself to motherhood.

She was becoming more.

And they would love every single version of her—fiercely, completely, forever.