MOOD SWINGS AND SLOBERING TEARS

MOOD SWINGS AND SLOBERING TEARS
Darius

No one, and I mean no one, prepares you for a pregnant mate.

Battling rogue wolves? I’ve got that down. Negotiating with Elders and managing a pack? Easy as ABC. But Ayla, sixteen weeks pregnant, sobbing in the middle of the kitchen because her blueberry muffin was “too blue”—that’s a war zone I never saw coming.

And the worst part? I’d still take a silver bullet to the chest for her without hesitation.

Like she said I was obsessed with her.

This morning started out peaceful.

It was a fairytale morning, and even though it seems like I am being cliché I literally am not.

The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and for five glorious minutes, Ayla was still asleep. Freddy and I had a plan—bring her breakfast in bed, extra fruit, the fluffy pancakes she liked, and tea with honey. I was determined to make her smile today.

Then it happened.

From down the hallway, we heard her voice echo through the house.

“Darius!”

I froze… this could not be good.

I mean these days whenever she yelled out my name like that it meant that I was getting ready for a literal full blown meltdown.

“Oh you are fucked” Leo snickered… if only it was possible to strangle him.

Freddy winced. “She’s awake.”

We both sprinted down the hall like soldiers…. Let me tell you being even a second late culd be like the worst decision ever.

“What is it, sweetheart?” I asked, pushing open the door.

She was sitting up in bed, hair tousled, eyes glassy, holding the shirt she had worn the night before. “This shirt used to fit me.”

I blinked. “It still fits you just fine baby.”

“No, it doesn't. I look like a fucking walking puff balloon!” she said, voice breaking. “I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I can swear to the goddess that I grew another chin overnight.”

Freddy looked at me, horrified. “She has more than one chin now?”

“Freddy, not helping,” I muttered, elbowing him.

“Sorry” he whisper yelled.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, suddenly deflating. “I know I’m acting crazy.”

I sat beside her and pulled her close. “You’re not crazy. You’re growing a tiny werewolf inside you. That is already so much work”

She giggled through tears. “You are the best babe” she said.

“You are really pulchritudinous you know” I said suddenly.

She scrunched her nose at me “what does that even mean?” she asked.

“It means that you are fucking sexy” I said

She laughed “there is no way that is a real word”

I winked “it is babe”

Freddy placed the tray of food on her lap and smiled shyly. “We made your favorite.”

Ayla’s eyes lit up. “You added raspberries?”

He nodded proudly. The Extra ripe ones.”

She beamed. “Thank you, Freddy. You’re my favorite person today.”

“Ha!” He turned to me with a grin. “You hear that? Favorite.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t get cocky.”

For a moment, it felt like peace had returned. Ayla started eating, humming happily. I leaned back, enjoying the calm.

Then she stopped mid-bite. “I need banana pancakes.”

Freddy and I exchanged a look.

“You said fluffy pancakes were your favorite,” I pointed out.

“I know, but now I need banana ones. With cinnamon. And maybe a bit of whipped cream,” she added, eyes wide and pleading. “Please?”

I stood without complaint. “Banana pancakes, coming right up.”

“Wait!” she called out as I reached the door. “Do we still have that weird pickled onion jam?”

“...Pickled what now?”

She nodded seriously. “It would go great with the pancakes.”

Freddy gagged. “That should be illegal.”

“I’m pregnant,” she said dramatically. “Nothing is illegal anymore.”

I returned to the kitchen and got to work. Twenty minutes later, I was back with her new creation. She took one bite and immediately burst into tears.

“I hate it!” she cried. “It tastes really terrible!”

“But you-”

I elbowed Freddy before he could keep talking.

I put the plate aside, sat down beside her, and wiped her cheeks. “It’s okay. Not every combo is a winner.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” she sniffled.

“You’re not a mess,” I said gently. “You’re just pregnant. And glowing. Like an emotionally unstable angel.”

Freddy chuckled from the corner. “Can I call you that?”

“No,” Ayla and I said in unison.

The rest of the morning continued like this. Ayla switching between laughing and crying, Freddy cautiously hovering in case for any emergency.

At one point, she demanded we find the soft purple socks with the tiny moons on them—and when we brought her stars instead, it almost started World War III.

This fucking woman was going to be the death of me and I was not even complaining.

“Why can’t anyone find anything in this house!” she wailed. “I’m surrounded by wolves and still no one has instincts!”

Finally, I sat on the floor beside her, exhausted but still smiling.

“You know,” I said, “when I imagined us having kids, I didn’t picture being ordered around for weird pickles and moon-themed socks.”

She chuckled. “I didn’t picture being this emotional either.”

“You’re doing amazing, Ayla. I wouldn’t trade any of this. Even the breakdown over toast.”

She groaned. “Why did you have to bring that up?”

Freddy chimed in. “You cried because it was too crunchy.”

“It was betraying my mouth!”

I laughed so hard I nearly cried. “I love you,” I said honestly.

She reached out and squeezed my hand. “I love you too. Even when you can’t find the right socks.”

Freddy dropped onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. “This kid better be cute. That’s all I’m saying.”

Ayla narrowed her eyes. “Don’t jinx it Freddy.”

Freddy snorted. “I’m going to be the cool older brother. They’ll look up to me.”

“They might look at you like you’re crazy,” I added.

“I’m still the favorite,” Freddy said smugly.

“Today,” I corrected.

Ayla yawned, her head resting on my shoulder. “Thank you both—for everything.”

“Always,” I whispered, wrapping my arm around her as she drifted off.

Freddy leaned in. “Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time she asks for banana-pickle-onion pancakes… we fake a disappearing act.” I nodded my head “Deal.”