Chapter 169 Papa.... Fix it

Chapter 169 Papa.... Fix it


"I did lock the bolt!" Rayder muttered frantically, his face still buried in the pillow. "The boy is a shape-shifter, Selene! He probably channeled his Alpha frequency through the door handle just to spite my love life! Justin’s security models are a complete joke!"

Winter took another step closer to the edge of the bed, his small chin resting against the top of the mattress as he peered up at his half-naked father. He blinked his golden eyes slowly, completely unimpressed by the fact that the Alpha of the South was currently hiding under a pillow.

"Papa," Winter repeated, louder this time, shaking the stuffed wolf's ear. "The blue truck. It went crunch under the couch. Fix it."

Rayder took a long, deep, stabilizing breath,the kind of breath an executive leader takes before stepping onto a battlefield—and slowly raised his head. He twisted his massive torso around, keeping the white sheet securely pinned over my legs, and looked down at his son with an expression of profound, exhausted defeat.

"Winter," Rayder said, his deep bass dropping into a frantic, hushed whisper that sounded completely ridiculous coming from a nine-foot wolf. "It is two o'clock in the morning, little spark. The blue truck is sleeping. Your mother is sleeping. I am... I am performing a diagnostic on the mattress line. You need to go back to your room."

Winter didn't move an inch. He simply tilted his head, his small eyebrows furrowing together in a look of stubborn, unyielding negotiation that he had definitely inherited from his father's side of the family.

"No," Winter said flatly. "Want juice."

"There is no juice at two in the morning!" Rayder hissed, his hand reaching out to rub his temples as a muscle in his jaw twitched violently. "If I give you juice now, you’ll be hovering over my bed like a tiny drone until dawn. Go back to your crib, Winter. Right now. That is an Alpha command."

Winter bared his tiny toddler teeth, a flash of his newborn Lycan fangs catching the amber light as he let out a tiny, high-pitched imitation of a growl. He didn't understand the administrative hierarchy of the Southern plains; he understood that his truck was broken and his parents were available.

I couldn't help it,a small, muffled snort of laughter escaped my lips, my face still buried behind the white sheet. Rayder shot me a desperate, pleading look over his shoulder, his golden eyes wide with a total lack of tactical options. The man could dismantle a vanguard sniper unit with his bare hands, but he was completely defenseless against a three-foot extortionist in footie pajamas.

"Alright, alright, hold on," Rayder whispered frantically, leaning over the edge of the bed until his face was inches from his son's. He lowered his voice into a high-stakes corporate negotiation register. "Listen to me, Winter. If you turn around right now, walk back down that hallway, and get into your crib without making a single sound... I will call Justin tomorrow morning. A big blue tractor, Winter. With real rubber tires and a mechanical crane that moves up and down. A tractor from the big southern market. Do we have a deal?"

Winter stopped shaking the stuffed wolf. His large golden eyes tracked his father’s face, his little brain clearly calculating the fiscal value of a mechanical crane against a broken plastic wheel under the couch.
For two agonizing seconds, the future of our night hung in the balance.

Then, Winter slowly let out a small, satisfied nod. "Big tractor," he confirmed, his small voice firm. "Blue one."
"Yes, a massive blue one," Rayder promised, his hand gesturing frantically toward the door. "Now go. Walk. Before I rescind the trade concession."

Winter turned on his heel with the absolute, unbothered efficiency of a tiny general, his fleece pajamas making that same soft swish-swish sound as he marched back out into the green light of the corridor. He didn't even bother to shut the door behind him.

The silence that returned to the master suite was entirely different this time. The thick, electric heat of our passion had been completely shattered, replaced by the ridiculous, human reality of family life.

Rayder remained frozen on the edge of the mattress for five long seconds, his broad shoulders slumped, his dark hair falling over his forehead as he stared at the empty doorway. Slowly, he let out a massive, chest-heaving sigh that sounded like a tire deflating, before rolling over onto his back and staring blankly up at the ceiling fans.

"I am going to have Elias install a biometric, DNA-coded vault lock on that nursery door tomorrow morning," Rayder muttered, his hand covering his eyes as his chest rose and fell. "The boy is three years old, Selene. He shouldn't have the tactical clearance to execute an unannounced raid on my bedroom."

I finally dropped the white sheet from my face, sitting up against the headboard as a full, uncontrolled wave of laughter finally broke past my lips. The sound echoed off the glass walls—bright, loud, and entirely unburdened. I leaned over, resting my chin against his bare, muscular shoulder, my fingers idly tracing the dark line of his collarbone.

"Welcome to the human ways of dating, Alpha," I teased, my eyes sparkling as I looked down at his defeated face. "You wanted the privacy, remember? You wanted the reservations and the domestic life. This is exactly what human parents do—they negotiate with tiny terrorists at two in the morning using high-end agricultural machinery as currency."

Rayder turned his head, his golden eyes locking onto mine, the annoyance in his expression slowly melting away into a soft, wry smile. He reached up, his large hand wrapping around the back of my neck to pull me down until our lips were inches apart.

"The tractor is going to cost me a fortune, you know," he murmured, his deep voice dropping back into that smooth, intoxicating rumble. "Justin will probably insist on custom-coding the crane's automated steering grid just to mock me during the next council meeting."

"It's an investment in our infrastructure, spouse," I whispered, my heart fluttering as his thumb brushed against my cheekbone with that extraordinary, familiar tenderness.

He didn't answer with words. He pulled me down into a quiet, slow, and deeply affectionate kiss that didn't carry the wild, frantic heat of our earlier encounter, but possessed a heavy, enduring warmth that felt infinitely more real.

We lay there in the amber light of the penthouse, wrapped in the velvet sheets with the ring catching the dim reflection of the glass, listening to the quiet, rhythmic silence of a city that had finally learned how to sleep without fear. 

The political questions about the next Alpha of the North were still waiting for us on the marble stage tomorrow, and the human journalists would still be shouting our names at the gates—but as I rested my head against Rayder’s chest, listening to the steady, unyielding beat of his heart, I knew the foundation was already cured.

The winter was gone, the little spark was asleep in his room, and the alliance was entirely unbroken.