Chapter 103 The Elementals in Their Element
While the men were downstairs in the darkened study, dissecting the anatomy of a nightmare and reading about bones and blood, Leela was upstairs reclaiming the day.
She refused to hide. She refused to let Vane, or the High Council, or the cold, gnawing fear at the base of her spine keep her from her duties. She was the Luna of the Blackwood Pack, a title that meant she was the mother of hundreds, not just two. She had to get back to everyday life. The other packs needed the earth teacher.
War or no war, life had to go on. And in this house, life began with water.
She scooped Caspian and Briar up from the bed, ignoring their protests about leaving the warm duvet, and marched them into the bathroom. She stripped them down and placed them in the bottom of the walk-in shower, turning the water on until steam began to fog the glass.
While she washed her hair, scrubbing the smell of stress and stale smoke from her skin, the twins shrieked with delight. The water fell on them like warm rain. They splashed in the gathering puddles, slapping the wet tiles with their open palms and trying to catch the droplets in their mouths like baby birds. They were completely oblivious to the fact that their mother was steeling herself for battle, washing away the fear so she could put on her armor.
"Alright, water bugs, time to dry off," Leela announced, turning off the tap and ending the indoor storm.
She wrapped them each in a fluffy hooded towel—Caspian in a brown bear with little ears, Briar in a pink bunny. She carried the damp, giggling bundles back into the bedroom, depositing them on the rug. She moved with efficient speed, wrestling them into clean diapers and soft play clothes—a task that felt more like trying to dress two angry octopuses than children. She ignored the dull ache in her lower back and the bone-deep fatigue that pregnancy demanded she feel. She pushed it down, locking it away in a box marked 'Later.'
She picked them both up, balancing one heavy toddler on each hip—a feat of maternal strength that rivaled any gym workout the Alpha could do—and headed for the door.
At the bottom of the stairs, she paused. It was a crossroads.
To her left was the hallway leading to the small, private family kitchen where they had eaten last night. It was quiet. It was safe. It was secluded, hidden away from prying eyes and whispered rumors.
To her right were the heavy double doors of the main Dining Hall. Through the thick wood, she could hear the roar of the pack—the clatter of silverware against china, the scraping of chairs, the boisterous laughter of a hundred wolves breaking their fast.
Leela didn't hesitate. She shifted the weight of the twins and turned right.
She wasn't going to cower in the back rooms like a prisoner in her own home. She was going to be seen. She was going to show them that the heart of this pack was still beating strong.
She nudged the heavy doors open with her shoulder and stepped inside.
The noise in the hall dipped for a split second as the pack caught her scent—vanilla, rain, and milk. Heads turned, forks paused mid-air. But there was no fear in their eyes, only a sudden, bright warmth. The volume swelled back up, transforming into a respectful, affectionate chorus of greetings.
"Good morning, Luna!"
"Morning, Leela!"
"Hey, look at those trouble makers!"
Leela smiled, and for the first time in twenty-four hours, it wasn't forced. She walked straight to the long communal tables, the scent of crisp bacon, dark coffee, and maple syrup filling the air. She hadn't made it five steps before she was swarmed—not by guards, but by family.
"Oh, Luna, can I hold him?" Sarah, a young female wolf with bright eyes, asked, abandoning her breakfast to coo at Caspian.
"Of course, Sarah," Leela said, gratefully passing her heavy son over. "Just watch out, he's in a hair-pulling mood today. He thinks he’s a barber."
"And I'll take the Princess!" Marcus, an older, scarred Delta with hands the size of dinner plates, boomed as he reached out for Briar.
Leela handed her daughter over with a laugh. "She's all yours, Marcus. If she starts crying, it's because she wants toast. Buttered. Crusts cut off. She has standards."
Freed of her burden, Leela grabbed a plate and moved down the buffet line, piling it high with eggs and fruit for the baby growing inside her. But her eyes never left the twins.
Caspian and Briar were in their element. They were being passed down the table like royalty, traveling from lap to lap. They were cooed over, tickled, and snuck forbidden bits of sausage by the indulgent pack members.
Leela watched as Marcus let Briar play with his dog tags, and Sarah let Caspian chew on a piece of melon. They weren't just Leela's children; they were the pack's pups. They were the future of everyone in this room. And seeing them there, surrounded by so much love and so many fiercely protective wolves, Leela felt the knot of anxiety in her chest finally loosen.
Fennigan might be in the study planning a war, but Leela was standing in the middle of her army. And looking at the hundred wolves ready to die for those babies, she knew they were ready.