Chapter 239
Kara
One and a half months later
The morning light filtered through frost-etched windows as I stood before the mirror, watching Sophia's hands work magic with my deep gold curls while Emma fussed with the ivory silk draped over my four-month belly.
"Stop fidgeting," Sophia commanded, though her smile softened the words.
"I'm not fidgeting," I protested, but my hand had drifted to my stomach again, fingers tracing the curve where three tiny lives grew. "I'm just... checking."
"Checking what? That they're still there?" Emma laughed. "Girl, they're not going anywhere. Not with the way those three hover."
Through the bond, I felt Blake's immediate response—amusement mixed with unrepentant possessiveness. Damn right we hover. You're carrying our kids. You think we're gonna be chill about that?
Chill would be nice, I sent back, smiling. Just for today. Can you try to be chill for, like, three hours?
Asher's presence brushed against my mind, warm and steady. We can be chill. We're being chill right now. See how we're not in the room? That's us being chill.
You're standing outside the door, aren't you?
A pause. Then Cole's sheepish admission: Blake's pacing. Asher keeps checking his watch. I'm the only one actually being chill.
Liar, Blake and Asher sent in unison.
I bit back a laugh, not wanting to explain to Sophia and Emma why I was grinning at nothing.
"They're driving you crazy through that bond thing, aren't they?" Emma shook her head fondly. "I swear, the way those three act, you'd think no one in history had ever gotten married while pregnant."
"To be fair," Sophia said, carefully pinning winter jasmine into my hair, "no one in this pack's history has been pregnant with triplets. Alpha triplets. While mated to three Alphas who are also triplets." She paused. "Actually, I'm pretty sure that's unprecedented anywhere."
You're spiraling, Asher observed through the bond. I can feel it. What do you need?
I don't know, I admitted. To not fuck this up? To be someone they can actually respect?
They already respect you. His mental voice was firm. They saw you survive Diana. They saw you come back and immediately start making changes. You've done more in six weeks than most Lunas do in years.
Because I had to, I replied.
Exactly. Blake's presence joined Asher's, fierce and proud. You saw what was broken and you fixed it. That's what a Luna does. That's what our Luna does.
The certainty in their voices steadied me. I took a slow breath, let it out.
"There she is," Sophia said softly, watching my face in the mirror. "There's our Luna."
A soft knock interrupted the moment. Sophia moved to answer it, revealing my parents hovering uncertainly in the hallway.
"Is this a good time?" Connor asked, his voice still carrying the careful hoarseness of someone relearning how to speak after a decade trapped in serpent form. "We can come back—"
"No, come in." I turned from the mirror to face them. "Please."
They entered slowly, Connor moving with the stiff gait of ongoing physical therapy while Celeste leaned on his arm. In the six weeks since the rescue, they'd both gained some weight, lost some of the haunted look. But they still moved like people who didn't quite trust the world to stay solid beneath their feet.
In Celeste's hands was a velvet box I recognized from childhood photographs—the ones Dmitri had shown me, from before everything went wrong.
"We wanted to give you something," Celeste said quietly. "Something that belonged to our family. Your family." She hesitated. "If you'll accept it."
The careful phrasing wasn't lost on me. In the month and a half since I'd told them I wasn't ready to forgive, we'd been dancing around each other—tentative conversations, supervised visits, the slow rebuilding of something that might eventually resemble trust.
Your call, Blake sent through the bond. Whatever you want, we support.
I gestured to the box. "What is it?"
Celeste opened it to reveal a delicate silver necklace, the pendant shaped like a crescent moon with tiny diamonds scattered across its surface like stars. Even in the muted winter light, it glowed with inner luminescence.
"This has been passed down through the Silver Blood line for generations," she explained, her voice thick with emotion. "Your great-great-grandmother wore it at her mating ceremony. I wore it at mine." Her eyes met mine, shimmering with unshed tears. "I always dreamed of the day I'd give it to you."
Connor cleared his throat roughly. "We know we don't have the right to be part of this day. We know we gave up that right when we left you in the snow." His hand tightened on Celeste's. "But we're asking anyway. Let us give you this. Let us be here for this."
I looked at the necklace, then at their faces. Saw the genuine remorse there, the desperate hope, the knowledge that they might be refused and would have to accept it.
Thought about the three hearts beating beneath my palm. About the family I was trying to build from broken pieces.
"Help me put it on?" I asked quietly.
The relief that washed over their faces was almost painful to witness. Celeste's hands trembled as she moved behind me, lifting the necklace with reverent care. Through the mirror, I watched Connor's eyes overflow, saw my mother press her lips together against a sob.
The cool silver settled against my collarbone, the crescent moon pendant resting just above the three overlapping bite scars that marked me as claimed.
"You look so much like her," Connor whispered, staring at my reflection. "Your grandmother. Same fire in your eyes, same stubborn set to your chin." He managed a watery smile. "She would have loved you fiercely."
"I wish I could have known her," I said, and meant it. "I wish I could have known any of them. The family I was supposed to have."
"We can't give you back those years." Celeste's voice broke. "But we're here now. We're not leaving again. We're in therapy. And we will spend every day we have left proving that you were never, never unwanted."
I turned to face them properly, one hand still resting on my belly where the babies were starting to make their presence known with small, fluttering movements.
"I know you thought you were protecting me," I said carefully. "I know Diana would have done worse if she'd gotten her hands on me as a child." I took a breath. "But I need you to understand—I don't forgive you yet. I'm trying. For the babies, for myself. But it's going to take time."
"We know," Connor said immediately. "We're not asking for forgiveness. We're just asking to be here. To be allowed to try."
"You can stay," I told them. "You can be part of this. But if you relapse, if you lie to me, if you hurt these children the way you hurt me, I will end it. No second chances."
"We understand," Celeste said, her voice steady despite the tears. "We won't disappoint you again. I swear it."
Through the bond, I felt my mates' approval, their pride in my strength, their determination to support whatever boundaries I needed to set.
"I should finish getting ready," I said, glancing at the clock. "The ceremony starts in forty-five minutes."
My parents nodded, Connor reaching out as if to hug me before catching himself. Celeste pressed her hand briefly to her mouth, then to her heart—a gesture I vaguely remembered from early childhood.
"Thank you," she whispered. "For this chance. We won't waste it."
When the door closed behind them, Sophia immediately appeared at my side with a tissue.
"Don't you dare ruin my makeup work," she warned, but her own eyes were suspiciously bright.
"I'm not crying," I protested, even as I dabbed carefully at the corners of my eyes.
Too late, Blake sent. Already felt it through the bond. You okay?
I'm fine, I assured him. Just emotional. It's allowed.
Want us to kick them out? Asher's presence sharpened with protective intent. If seeing them is too much—
No. I was surprised by how certain I felt. It's good. It's right. They should be here.
When Sophia finally stepped back, I barely recognized the woman in the mirror. The deep gold curls were swept into an elegant arrangement that left my neck bare, the three overlapping bite scars on full display. The ivory silk dress hugged my curves before flowing into a modest train, the empire waist emphasizing rather than hiding my pregnancy. The Silver Blood necklace caught the light, a tangible connection to the heritage I was only now learning to claim.
"Perfect," Emma breathed. "Those Alphas are going to lose their minds when they see you."
Already losing them, Blake admitted through the bond. Cole won't stop pacing. Asher's reorganized the seating chart three times. I'm the only one holding it together.
You're the one who tried to go check on her ten minutes ago, Cole shot back. Asher had to physically restrain you.
I smiled despite myself, sending a wave of affection through the bond to all three of them. I love you. All of you. Even when you're being overprotective nightmares.
The response was immediate and overwhelming—three distinct flavors of love and possessiveness and mine that nearly buckled my knees.
Soon, Asher sent, his voice rough with barely controlled emotion. Soon you'll be ours officially. Not just by bond but by pack law, by every tradition and custom.
I'm already yours, I sent to all three of them.
It does for us, Cole replied softly. It means we're standing in front of the pack, in front of the moon, and claiming you. Publicly. Irrevocably.
I'm ready, I told them. Let's do this.