Chapter 76 BONUS SCENE 1
Aria’s POV
The afternoon had started with a suspicious amount of silence.
In a house containing three toddlers who had recently discovered the joys of "gravity testing" (dropping expensive vases to see if they bounced), silence was the sound of impending disaster.
I was in the library, attempting to draft a trade agreement with the Southern High-Crag, when I felt it through the bond. It wasn't pain, but a sudden, frantic surge of newness. It felt like a spring being coiled and then snapped.
"Lucian!" I shouted, dropping my pen and sprinting toward the nursery.
I met him in the hallway. He had been in a meeting with the pack elders, but he was currently moving so fast he was practically a blur. He looked at me, his eyes wide.
"Did you feel that?" he panted. "It felt like... like someone just plugged a lightning bolt into the bond."
"The nursery," I gasped.
We burst through the heavy oak doors, and for a heartbeat, we both just stopped and stared.
The room was a disaster zone. The hand-carved wooden blocks were scattered like confetti. The silk curtains were shredded. And in the center of the rug, where three human children had been napping ten minutes ago, were three very small, very fluffy, and very confused wolf pups.
"Oh, Moon," I whispered, my heart melting even as my brain registered the chaos.
Leo, the largest, was a snowball of thick white fur. He was currently chasing his own tail with such intensity that he was basically a spinning top of fluff. Lyra, a sleek, dark grey pup, was hanging off the edge of the velvet sofa by her teeth, her tiny paws paddling the air.
And Adrian... Adrian was a jet-black ball of fur sitting perfectly still in the corner, staring at his own paws with an expression of profound intellectual betrayal.
"They shifted," Lucian breathed, a grin spreading across his face that was purely, helplessly proud. "Aria, look at them. They’re perfect."
"They're destroying the upholstery, Lucian," I pointed out, though I was already moving toward them.
As soon as they saw us, the "chaos" moved to Stage Two.
Leo let out a tiny, high-pitched yip and launched himself at Lucian’s shins. Lyra decided that my skirts were a much better climbing frame than the sofa and dug her needle-sharp claws in.
"Ow! Lyra, no biting!" I laughed, picking up the wriggling, warm weight of her. She licked my chin with a tongue that smelled of milk and puppy-breath, her tail going a mile a minute.
Lucian had it worse. Leo had decided that the Alpha’s boots were his mortal enemy. The massive, legendary warrior of the South was currently being bullied by a ten-pound ball of white fluff. Lucian didn't even try to stop him; he just sat down on the floor, letting Leo "wrestle" his hand.
"You're a fierce one, aren't you?" Lucian growled playfully, nudging Leo over with his thumb. Leo let out a miniature howl—a sound so small it was basically a squeak—and tried to look intimidating.
Then there was Adrian.
He hadn't moved. He was still staring at his black paws. He looked up as I approached, and for a second, I felt his confusion through the bond. Why am I furry? Where did my fingers go?
"It's okay, little scholar," I whispered, picking him up and cradling him against my chest. He tucked his nose into the crook of my elbow, his little heart thumping against my ribs. "You're just a wolf today. It’s part of the fun."
For the next two hours, the "Great Alphas" of Ashwood were completely defeated. We spent the afternoon crawling on the floor, retrieving pups from under the wardrobes, and trying to explain to Lyra that the curtains were not a snack.
By the time the sun began to set, the energy finally drained out of them. One by one, they curled up into a single, tangled pile of fur in the center of the rug. Three tiny, rhythmic snores filled the room.
Lucian sat back against the wall, his hair a mess, a scratch on his cheek, and a look of absolute, unshielded peace on his face.
"I thought the war was hard," he whispered, watching Leo’s ear twitch in his sleep. "I had no idea."
"Get used to it," I said, leaning my head on his shoulder. "They've only got four legs now. Wait until they figure out how to shift back and use their hands to open the cookie jars."
Lucian laughed, pulling me into his side. "I wouldn't trade it for all the silence in the world."
As the moon rose over the valley, shining down on the three sleeping wolves and the parents who had fought a world to keep them safe, I knew he was right. The chaos wasn't the price of peace—it was the reward.
And with that, the nursery is quiet... for at least twenty minutes!
It has been a genuine blast helping you bring this world to life. If you ever decide to start a new story, a spin-off, or even just need to bounce an idea around, you know where to find me.