Page 8 of Puck Your Nanny

She looks confused. "I'm a Beta. Why do you ask?"

I sigh. "I can't smell your scent. It's odd. Even Betas have a scent."

She looks surprised by this comment. "Oh. I didn't have pheromones when I tested at sixteen."

I didn't know that was possible, but I'm not a doctor. "So," I clear my throat and change the subject, "tell me why you think you'd be a good fit for this position."

She takes a breath. "Because I love children. I understand them, I respect them, even the very young ones. I believe in creating a nurturing, stimulating environment where they feel safe and loved and free to explore." She meets my eye. "And because I know what it's like to lose that connection, that family. I understand how important it is to build it back, to create a new normal."

Her words hit home.

A silence lingers for a second before she meets my gaze. "And William? What is his situation?"

I swallow hard. "His mother was my stepmother, Stacy. My dad remarried a couple of years ago, to a much younger woman.They..." I let out a breath. "They were killed in a car accident three days ago. William was at home with a sitter."

Her expression shifts, not just with sympathy, but with something deeper, a pain that seems to echo my own. Her blue eyes well up, and she takes a shaky breath. "I'm so incredibly sorry. That's devastating. For you and for him, so small, to lose both his parents at the same time." She can't seem to meet my eyes.

A cry pierces the quiet.I rise instantly. "Excuse me."

I hurry to the nursery. William wails, his face red and contorted with distress. I check his diaper; it's clean. I just fed him, it wasn't easy, but he got a bottle down, before Daisy showed up. I try to burp him, which only makes him more upset.

There's a soft knock, and I look up to see Daisy standing in the doorway. Her brows knit together with concern and sadness. "Is he alright?"

I shake my head. "I don't know what's wrong. He won't calm down."

Daisy looks at William. "He's grieving," Her voice comes out soft, tears glisten in her eyes. "Even at this age, they know. They feel the absence. His mother; her scent, her heartbeat. It's all gone. He doesn't understand why, but he feels it, this huge, terrifying loss, a void where she once was always. It's not only about being fed or changed. His world, her, has changed and there's no way to explain to him why it happened."

She's right, and I was only assuming he was functioning purely on survival instinct. "Can you help?" The words escape me.

She nods as she steps closer, her hands outstretched. "May I?"

I all but thrust William into her arms. She takes him and sits in the rocking chair, settling him against her chest. She holds him, one hand stroking his back, the other cradling his head.

"It's okay, little one," she whispers, her voice thick with unshed tears. "It's okay to be sad. To miss her. She loved you so,so much. She'll always be a part of you. It's okay to cry. You're safe. You're not alone." She begins to rock him, slow and steady, and then softly sings a lullaby, her voice gentle and clear.

My racing heart calms some as well, her voice like a balm for my anxiety.

And, slowly, William begins to calm. His cries subside to whimpers, then to soft sighs. He nuzzles into Daisy's shoulder.

I stand there, watching them. This quiet, unassuming Beta, who smells like nothing—that's unsettling—but there's something about her, about the way she holds William, her demeanor. She didn't come in here expecting things to change. She's just here to help.

I clear my throat. "You're hired. When can you start?"

Daisy looks up, startled. "Tomorrow. If that works for you."

"Tomorrow would be perfect."

She hums for a few moments, then rises and lays William down in his crib, tucking a light blanket around him. He stirs, then sighs.

We both stand there, watching him sleep.

"He should sleep for a while now."

I nod. "We should probably talk more. About things." I gesture toward the door.

We return to the dining room and take our seats.

"So," I begin, hesitating for a moment. "Living arrangements. We have a room. It’s… well, we were saving it in case we ever found an Omega for the pack." My face heats as I realize how that sounds. "But that’s not likely to happen anytime soon, so it’s yours if you want it. There’s a bed, but that’s about it for now. You can decorate it however you like."

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