Page 14 of Tamed Wolf

He shrugs and I just don’t even fucking care. Not worth fighting over. That’s all we’ve done since we cut the bonds with Lark.

It could have been any baby cry anywhere, but somehow, I know it belongs to my son. Nobody notified us when he was born, so we just waited a little extra to make sure we were well past the possible due date before showing up.

Seeing her hurts much worse than I expected.

I thought sending here would free all of us up to live lives separately so we could just move on from a terrible pairing by the goddess, but time hasn’t done her any damn favors.

Her hair is greasy, and her clothes are old and don’t fit right, and the bags under her eyes feel like a mirror of my own. But I know she’s got it worse, because she had to go through the whole pregnancy and childbirth and recovery process without anyone there to care for her.

I’ve never deserved her, and that is so glaringly obvious right now.

I reach out and she pulls back, the accusation in her eyes loud.

“Why aren’t you wearing anything we sent? I thought we sent in some clothes a few weeks ago when your body became your own again.”

She glares at Trevor, and I simply rub the bridge of my nose.

“Do either of you even know how to take care of a baby? Do you know the first thing about feeding schedules or diapering or formula? I’m breastfeeding him and he’s going to be pissed when you take me away and try to give him a bottle. Do you have a crib with a safe sleep space, and are you aware he wakes about 4-5 times a night for food or diaper changes? You do realize how much babies cry, right?”

“We’re not here to take him, Lark.”

She narrows her eyes at me, challenging me. “Then why the fuck are you here? No one wants you here.”

“Wasn’t expecting a warm welcome,” I smirk. “I wanted to see him. Wanted to see you. This idiot found out and demanded to tag along.”

“Well, you’ve seen us both. You can rest easy knowing I was capable enough to give birth and that we’re both still breathing, no thanks to either of you.” She turns and starts to stalk out, my hollow arms aching.

“Wait, can I…can I just hold him? Please? If he’s the only one I’m going to get, I want to know what it’s like to hold him when he’s still so small.”

“Glad you’re admitting you’re not getting anywhere near me again.”

“We don’t have to make this difficult, you know? We made our choices, and you made yours. I’d like to be able to keep you in his life when we’re ready to bring him home, but if you can’t be decent to us, I don’t know how that’s going to work.” The words hurt as they spew from my mouth, but dealing with her just makes me fucking crazy, always has. I don’t know what it is about the girl that just zaps every ounce of compassion I have, but it’s a damn talent.

She steps towards us but the venom in her eyes is clearer than the ugly specks on the linoleum tile we’re standing on.

“Coercion. Classy. If you want to touch him, you need to wash your hands first. I don’t know where the fuck those hands have been.”

I get up calmly and cuff Trevor on the back of the head to make him come with me, soaping up and drying them off without a single argument across the room at the kitchenette that was likely installed 30-40 years ago. I can respect that she’s trying to keep the baby healthy.

I extend my hands when I get close enough, tunnel vision on the bundle tucked close to her body. I can’t see his face the way she’s holding him, but I know it’s a boy. I’ve known since we found out she was pregnant. It’s like the goddess implanted the knowledge into my head.

She’s shaking as she hands him over, tears instantly flowing from her eyes like she’s imagining me running off with him and never looking back.

“You really love him, don’t you?”

“I grew him in my body for six months and spent day and night nourishing him from my body and caring for him. He’s the only bright spot I have left. Only a monster could go through everything I went through and not feel anything other than absolute adoration for the child they went through it for.”

I relax a bit, because if nothing else, I know she’s a good mom, even if she is young.

The second I get a look at his wrinkly little face and those hazel eyes that are a near direct translation of mine blink open, all the frustrations from the last few months melt away. I created something good. Me, a total fuckup that can’t do a damn thing right.

“He’s perfect,” I say in awe.

Even Trevor is silent as he takes in our son. He leans forward and kisses his tiny little forehead, and I can almost feel the flashes he’s experiencing of those early days when we first found Lark and felt hope. Because I’m experiencing them too. There may be a decent future for us yet.

“I feel like I could stare at him all day,” I admit.

Trevor snaps some pictures of us together, and then he gets to hold him while I snap some pictures, and it’s then I realize I haven’t even asked what she named him.

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