Page 48 of Protected By Her Wolves

Epilogue

Amara

Amara stood by theback doors, looking out the windows at the dark morning sky while sipping her coffee. She couldn’t see Drasko, though she knew he was nearby. She could hear him shoveling snow off the driveway. Annie had spent the night with Tatiana at her mates’ parents’ house. Hakon and Luc had left early for a meeting with Tor and Agent Johnson. Amara tried not to worry about what news Johnson had about the Russians. If they had discovered that the American Army had shifters spying for them, every shifter in the world would be in danger, especially her Romanian family.

Luc was technically still on leave after being home all week, though he was working just as hard from home. The Amaroki trackers hadn’t gone on any new missions since the Russian attack. It wasn’t worth the risk until intel briefed them on the contents of the Russians’ computers. Hakon was still on leave from his job. She was so relieved their pack was whole, though he would have to return to work soon.

She rubbed her belly, feeling the slightest bump, though it could’ve been her imagination. Since pregnant Amaroki females only carried their babies for five months, she had four months and three weeks to go. It was still hard to believe it had been a week since their helicopter had been shot down and two American pilots had lost their lives. Luc had told her those pilots had young families, children that would never know their fathers.

She swallowed back a lump of sorrow while looking over at Hrod and Alexi. They were both in their high chairs, making a mess of their eggs. Rone had introduced them to ketchup, so now their faces, hands, and chests were covered in sauce. Before the crash, she would’ve fussed over the mess. Now, she was so grateful she was alive to watch her children discover new foods. Alexi, being Alexi, had already thrown his bottle on the floor, which meant Amara would need to nurse him soon.

After Rone cleaned Hrod and set him on the floor, Amara went to the sofa and unbuttoned her shirt, her breasts hardening in anticipation of feeding her child.

“No, Hrod,” Rone scolded. “That’s Alexi’s bottle.”

She turned around to see Hrod sitting on the floor drinking out of Alexi’s bottle. Alexi let out an angry squeal, his high chair rattling the floor as he reached over the side for the bottle.

“Alexi,” she said to her son. “I thought you didn’t want it.”

“My!” he cried, reaching for the bottle again, this time shaking the floor so hard the dishes rattled.

When Rone took the bottle from Hrod, he cried out, stomping his feet.

“Sorry, buddy,” he said as he gave the bottle to Alexi. “Big boys don’t drink from the bottle.”

Alexi gave his brother a sour look and clutched the bottle like it was his blankie, but he refused to drink from it.

Little Hrod pouted, his eyes welling with tears.

“Hang on,” Amara said as she scooped Hrod into her arms and wiped his eyes. She took him to the kitchen and grabbed a spare bottle from the fridge, handing it to him.

“Tanks, Mommy,” Hrod said with a smile and started drinking from the bottle.

She gave him a kiss and set him down on the rug near his bucket of toys. She eyed Alexi as he started taking sips from his bottle, too, mirroring his brother’s moves. Thank the Ancients! “Why didn’t we think of this before?” she asked her gamma.

Rone scratched the back of his head. “You don’t remember how hard it was to transition Hrod from the bottle to a sippy cup?”

She chewed her bottom lip, watching Alexi guzzle his bottle like his father with a cold beer. “It couldn’t have been as hard as moving Alexi from breast to bottle.”

Rone’s shoulders fell. “You’re right.”

Amara released a long sigh while her boys drank from their bottles. After several broken dishes, a shattered door, and completely rearranging their décor, they’d finally figured it out. This would mean she’d need to pump more, but she didn’t mind. Anything was better than suffering through Alexi’s dangerous tantrums.

Rone cleaned Alexi and set him in his playpen with his bottle. Alexi laid down and drank as he drifted off to sleep. Amara sat on the sofa and pumped her breasts while watching Hrod and Rone build a tower with colorful blocks.

She’d just finished filling up the last bottle when Hakon and Luc came through the front door, Drasko following behind them.

Rone went to the kitchen and set three steaming cups of coffee on the kitchen bar. Hakon, Drasko, and Luc thanked him and sat down. Hrod continued to play with his blocks by himself. He was such a good little boy.

Drasko nodded toward Alexi drinking the bottle in his playpen. “When did this happen?”

“Just now,” she answered, unable to contain her smile.

Hakon frowned at Hrod. “I suppose it has to do with my son drinking a bottle, too.”

She gave Hakon a challenging look. “It does.”

“It won’t hurt him to drink from a bottle for a while,” Rone added.

---