Page 110 of The Feral Alpha
The sight of Olson and their tiny baby brought a surge of feelings into Rex’s chest. Olson’s lower lip wobbled. “Isaac,” Olson murmured, cradling their son carefully. At the sound of his voice, Isaac stopped crying, turning his head as though in search of Olson. He had Olson’s nose. “I’m here. With your papa. We’re both so glad to have you with us.”
Rex held his breath, carefully setting his hand on Isaac’s back. He trailed his scent over their son, and Olson too. “Ours.”
Olson beamed. He cradled Isaac for longer, then handed him over to Rex to hold so he could continue to push. Rex’s heart tumbled. Isaac was so small and fragile in his arms.
Rex hated that he couldn’t hold Olson’s hand while he was carrying Isaac. Instead he leaned in, pressing his arm against Olson’s shoulder so they had some skin contact. So Olson knew Rex was still with him, supporting him.
Olson looked up into Rex’s eyes. He pushed exhaustedly, over and over until their second baby slid out of him, too. Both of them heaved a sigh of relief.
“Thank fuck,” Olson said.
“No bad words,” Rex whispered in his ear, grinning. “You’re perfect.”
Olson reached up. Rex placed Isaac back on Olson’s chest. Then the midwife came over with their second wailing child, laying her next to Isaac.
“A beautiful girl,” she said.
“Laura,” Olson choked, cradling both babies in his arms. Rex helped him hold them so they wouldn’t slide off him; Olson’s chest wasn’t nearly wide enough for two newborns.
“Welcome, Laura,” Rex rumbled. Laura’s wails quietened, too. “Ours.”
“She looks like you.” Olson’s lashes were wet with tears. Rex leaned in to kiss them off, and he kissed their babies, too.
“Isaac look like you,” Rex answered.
They smiled at each other, tired but happy. Something clicked into place in Rex’s chest, that he’d never thought he was missing before.
With the babies born, with Olson alive and proud next to him, Rex knew that they’d finally gotten the life they were meant to have. The life that they’d once hoped for, and fought hard for.
“I guess this is our happy ending,” Olson whispered against Rex’s lips.
“Beginning,” Rex whispered back. “Life together. Just beginning.”
EPILOGUE
The five-year-olds raced through the backyard, screeching in delight.
“Not those flowers,” Olson cried, running after them. “Don’t pull the flowers!”
“It’s okay,” Emmy said, waving excitedly. “Flowers are meant to be pulled!”
Olson cringed. “Okay, you can pull the flowers, but only in Uncle Varrick and Uncle Emmy’s backyard. Nowhere else!”
Rex grinned, hugging Olson from the back to calm him down. “Let them pull flowers,” Rex whispered. “Varrick grew them for pulling.”
Olson sagged against him with a sigh. “I just don’t want them to think they can pull flowers everywhere.”
The twins joined Emmy and Varrick’s children, and all of them tumbled onto the grass in a fit of giggles. Olson sighed again, his resolve thinning when the children were so happy. “Well, you can tell them not to pull flowers when we’re elsewhere.”
“I will,” Rex said, kissing Olson’s ear.
Olson smiled and turned so their lips met.
Five years had flown by in the blink of an eye. There had been a lot of sleepless nights caring for teething and sick babies, but also nights where their parents stepped in to help, to give them breaks to catch up on sleep.
There had been first smiles, first teeth, first steps, and first words. The twins learning to walk, then run. Outgrowing all their clothes rapidly. Feeding themselves, going to kindergarten for the first time. Learning more and more words until they were talking nonstop.
Through it all, Rex had been by his side.