Inside, Jaxon lies curled up on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket. His cheeks are flushed with a faint pink hue, a subtle sign of his fever. Poppy sits beside him, her book forgotten on the armrest as she gently brushes a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. When she looks up and sees us, she offers a small smile, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“He’s okay,” she says before any of us can speak. “Just running a slight fever, but Jake already checked him out. It’s just a mild virus that’s been going around among the younger ones. Two of the pups were sick with it earlier this week.”
I kneel down next to the couch, pressing the back of my hand against Jaxon’s forehead. He stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, letting out a tiny, fragile sigh that tugs at my heart. “He’s seemed more tired these last couple of days,” I whisper.
“Exactly,” Poppy confirms softly. “His body’s fighting it off. Keep him hydrated and let him rest. He’ll bounce back in a day or two.”
Ryder crouches beside me, his palm resting gently on Jaxon’s head. The fierce Alpha I know fades into something tender and protective as he strokes his hand over our son’s hair. “He’s burning up,” he murmurs quietly, more to himself than anyone else.
Poppy offers a reassuring smile. “Not dangerously so. He’ll be fine.”
The door opens again, and Callen, Parker, and Remy step inside, their faces etched with concern. Callen’s brow immediately furrows. “What’s going on?”
“Just a mild fever,” I reply quickly, hoping to ease their worries before Ryder can get more worked up. “Jake says it’s nothing serious.”
Still, they crowd closer, unable to resist checking on Jaxon. Parker leans over the back of the couch, his hand moving gently to brush Jaxon’s hair away from his face. “He’s flushed,” he murmurs. “We should take him home. He’ll rest better there.”
“I agree,” Ryder says firmly. “I’ll carry him.”
Before I can voice any objection, Ryder scoops Jaxon up with careful strength. Seeing him hold our son so effortlessly, a perfect balance of power and tenderness, hits me somewhere deep inside. Jaxon instinctively nestles into Ryder’s chest, his small hand clutching at the fabric of Ryder’s shirt.
Remy holds the door open for us but pauses to check Jaxon’s temperature himself, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “He’s warm, but breathing steady,” he says softly. “Jake wouldn’t have let him sleep if it was anything serious.”
“Still,” Callen adds quietly, “we’ll keep a close watch on him tonight.”
Poppy shoots me a knowing glance as we watch these strong, capable wolves transform into worried caretakers over a simple fever. It’s almost endearing. I remember when Jaxon had his first fever-I was just as helpless.
I give Poppy a grateful hug before following the men out.
The walk back to the house is slow and silent. Ryder cradles Jaxon against his chest the entire way, whispering soft words I can’t quite catch but feel deeply through the bond we share. On the other side, Remy walks alert, scanning the dark tree line as if any shadow might threaten to snatch us away.
When we reach our cabin, Callen rushes ahead to unlock the door. Inside, Ryder carries Jaxon straight upstairs, laying him gently on the bed and pulling the blanket snugly up to his chin. Jaxon doesn’t wake, only sighing softly as he turns onto his side and nestles into the pillow.
For several minutes, no one speaks. We all simply watch, listening to Jaxon’s steady, even breathing.
Remy is the first to crouch beside him, adjusting the blanket with careful fingers. “I’ll check on him later tonight,” he promises quietly. “Make sure the fever doesn’t spike.”
Parker remains standing nearby, his gaze focused and calm. “He looks peaceful,” he murmurs. “That’s a good sign-he’s not in pain.”
Callen lets out a low breath, running a hand through his hair. “I won’t lie, I was worried when I first saw him like that.”
“He’ll be okay,” Ryder says with quiet confidence. “He’s strong. Just like his mum.”
I add with a smile, “And his dad.”
Ryder looks up at me, a flicker of raw emotion passing behind his eyes before he turns back to Jaxon. He sits on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, completely absorbed in watching over our son. Every protective instinct in him is alive and alert.
I see it in the way his hand lingers nearby, ready to soothe if Jaxon stirs. In the way his eyes flick between Jaxon’s chest and face, making sure each breath is easy and calm.
The Alpha is gone now; all that remains is a father, devoted and watchful.
Parker disappears briefly into the bathroom and returns with a cool, damp cloth. “For his forehead,” he says softly, pressing it gently against Jaxon’s skin.
Callen settles into the rocking chair we recently brought in for bedtime stories, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “You know,” he says quietly, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say the kid’s milking it-getting all the attention. That’s what I used to do when I was little.”
I chuckle softly. “Maybe if he were awake enough to enjoy it.”
Remy leans against the wall, a small smile playing on his lips. “Still, he’s got the right idea. Surrounded by all of us, spoiled and safe.”
Ryder looks up at him, amusement softening his usually serious face. “That’s exactly what he deserves. And he’s not the only one who deserves to be spoiled,” he says, reaching out to squeeze my hand gently.
Callen scoffs playfully, and Parker hums in agreement.
A swell of love rises in my chest as I watch these men-each so different, yet bound by fierce loyalty and love. It warms something deep inside me.
I used to think family was fragile, something I could lose if I let myself believe in it too much. But now, watching Ryder stroke Jaxon’s hair, Parker quietly folding the blanket’s edge, Remy checking his pulse out of habit, and Callen filling the silence with dry humor, I finally understand what family truly means.
It’s this. It’s them.
They aren’t just my mates-they’re protectors, fathers, anchors. And I realize with a weight settling in my chest that each one of them will make an incredible dad someday.
Ryder catches me staring and that familiar smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “What?”
“Nothing,” I say softly, shaking my head. “Just… thinking how lucky Jax is.”
He tilts his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “You mean how lucky we are.”
That earns a smile from me. “That too.”
I let my fingertips trail lightly through Jaxon’s hair, feeling the warmth of his skin and the steady rhythm of his little heart. My boys, I think, glancing around the room at all of them. And in that moment, I know with absolute certainty that when this nightmare ends-when the hunters are gone and peace finally settles over us-I want more than just survival.
I want to give them all this again. A chance to be fathers, to watch their legacy live on.
My earlier fears seem foolish now. Of course, I want more children-I always have. I just let fear and mistrust cloud my heart after being burned twice. But these men, my mates, are different. They would lay down their lives before letting harm come to those they love.
How could I deny them something so pure?
Ryder squeezes my hand gently, as if reading my thoughts. “He’ll be fine,” he whispers.
“I know,” I reply softly. “He’s got all of you watching over him.”
He leans closer, his voice barely above a breath. “And you.”
More Kickass Werewolf Reads
Dive into our collection of free werewolf romance novels—where fierce Alphas, daring heroines, and heart-stopping twists await. Every story burns with forbidden desire, loyalty, and destiny. Don’t wait—here’s a world where love bites hard and nothing is stronger than the call of the mate.
Leave a Reply