Mated to the Warrior Beast

It wasn’t fair, and not the way Zev usually handled himself, but he ordered the packs to provide a cave for his family. He knew that likely meant a lower-ranked Alpha had been sent to the tents. But after what they’d been through, Zev needed something solid at his back if he was going to be able to rest.

He didn’t feel like sleeping at all, of course. But giving himself the best chance was wise. And Sasha… Sasha was exhausted. Swaying on her feet by the time they’d finished eating dinner. She sighed with relief when they were shown to a small, but warm cave on the edge of the encampment, near where Lhars and Kyelle bedded. It was twenty feet up a path that followed the foot of a rise, and positioned in such a way that it couldn’t be seen until you were almost standing in front of it, which gave Zev added relief.

He ordered guards at the base of the trail that led to it, and others positioned above them, hoping that might help him rest, too.

Sasha almost wept when they walked inside to find a small fire already crackling merrily in a hollow at its center, and thick furs on the stone floor at its back.

For the first time since high moon the night before, she took Zan out of the sling and curled him into a fur nest near where they would lay.

But the moment he was taken from her chest, he started to stir and make small cries, even when his eyes never opened.

At first he was undisturbed—this had happened a lot in the past few days and nights that had been so stressful.

But as he stood there in the glow of the fire and watched his mate lay next to their son, humming to him and laying a hand on his chest so he’d know she was there, Zev was all of the sudden stunned.

.....

This was his family, he realized. His pack. This was his mate. His son. Forever.

Everything they’d done, everything they’d endured… it had all been for this. And here they were, finally among their own people, with their son—safe enough to be heavy on his mate’s weaker body, and strong enough to bellow a wail when he felt the loss of her warmth.

He stumbled towards them, his knees giving way as he dropped to the stone next to the furs, his breath coming too fast.

Family. He had a family.

“Sash,” he breathed. “He’s our son. We have a son.” It was a stupid thing to say. So obvious—and something they’d been discussing and fighting for for months. But in that moment, watching her with Zan… it hit him like a boulder crashing down a hill.

He had a son.

Sasha, obviously hearing the awe in his tone, looked up at him, tears making her lashes shine, and his heart clenched.

“I know,” she said, smiling despite her quivering chin. “I just wish… I just wish we could focus on that instead of… everything else. I just want you to be able to rest, Zev.”

A thin whine curled out of his throat. His mate was haggard. Her hair dim and lank. Dark shadows smudged under her eyes making her look like she’d been punched. The tears made those same eyes shine, but they were bloodshot, her skin dry and dull too.

She was at the end of her ability to cope, yet she wasn’t complaining—she was worried about him?

He reached over their son to cup her face. “I’m fine,” he said, ignoring the laughing voice in the back of his head, mocking him for the lie. “I think you’re the one who needs a rest, babe.”

She rolled her eyes, but the tears welled up and her face crumpled in a way that broke his heart.

Zev growled and quickly got up to move around to sit behind her, on the furs, and pull her into his arms.

Zan protested the loss of his mother’s comforting hand, but Zev shushed him—or maybe shushed them both. Because Sasha didn’t argue when he gathered her up, but turned to face him and sank into his chest, clinging to him, shivering.

“Shhhhhh, babe, it’s okay. We made it. We finally made it,” he whispered, stroking her hair and rocking her.

But Sasha just threw her arms around his neck, buried her face in the hollow where his neck met his shoulder and cried, the heart-rending sobs shuddering through her entire body.

Behind her, Zan began to wail too, and for a moment, Zev’s heart beat too fast—who to comfort first?

But Sasha only sniffed, then turned quickly to gather up their son, and then pressed both of them into Zev’s chest.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Zev turned her so that he cradled her in his lap, and Zan in hers, then held them both as tightly as he dared, letting his lips press to Sasha’s forehead while with one arm, he held Zan close and cupped Sasha’s ass to hold her against him.

Zan settled almost immediately, curled into the warm pocket between his mother and father, and Zev almost wept himself, staring down at their son while he held his mate until her sobs passed and she slumped into his embrace.

“He’s so handsome. He’s going to look just like you,” she whispered, one arm tightening on Zev’s back, while she stroked their son’s thick hair with the other hand.

“Lhars will be so pissed,” he joked, then sobered quickly when he realized his brother, mated to Kyelle who’d been sterilized by the humans, would never experience this moment that still had him swallowing a lump that wanted to close his throat.

Sasha sighed heavily, obviously having the same thought. But neither of them voiced it. To Zev it was just one more reason to be grateful for what he had.

And one more reason to defend his family to his last breath.

That thought took him back to the conflicts they faced, which made him tense. But Sasha must have heard his thoughts, because she lifted the hand from the now-sleeping Zan and cupped Zev’s chin, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“Not tonight,” she said, her eyes shining and red and shadowed. “Tonight it’s just us. Let’s just focus on that, okay?”

Zev nodded, though the weight of a lie settled on his chest as she sighed wearily and let her head drop back against his shoulder again.

“I love you, Zev,” she murmured.

“I love you too, Sash,” he replied, his voice thick again. And even though the tears that threatened were painful, they were also a relief. Because they meant he could still feel. She did still reach him. And Zan too.

He wasn’t cold, he thought with relief. Not completely.