Page 195 of Pack Baby for the Silver Foxes

Pax had the same dangerous cheekbones as his brother, Hudson, but he had a colder beauty, dark blond hair, sharp blue-gray eyes. Mateus stood beside him, tall, dark, and amused, wearing a navy suit and the look of a man who had read every document twice.

Mac stood in front of Maeve and me at the end row. He was with the twins, having appointed himself child supervisor and he was taking pride in the role. He was older now, tall for his age, dark hair falling into his eyes, still calling his fathers Daddy A, Daddy I, and Daddy G, and now treating the family joke about his own superpowers as simple fact.

Mila stood beside him holding Violet’s hand, bossing both twins in a whisper so fierce that Rain blinked and Violet nodded solemnly. She was just like her mother.

Fergus lay under the front row wearing a black bowtie and resting his chin on Gregor’s shoe as he glanced at the children.

Duchess, the estate Doberman who had apparently come because Mac said she was family, lay beside Fergus with a floral clip fastened proudly to her collar. She nuzzled the smaller dog whenever Fergus looked too pleased with himself, which meant she nuzzled him often.

Maeve caught me staring.

“Don’t ask,” she said.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

I waved at Sienna who sat in the back row, wearing a dress she had complained about twice but looked extremely well in, despite now refusing to remove her coat. She had also refused to explain why she kept checking her phone.

The music started.

“Ready,” Maeve whispered, offering me her elbow.

“More than ever.” I took my first step to my alphas.

We made vows, but not the old kind. We had written them ourselves because no template could cover us without sounding as if it had panicked halfway through.

Hudson went first.

He took my hand, his thumb brushing my rings. “Mary,” he said, voice steady and full. “I promise to love you. I promise to protect you without building a cage around you. I promise to stand beside you, behind you, and occasionally in front of you when you’re about to argue with men who might fly helicopters.”

Laughter moved through the room.

I glanced at Artem. I wondered what he really had done or said to Callum McCarthy. Whatever it was, he looked completely unrepentant.

Hudson’s hand tightened. “I promise to choose you, every day, in every room, under every law we can bend toward us. You are my omega, my partner, my family, and the best unexpected thing that ever walked into my life and demanded whiskey.”

My eyes filled.

Then Lincoln took my other hand. He didn’t try to hide his tears. “Love,” he said, rough and soft at once. “I promise you warmth, food, laughter, and my hand in yours when the world gets too loud. I promise our children will know their mother is adored. I promise no one will make you smaller in this house. You’ll not fear anyone.”

My breath caught.

Lincoln smiled, his thumb moving over my knuckles. “I promise that when you forget, I will remind you that you were wanted before the babies, after the babies, and in every life I can imagine.”

My world blurred. I’d planned vows, written them down, and even rehearsed them with Presley, who had cried so dramatically the first time that I had accused her of undermining the rehearsal process.

Still, when I looked at Hudson and Lincoln, I forgot the first line.

Then Violet sneezed.

Rain said, “Bless you.”

Everyone laughed.

And I was back. “I used to think being chosen was something that happened to other women,” I said. “Women who were easier, warmer, and sensible enough not to knock on strangers’ hotel doors with emergency equipment.”

Hudson laughed.

“I thought love had conditions,” I continued. “Be useful. Be quiet. Be grateful. Don’t ask for too much. Don’t be too much. Then I met both of you, and you ruined my belief system.”