Chapter 215: Extra Chapter: 1
"I have two kids now. Just two beautiful boys—one-week-old twins," I said, looking down at them with a tired smile, my arms aching from their combined weight. The nursery was warm, filled with the soft glow of the bedside lamp and the faint scent of baby powder, fresh linens, and that unmistakable new-milk tang.
My youngest, Elias, was nestled against my chest, his tiny fist clutching my shirt, while his brother, Theo, dozed in the crook of my elbow, his breaths a fragile puff against my skin—both still so small, their skin translucent and veined, eyes barely opening to the world after just seven days.
"Honestly, I love them, but they make me feel like a cow."
I sighed deeply, shifting Elias to ease the pull in my shoulders and the tender ache from round-the-clock nursing. Milk stains dotted my oversized shirt, a badge of the endless feeds since their dramatic arrival. "Fine, they’re babies. Of course they need milk. That part makes sense."
Then I glanced up at the five alphas hovering around me like a pack of overprotective wolves, their tall frames crowding the small room, and huffed in exasperation. "But I also have five more babies to deal with. These damn alphas are worse than the actual children."
My husbands immediately erupted in protest, their voices overlapping in a symphony of mock outrage—careful, though, to keep it hushed for the fragile newborns.
"Excuse me?" Hellen shot back first, her sharp eyes narrowing as she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her broad chest.
"I am not a baby," Reyes added, her voice a low growl laced with offense. She paced a step closer, hands on her hips—though she froze when Theo stirred, the fiery artist in her yielding instantly.
Ivory crossed her arms. "You say that like we’re the problem," she rumbled, her deep timbre vibrating softly. The quiet enforcer, her eyes soft on the week-old bundles.
Ana’s full mouth twitched into a smirk, her skin glowing under the lamp as she adjusted her stance. "We are not the ones making dramatic speeches while holding newborns." Ever the smooth talker, her scent stronger now, laced with the new-parent vigilance.
Lily looked at me with fond exasperation. "You literally chose all five of us, love. Remember the marriage ceremony? And now these two perfect ones."
I pointed at them one by one, my finger wobbling from fatigue. "And you all act like overgrown toddlers. Hellen, you’re pacing like you need a nap. Reyes, stop glaring—it’s not scary. Ivory, uncross those arms before you break the crib. Ana, your smirks aren’t helping. And Lily, don’t ’love’ me right now; fetch a blanket."
That set them all off, talking over each other in a glorious, whispered cacophony that made the twins stir faintly.
"We are not toddlers!" Hellen insisted, though she stopped pacing.
"You’re the one who refuses to rest after that birth," Reyes countered, grabbing a pillow to fluff it dramatically—but gently.
"You keep calling for help and then yelling at us," Ivory grumbled, finally unfolding her arms to reach for fussing Theo.
"You said you wanted five alphas—your exact words!" Ana laughed, her voice rich and hushed.
"I did not know they would all become this clingy!" I shot back, half-laughing despite myself.
The twins made small, sleepy sounds then—tiny whimpers that melted the tension like butter, their week-old cries more breath than wail.
I looked down at them, brushing a kiss over Elias’s downy head. "At least these two are cute when they cry."
Ana stepped closer, her scent wrapping around me like a hug. She leaned in and kissed my temple softly, her lips lingering. "And what about us?"
I gave her a deadpan look, though my cheeks warmed. "You’re cute only when you’re quiet."
The room dissolved into soft chuckles, the alphas drawing in closer—not hovering now, but a protective circle. Lily draped the blanket over my legs with gentle hands, while Ivory carefully lifted Theo to burp him, her strong arms cradling him like fragile glass.
"Rest now," she murmured. "You’ve been through hell birthing these two."
Reyes nodded, dimming the lamp further. "Yeah, that labour was brutal, and you screamed too much. Let us handle them for now."
I leaned back against the pillows, every muscle screaming from the lingering soreness, thigh region pulling with each shift, hormones crashing like waves. The first week had been a blur of cluster feeds, swollen everything, and bone-deep fatigue that made my vision blur.
"You think I don’t want to? My body’s a wreck. Feet like balloons, leaks everywhere, and I can’t even sneeze without panic."
Hellen knelt by the bed, pressing a cool cloth to my forehead. "That’s why we’re here. Water? Pain meds? That heating pad for your back?"
"Water," I rasped, accepting the glass Ana handed over. The cool liquid soothed my parched throat. Lily massaged my shoulders, her touch firm yet soothing, easing knots I didn’t know were there.
"See? We’re not all toddlers," Ana teased, settling beside me to take Elias, nestling him against her chest. "But seriously—tell us what hurts. We’re your husbands."
Tears pricked my eyes then, the exhaustion cracking open something raw. "I just want your support, okay?" My voice broke, small and needy in the quiet room. "Not the jokes or the hovering—just... be here. Hold me together when I fall apart."
The air shifted, their scents mingling into a comforting blanket—strength, calm, fire, strategy, softness. Hellen squeezed my hand. "Always. No questions."
Reyes perched on the bed’s edge, threading fingers through mine. "We’re not going anywhere. Cry, yell, sleep—we’ve got you."
Ivory nodded, Theo settled and snoring softly in her hold. "Support. That’s the vow."
Lily brushed my hair back. "Lean on us, love. You’re not alone."
Ana pulled me gently against her side, the twins safe between us.
"We will always be there for you, our little wife."
"Don’t worry, Emily. You can just lean on us."
"Thank you, everyone. I love you all."
