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Gideon: Peace is an Illusion

He hurried while still being more careful than he ever had in his life, picking through the trees for the gentlest, most efficient path. Ivailo, his wolf, was in control because Gideon was a wreck, his panic thrumming twice as fast as his wolf could stride.

‘Hang on,’ he said through the bond, trying to reassure Eris.

He barely got the words out, because as soon as he opened the communication channel forged by that tendril of magic that tied their souls, agony exploded from her. Ivailo nearly tripped, and Gideon slammed the block back up. His black wolf picked up the pace, but Eris groaned on his back as she jostled around, her fingers digging deep into his fur.

River said something from her spot behind his mate, the witch asking Eris a hushed question. He glanced over his shoulder and saw she was trying to provide some support from the rough ride by holding firm on his wife’s swollen belly. Gideon didn’t know it then, but she was also counting the contractions this way. And they weren’t slowing down.

‘She won’t make it,’ Ivailo, his wolf, warned him, his gravelly voice level and calm.

‘What! How do you know?’

‘I’ve lived enough lives to know.’

As if to prove his other half right, Eris shouted, “I can’t! Stop!”

Ivailo skidded to a stop in a small clearing padded by pine needles, lying down so the witch could help Eris off his back. As soon as they were clear, he shifted. Gideon stood and stumbled to pull on his sweats and get to Eris at the same time.

She was kneeling, so he slid to his knees in front of her, his heart pinching at the look on her face. Her agony was etched there, while she whimpered and shook her head, whispering, “Here it comes, here it comes.”

Gideon put his hands on her waist and his heart jumped when he felt it, her body tensing as the soft belly he’d touched so much these past months turned to stone beneath his thumbs. She whimpered again several times throughout, and after what felt like an eternity, she relaxed in a huff of air against his chest, her belly softening again.

He was speechless, his mouth hanging open. Her pain frightened him. Other men had warned him it would be hard. Ivailo had warned him. He read and watched a million things beforehand that explained what to expect, and he was still stunned by the power of it.

‘It’s pain with a purpose,’ Ivailo reminded him.

A purpose. A baby. Two, actually.

“Eris, I’m right here,” he said in her ear, his eyes on the witch, who’d been busy clearing needles down to the fresh green grass beneath.

With power over the element of earth, he watched her place her hands on the ground and shred a good-sized patch of grass into small tendrils, like threads. They wove into each other, forming a tight-knit pad on the forest floor.

“It’s already here again,” Eris whined, and he wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or not.

“River?” he asked.

“Come sit with her between your legs, Alpha.”

“I have to move you—”

He started asking Eris what he could do to make it better for her, but she pushed out a shaky breath and shifted quickly to her feet, clawing up his body and throwing her arms around his neck so she was squatting in front of him.

She was taking deep breaths, and whimpered, “My back.”

Gideon knew exactly what she wanted because, thank the goddess, River had made them practice all this. He wrapped his hands around her hips and pressed his fingers into the small of her back, trying to apply some counterpressure to the contraction.

Her face was in the crook of his neck, dampening his skin with her sweat and tears. Gideon turned and kissed her on her temple, the only place he could.

“More,” she gasped, and he squeezed harder on her back. She shifted on her feet, and he felt it again, her belly tightening beneath his thumbs.

‘The breathing. Remember?’ Ivailo barked. ‘Come on, Gideon! We’ve learned all this!’

He started doing the counted breathing like River taught him and Eris, although you were supposed to start at the beginning of the contraction so he wasn’t sure if his timing was on. It surprised and encouraged him when she started following until some of her focus seemed to shift to the breaths. Like she was in a trance.

It lasted forever again, but Eris finally relaxed, sucking in a deep breath, and shouting, “River!”, followed by a sob, before she screamed, “HELP ME!”

It was the most desperate he’d ever heard her, and he couldn’t quell his horror at hearing her in such pain.

To his wolf, he said, ‘We’re never doing this again,’ and he received a knowing little chuckle as a response.

“Focus on the next breath,” River said, wiping the sweat from Eris’ forehead and rubbing her back.

Her face twisted with pain. “I think I need to push."

“Do you want to stay squatting or move to the mat? It’s your choice. I want you to do what feels natural.”

“… The mat.”

Gideon didn’t hesitate again, standing and picking her up, wincing while she whimpered but settling into a seated position with Eris slouched between his legs.

“My pants!” she whined, trying to rip off her soaked leggings.

Gideon watched River slide them off, and where Eris held his thighs he would no doubt bruise. But he didn’t care. He wished she could squeeze harder, and he could take some of her pain away.

“Here it comes,” Eris whispered.

“You’re going to bear down and push this time, Luna,” River said. “It will feel so good, I promise.”

She tensed and grunted, and he realized it was already happening. He kind of bore down too, holding tight to her knees and listening to River count.

“Seven, eight! Okay, deep breath and right back into it, push again. One, two…”

The contraction faded, and Eris relaxed, her head dropping back against his shoulder.

“You’re taking deep breaths, but not completely relaxing. Always bear down a little or you’ll lose progress,” River said, her hands busy between Eris’ legs doing whatever midwives did. “Take her shirt off, please, Alpha.”

Gideon helped Eris peel her shirt off over her head and handed it to River. It was the seventh of July, so the night was warm. He looked up. The smoke from the burning city nearby covered the moon, casting the small clearing in rust-colored beams.

“It’s coming again,” Eris said with a groan, and River nodded.

“Whenever you’re ready. Your body knows what it’s doing.”

She leaned forward and strained so hard her body shook. He supported her back and held her legs. Whatever felt right to stay afloat in the contractions that crested like waves. It seemed the ups and downs would never end, although later River would tell him Eris pushed forty-five minutes before the first baby was born. He’d felt it must have been forty-five hours.

The most recent wave ended, and she relaxed against him. He felt how slick her back was, and Gideon cleared the sweaty hair stuck to her cheek to kiss her red face, cradling her head on his shoulder.

''Here. Your baby is crowning,” the witch said with an uncharacteristically broad smile, grabbing Eris' hand and moving it to feel. “One, maybe two more pushes and you’ll both be parents.”

Gideon watched his wife’s face relax in a soft smile, her eyes closed, and his throat tightened with emotion. He could feel it brewing, though, her body coiling, and he held fast to her knees as her nails dug into his forearms, using them like handles to bear down.

Watching from his vantage point above Eris, he knew he’d never be the same after that moment. It was the most horrific and beautiful thing he’d ever witnessed.

Gideon blinked rapidly as a tiny, squished head appeared, and River shouted, “Good, Luna! A little more!”

Eris cried out, something he could only describe as a warrior woman scream, and it was like he blinked once and the baby’s entire body was suddenly there. He saw first it was a girl, and she was wailing, her little face blotchy and angry.

The shrill cry filled his ears, and a slow smile spread across his face. River laid the baby on Eris’ chest and used the inside of the shirt he’d help her take off to wipe her blotchy little face.

“Wow, wow, oh goddess, wow… wow,” he whispered, unsure how many times he’d said it without realizing.

Eris sobbed, clutching the baby, and his hand was over hers, both of them holding their daughter.

“Easy push,” River said, and he felt Eris bear down.

For some stupid reason he expected another baby, but River lifted the afterbirth and placed it on his daughter’s tummy. Gideon swallowed when he had to grab ahold of it, put off by the bloody fibrous blob.

‘Oh, grow up, boy, you’re a wolf,’ Ivailo muttered.

Eris groaned, and River said, “Baby two is breech.”

He straightened, panic popping like a burst bubble in his chest. “What do we do?”

“I’ve delivered breech babies before, the second twin especially. Don’t worry, I just wanted you to know you’re going to see feet first.”

It was much faster this time, and he watched wide eyed as River manipulated the baby during the contractions, starting with the feet. A boy, he saw midway. His son.

Gideon wasn’t sure if he breathed, and any outside sounds disappeared to the roar of his racing heart. His instincts sensed something wasn’t quite right in the way the baby moved.

“What is happening?” he demanded.

“His heart is doing things I don’t like,” the witch muttered, and then louder, “come on, Eris, big push. Let’s get him out.”

Gideon watched and the answer presented in the umbilical cord, wrapped not once but twice around the baby’s neck.

River immediately removed it, laying his son on the mat, where he was quiet.

“You’re alright, pup, take a deep breath,” the witch said quietly, clearing his airways and rubbing his chest in circles.

“Gideon?”

He looked down and saw Eris was watching him, studying his reactions with her eyes full of tears.

“She’s helping him. It’s okay,” he said, impressing himself with how calm he sounded. “He’s—”

Gideon didn’t have to finish because the baby’s sharp cry echoed in the surrounding trees. He and Eris smiled, her worry turning to joyful tears. Greedily, he dropped the block, having been told by his tailor, of all people, to open the bond right away if he wanted to experience euphoria. A mother’s first moments with her children.

Emotion swelled, flooding like a fresh mountain river in the springtime. An unstoppable force. His eyes filled as he watched his wailing son laid in Eris’ free arm, and he shifted to help her hold them both. He could feel she was still in pain, but the bliss was so overwhelming it was like an echo.

“He’s okay?” Gideon asked.

“Oh, yes,” River said, smiling and running her fingers over the baby’s head, “just a little stunned by the quick eviction. Eris, you could not have done better. I’m so impressed. Now hold tight, you four, and I will be right back.”

River disappeared, flashing away, and he glanced at their baby girl, who had quieted. Gideon nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn’t spent extensive time around newborns, but he didn’t remember their eyes being open at all, let alone so wide. Only minutes old and she was staring at him with bright yellow eyes, as if she could see straight into his soul.

“Look,” Eris whispered, giggling gently, and he turned back to find their boy had calmed and was doing an excellent impression of a starving fish at his mother’s covered breast.

Gideon elongated a claw and cut both straps of her sports bra. “Here.”

Working together to hold both the babies, they shifted until her bra was down, but quickly learned breastfeeding wasn’t as smooth as it may appear. Natural did not mean easy.

“No, up here,” he said to his son, who was fishing in the wrong direction now. Having more freedom with his hands, Gideon tried to help by moving the baby, but realized it was more difficult than he could’ve ever expected.

“He’s so floppy,” Eris whispered.

“Yes, but so strong somehow.”

They’d picked names, and he chose the one that seemed right to him. Laughing in astonishment at the strength of such a tiny being, he said, “My gods, Henry, calm down,” because every time he got close, the baby grew wild, thrashing his head and adding a moving target to an already difficult task.

They were both giggling and trying to get it right. Once, the baby got a latch, but Eris yelped with pain and jerked away.

‘You’ve got to move her breast instead of the pup… and squish it. Her breast, not the pup,’ Ivailo said.

‘Excuse me?’

‘You know…’ he said, and Gideon could feel him searching for the right words, ‘like when you eat a tall sandwich and you have to squish it to take a big bite. His mouth is small.’

“Uh,” he said aloud to Eris, “my wolf is giving me some candid advice, but I’m not sure about it.”

“They probably know better than us,” she said, and Ivailo huffed in his head. Eris adjusted Henry in her arm, turning him so he was belly to belly with her, and he sensed she was following instructions from her wolf.

“Okay,” he muttered, and grabbed her breast with his hand, trying to do like his wolf said.

‘Gentle! My goddess, you’re not killing vampires here. Yes, big bite, shove it in there.’

‘Be gentle and shove it in there?’ Gideon asked dryly.

'Shut up,’ Ivailo barked, ‘and it’s a roll of the wrist, bottom gum to top. Think about how your mouth is shaped.’

Somehow those things combined with what he’d read over the last months, and it made sense as Gideon did it. After two tries, he got it, and Henry and Eris relaxed into each other.

He knew he’d scored major points when she looked up at him with the rawest expression of love he’d ever seen. The feelings flooding the bond after that were the most intense and overwhelming of his life, in the best way.

Gideon flushed with pride. More than he could ever have expected to know. He pushed it through the bond to her, awed by her, and glad to be a shifter, where words that could never justify weren’t necessary. He could just show her how he felt.

‘The pine and grass and dirt. This is good, Gideon. This is how wolf pups should be born,’ Ivailo said, practically humming with happiness.

A calm had enveloped them, a peace, and he was almost spiteful when River appeared.

“Sorry it took longer than expected.” She smiled when she saw the fully latched baby. “It looks like you’re doing fine without me.”

“My wolf knew what to do,” he said, chuckling.

“An alpha wolf acted as your lactation consultant?”

“He did.”

“Well, this might be the most impressed I’ve ever been because of an alpha wolf.”

No small compliment, considering her age. Ivailo chuckled, pleased with himself and with the bounty of blessings they held in their arms.

“Thank you so much, River,” Gideon said, not willing to imagine what that would’ve been like if he’d had to do all that alone.

“You’re welcome. I love bringing babies into the world. Now, as long as you’re okay, Luna, we’re not in a rush,” River said, adding a couple drops of herbal oil to a washbasin. Only then did he notice how much blood there was, and how it was everywhere, on his hands and arms.

“I feel incredible,” Eris said, her eyes welling with tears again.

“This is a lovely time, so enjoy it. Don’t worry about what I’m doing, I’m just cleaning up. First though,” River said, digging around in a bag and finding clamps she used on the umbilical cords, “go ahead, Alpha.”

Using his claw again, he cut the cords, stunned by their rubbery resilience. The babies weren’t upset by it like he expected they’d be, much to his relief.

“Ceres Diane,” Eris said, looking down at the wide-eyed baby girl and naming her after their mothers, “and Henry Gaylon Greenwood,” for their fathers.

Studying their daughter, Gideon said, “I can already tell Ceres is special, like you.”

“With your bloodlines, I’m not surprised,” River answered with a furrowed brow, staring at the baby girl who stared back at her. “And here, on this red moon night, where too much innocent blood soaks the ground, I’d be stunned if either of them is normal.”

✨🌙✨

Gideon opened his eyes, staring at the white canopy of their bed.

“That was an emotional dream,” Eris whispered next to him, lacing their fingers.

“I was in a pine forest on a hot summer night, witnessing an entirely unique kind of magic while Diamond Moon smoldered behind us on the horizon.”

Dragons had torched their neighboring pack on that seventh of July, destroying any in their path without discretion.

Afterwards, Gideon had made it his mission to kill them all. He and Eris and their companions defeated that evil for a better world to raise their children. But it didn’t matter, because Ceres was still gone, taken from him—taken from his packhouse—without a trace of a suspect.

They’d witnessed the tenth anniversary of her disappearance this summer with Henry and Ceres’ twenty-third birthday. Gideon once thought that money and witchcraft together could solve any problem, but he had now accepted it couldn’t return his daughter.

‘We will never give up on our pup,’ Ivailo growled.

‘Of course not! But there’s nowhere else to look. On Earth. Those rumors of dimensional doors are interesting, though. If we could find one…’

“Gideon,” Eris said softly.

“I know. I’m putting it away.”

He did as always, picturing a thick case file in his head with Ceres’ name on it, and imagining tucking it away in a box for later.

“Are you ready for your last day as Alpha?” she asked.

“No,” he whispered, harboring more than one doubt about handing the reins of the pack to Henry today.

“Gideon,” she scolded, sitting up, “we’ve been through this.”

“I know I’ve been outvoted,” he said curtly, and turned so they each faced a respective wall.

Henry said he was ready. Eris said Henry was ready. Finn said Henry was ready. Leo was indifferent, shocker, and the only person on Gideon’s side was Cass. That only counted as half a vote because Cass was insane. And Gideon said that with love.

He knew one thing. Henry was not ready.

In most ways, he was. He’d shadowed Gideon since the day after he graduated high school, showing no interest in anything but serving his pack and being a good alpha. He was smart and charming and had certainly earned it with hours upon hours of extra time committed.

‘It’s not Henry,’ Ivailo said.

‘I know.’

Through discussion with Ivailo and spending more time than anyone else with Henry, Gideon had come to understand Henry’s wolf was old. Most alphas were, but this was an ancient old, Ivailo confessing by comparison he was a pup. He knew he’d never admit it, even between them, but Gideon sensed Henry’s wolf intimidated Ivailo.

He was cold and unsympathetic. Aggressive and explosive and lots of other unsavory adjectives.

Gideon’s greatest fear was that Henry wasn’t ready to control a wolf like that. He was afraid the wolf, a massive beast called Bleu, would wield too much sway in Henry’s decisions. The problem being, he was absolutely merciless. They’d all seen it in lethal defensive encounters with vampires or rogues.

It impressed most, including Eris and Finn, but Bleu’s penchant for violence alarmed Gideon. Twice he and Henry had argued extensively about whether it was necessary to run down and kill retreating enemies, and Gideon knew that was all Bleu. He sensed the wolf was always testing him. Picking at him and making Henry question everything he did.

No one would take his worries seriously, and his denial of the ascension was badly straining his relationship with his son. So, he’d reluctantly agreed. Now the day was here, and he felt the tension in his neck was on the edge of giving him a headache.

“It’s a bad time to be changing leadership with the rumors about what is happening in the human realm,” he argued with Eris, rehashing an argument they’d had a thousand times.

“Gideon, it’s never a good time. It’s dragons, or witches, or zombies. Peace is an illusion. Henry will take it all in stride because he is ready. They both are.”

“Dorothy is definitely ready. Henry, I’m not so sure.”

Henry’s mate Dorothy, known affectionately as Dot, had transformed from a shy girl into a textbook example of a Luna. He was proud of her, as proud as he would be of a daughter with the same dogged work ethic that Dot had presented.

Gideon would choose no other, of course, but Eris was a powerful Luna in a unique way. Both she and her sister, Enid, were gifted because of their rare bloodline; Eris could heal almost any wound with song. Beyond that, she was a stern woman, and often seen as cold. To further aggrandize herself, she was the first among their people to slay a dragon.

The pack members respected Eris, feared her even, but they loved Dot. Born and raised in the middle of town by a hardworking, war-widowed mother, she was appreciated as one of their own.

Over the last five years, Dot had even found her voice in Gideon’s presence, pointing out to him people who had slipped through the cracks. Recently, she’d started bluntly telling him where his attention was most needed, and he respected that more than he could express. He appreciated it.

She would be one of Henry’s greatest assets. Henry knew it, of course, once referring to her as his queen if life was a game of chess. Gideon was betting every dollar on her to be the fighter in his corner. The voice of compassion that Henry often needed to hear.

On top of being an excellent understudy, she’d gifted them all three adorable children. Henry’s orange haired girls, his eldest named Ceres after his lost twin. Those sweet babies, his grandkids, lifted away some layers of his ever-present gloom.

Gideon glanced at the clock and rubbed the back of his neck. Five O’ five. “Jilly’s already beat me to the gym.”

He used to be there first to enjoy the quiet until his youngest daughter had, without a word, started showing up earlier than him, lifting weights and ignoring him with her earbuds in. So, he’d started showing up earlier and ignoring her. Then she showed up earlier, and so on, until they were there ridiculously early, in the middle of the night, and had to put a cap at five.

She did strange things like that to get his attention, but when he tried to interact with her, they always ended up in an argument.

His wild child. The guilt involving Jillian could easily overcome him on a bad day. Gideon knew she’d grown up in the shadow of her sister’s abduction, and that he’d spent a lot of energy on that instead of parenting her.

He recently realized she’d been crying out for his attention for years, more than clear in the last six months when she’d shown up with her head shaved and a tattoo. On the side of her head. At fifteen years old. Not some pretty little bird or girly quote, either. A black widow spider, but the hourglass was a red rose.

She had been caught at school with substances illegal for her age, cigarettes and weed. Three times this year Eris had been in the principal's office to discuss Jillian starting physical fights—which she’d won, much to his hushed delight. He did need to retire because it was becoming obvious he could either run the pack or parent Jillian, but there simply wasn’t time in the day to do both.

“Just train with her. That’s what she wants,” Eris said, standing.

“I’ve offered, but she laughs and rolls her eyes. Then the next day she begs me. She loves to confuse me, and she enjoys playing games with me, Eris, you have no idea. Besides, I don’t want to encourage her aggression.”

“Why? She’s fierce. Let her be.”

“Is that what you said to the principal last time?”

“Basically, but I get the impression he doesn’t agree with my parenting style.”

“Well, our daughter is feral.”

“She is a strong woman. You should train her.”

“She’s fifteen.”

“You trained with Henry when he was fifteen, so I hope your hesitation isn’t because she’s female,” his wife said, and her sharp tone warned him he’d entered dangerous territory.

“Of course not. She’s just… our baby. Our feral baby.”

“She is not a baby.”

“Fifteen is still a baby.”

“Jillian doesn’t think so.”

“Well, that’s because she doesn’t know. Because she’s a baby.”

“She has a boyfriend now.”

“Do not remind me. Oh, gods, she’s just doing it to torment me, I know it,” he said, dragging his fingers down his face.

“Come on. That’s ridiculous,” she said, sauntering around the bed to straddle his lap. She chuckled when he greedily embraced her, his heart swooning in her presence the same way it had for two decades.

“When did we start arguing over these kids so much?” she asked, her voice husky, sexy, as it always had been. Her fingers found the tension in his neck, knowing the exact spot it always gathered.

Gideon slumped his forehead to her chest, sighing and saying, “I crave the elementary school days when the emotional fallout associated with the tragic death of Giggles the hamster was the biggest issue we were dealing with.”

She gasped, saying, “Oh my goddess, I’d forgotten about Giggles. No one ever talks about the dark side of robot vacuums.”

Gideon snorted a laugh, looking up at his mate. They’d endured too much sorrow this past decade without Ceres, and he was happy to find her in a light mood this morning. Unlike him, he knew she was ready to step back from her position as Luna. With the way Dot excelled, Eris practically had already.

“Too soon,” he whispered regarding the Giggles joke, and she grinned like a wolf.

Her hands cupped his cheeks, and she kissed him in a way that had a slow smile spreading across his face.

Sighing, she said coyly, “Well, I guess you are late.”

“She’s already beat me, there’s no sense in hurrying now."

His hands pushed up her bare legs and slid underneath the t-shirt she wore as a nightgown. He was delighted to find it was the only thing she had on.

Gideon was pulling it over her head while she chuckled and asked, “You’re going to choose your last day as Alpha to abandon your obsession with punctuality?”

He pushed her blond hair over her shoulder and kissed the center of her chest before he looked up into the soft gold of her eyes. “Yes, I am. Have you seen the prize?”

Author's Note:

My lovely readers, I am so excited to be back with you!

I hope you liked this opening scene. The birth of Henry and Ceres seemed like the best way to tie the entire storyline together.

This story will be updated (3,000-5,000) words every Wednesday.

Thank you and lovies,

Lynn

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