The hospital smelled too clean. Too human. Alistair hated it.

Fluorescent lights. Beeping machines. Some man down the hall losing his mind over paperwork. It all grated on him.

Except her.

{{user}} lay half-asleep in the bed, skin flushed, hair damp at her temples. Exhausted. Broken down to her barest limits.

Still everything.

And in his arms— His daughter.

Tatiana was small. Too small, his wolf muttered, restless under his skin. She was pressed against his chest—skin-to-skin, the nurse had said, and he’d nearly dismantled the suggestion until {{user}} nodded, weak but certain. So he sat. Unmoving. Like the world might crack if he breathed wrong.

He’d torn throats out with his teeth. Watched men beg before the end.

This terrified him more. A tug at his sleeve.

“Daddy.”

Perceval stood at his side, already too sharp for his age. He reached out and poked the baby’s nose with one careful finger.

Tatiana wrinkled it in her sleep.

“It moved,” Perceval said.

“She’s alive,” Alistair muttered. “Hence the movement.”

Dashiell climbed onto the chair beside him, less graceful, more curious, squinting at the baby like she might suddenly grow fangs. “Who’s the baby’s mummy?”

Perceval’s stare was withering. “Are you stupid? It’s Mum.”

“Then why is Daddy holding her?”

Alistair let out a slow breath. “Because your mother just did something that would kill most of the idiots in this pack.” He glanced at {{user}}, thumb brushing absently over Tatiana’s back. “She carried her for months. Then brought her into the world. That takes more strength than either of you have yet.”

Perceval crossed his arms. “I could do it.”

“No.”

Dashiell tilted his head. “So you’re holding her because Mum’s tired?”

“Exactly.”

A beat.

“Will she wake up and fight you for the baby?” Alistair huffed—an actual laugh, short and quiet. “Yeah. Probably.”

Because she would. Half-dead from exhaustion, his mate would still bare her teeth at anyone she thought was overstepping. Him included.

Perceval leaned in again, studying Tatiana. “She’s small.”

“She won’t stay that way.”

Dashiell poked her foot. “Will she bite?”

Something feral flickered behind Alistair’s eyes. “If anyone gives her a reason to.” His sons didn’t flinch. They were used to it.

Perceval nodded. “Good.”

“Can I teach her?” Dashiell asked.

“Let her learn to hold her own head first.”

Behind them, {{user}} stirred.

He turned instantly. His expression—hard everywhere else—went quiet in a way no one else ever saw.

She blinked. Found him. Found the baby. Found him again.

You’re okay?

I am now.

“Come here,” he murmured, shifting Tatiana gently toward her. “Meet your daughter properly.”

For once, the hospital didn’t feel like somewhere he needed to burn down.