Luca's POV
Kai is three, Luna is one, and I'm pregnant again.
"How did this happen?" I ask Rian, staring at the positive test.
"Well, when two people love each other very much—"
"Not helpful." But I'm smiling. "Three kids. We're having three kids."
"Apparently our sex life is very effective." He grins, pulling me close. "How do you feel about it?"
"Terrified. Overwhelmed. Excited." I look up at him. "You?"
"Same. But also—" He places his hand on my still-flat stomach. "Grateful. Another baby. Another blessing."
"We're insane."
"Completely." He kisses me. "But let's be insane together."
Telling the kids is interesting.
"Baby," I tell Kai, pointing to my stomach. "Another brother or sister."
Kai looks suspicious. "More baby?"
"Yes. You'll be a big brother. Again."
"No. One sissy enough." He's firm.
We laugh. "You'll change your mind when they get here."
Luna just babbles happily, oblivious.
This pregnancy is the hardest yet—chasing two toddlers while exhausted and nauseous is hell.
"I can't do this," I tell Rian one particularly rough day.
"You can. You are." He takes both kids. "Go rest. I've got them."
"You have Alpha duties—"
"Damon has Alpha duties. I have family duties." He's firm. "Rest, Luca. Please."
I do. And wake three hours later to silence.
Finding them in the living room—Rian reading to both kids, everyone cuddled together—my heart melts.
"You're perfect," I say from the doorway.
He looks up, smiling. "We're a team. Perfect team."
At five months, we learn it's another boy.
"Three's a pattern," Rian jokes. "Want to try for four, see if we can get another girl?"
"Absolutely not. Three is plenty."
He laughs, but his hand is reverent on my bump. "Another son. Two boys, one girl. Perfect balance."
"Perfect chaos," I correct.
Kai is slowly warming to the idea. He talks to my belly sometimes.
"Hi, baby. I'm Kai. Big brother." Very serious.
Luna tries to copy him, babbling at my stomach.
"You're both going to be great siblings," I tell them.
At seven months, preparing the nursery again, Rian finds me crying.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Everything. I'm overwhelmed." I gesture to the chaos—two toddlers, another baby coming, endless responsibilities. "What if I can't handle three kids?"
"You can. We can." He pulls me close. "Look what we've already done. Survived forced bonding, war, two births, raising two toddlers. We're unstoppable."
"You really believe that?"
"I know it. We're partners, Luca. True partners. We can handle anything together."
His confidence steadies me. "Okay. Three kids. We can do this."
"We can do anything."
That night, making love carefully, he's extra emotional.
"Thank you," he breathes. "For our children. For our family. For choosing this life with me."
"Thank you for making it worth choosing." I kiss him deeply. "I love you. Love our family. Love everything we've built."