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Cobblestone 120

    120 Chapter 120


    Seraphina’s POV 1


    The soft morning light filtered through the hospital window as I adjusted our daughter in my arms, still marveling at how perfect she was. Her tiny fingers were curled into little fists, and her breathing was so peaceful it made my chest ache with love.


    “Mama!” Adrian’s excited voice preceded him through the door as he burst into the room, practically


    vibrating with energy. “Is she awake? Can I see her again?”


    “Shh, sweetheart,” I whispered, smiling at his enthusiasm. “She’s sleeping, but you cane look.”


    Adrian climbed onto the chair beside my bed with the careful precision of a child who’d been repeatedly reminded to be gentle. His silver-blue eyes-so much like Damien’s-went wide with wonder as he peered at


    his baby sister.


    “She’s so tiny,” he breathed, reaching out one finger to gently touch her hand. “Look! She’s holding onto me!”


    My heart melted as our daughter’s fingers instinctively wrapped around Adrian’s finger. The sight of my


    children together, this perfect moment of sibling connection, made tears spring to my eyes.


    “She knows you’re her big brother,” I told him softly.


    “What’s her name gonna be?” Adrian asked, his voice hushed with reverence. “Daddy said you haven’t picked


    one yet.”


    “We’re still deciding,” I admitted. “Do you have any ideas?”


    “Oh.” Adrian looked confused but suggested immediately. “How about… Lily? Or Rose? I like flower names.”


    “Lily,” I repeated, looking down at our daughter’s peaceful face. “I like that. What do you think, little one? Do


    you like the name Lily?”


    As if responding to my voice, the baby made a soft cooing sound that made both Adrian and me smile.


    “She likes it!” Adrian dered triumphantly. “Hi, Lily. I’m your big brother Adrian.”


    The door opened, and Damien entered carrying a cup of coffee and what looked like discharge papers. He


    looked better than he had in months-there was actually color in his face, and the tension around his eyes


    had eased.


    “How are my girls this morning?” he asked, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead before settling into the


    chair on the other side of the bed.


    “Adrian thinks we should name her Lily,” I told him.


    “Lily,” Damien repeated thoughtfully, reaching out to stroke our daughter’s dark hair. “Lily Nightshadow. I like


    it.”


    “It’s decided then,” I said, smiling despite the ache in my chest. “Wee to the world, Lily.”


    For a few minutes, we existed in that perfect bubble of new family bliss. Adrian chattered about all the things he wanted to show Lily when she got bigger. Damien talked about setting up the nursery. I just held our


    daughter and tried to memorize every detail of her perfect little face.


    But then Adrian said something that shattered the illusionpletely.


    “Mama,” he said, his small face scrunched up in confusion. “You smell different.”


    My blood turned to ice. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”


    “Before, you smelled like… like warm cookies and flowers and something else that made me feel safe.” His


    little brow furrowed as he tried to find the words. “But now you just smell like… like nothing special. And it


    feels empty when I’m near you.”


    All I could focus on was the innocent confusion on my son’s face as he tried to understand why his mother


    felt wrong to him.


    “I’m still your mama, Adrian,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I’m still the same person.”


    “I know,” he said quickly, scrambling closer to give me a careful hug. “I love you the same. It’s just… different.”


    Different. That one word summed up everything I’d lost, everything I’d never get back. Even my own son


    could sense that something fundamental was missing from me.


    Damien cleared his throat. “Adrian, why don’t you go find Uncle Lucas? Tell him we’ll be ready to go home


    soon.”


    19.01


    “Okay!” Adrian bounced off the chair, apparently unaware of the emotional devastation he’d just caused. “I’ll


    tell him about Lily’s name too!”


    Once he was gone, the silence in the room became suffocating.


    “Sera-” Damien started.


    “Don’t,” I said quietly, not looking at him. “Just… don’t.”


    I couldn’t handle sympathy right now. Couldn’t handle being reminded again of everything I’d lost. If a five- year-old could sense it, what did that mean for everyone else?


    Three dayster, I was finally settling into life outside the hospital walls. Lily was thriving, eating well and


    sleeping in manageable stretches. Adrian was over the moon about being a big brother, constantly wanting to


    help with everything from diaper changes to bath time.


    “Come on,” Ophelia said, practically dragging me toward the front door. “You need to get out of this house.


    Fresh air, sunshine, normal human interaction.”


    “I’m fine staying in,” I protested, adjusting Lily in her carrier. “She’s still so little, and-”


    “And you’re going stir-crazy,” Ophelia interrupted firmly. “We’re just going to the baby store in town. Nothing


    strenuous. Plus, Lily needs more clothes, and you know Damien has no idea what to buy.”


    She was right, of course. Damien had tried his best, but his idea of baby clothes ran toward expensive


    designer outfits that werepletely impractical. We needed simple,fortable things that could handle


    the reality of infant life.


    The drive into town was pleasant enough. Ophelia chattered about pack gossip. The baby store was busy,


    filled with the sounds of crying infants and frazzled parents trying to navigate the overwhelming array of


    choices. I found myself rxing slightly as we browsed through the racks of tiny clothes.


    “These are adorable,” Ophelia said, holding up a set of pink onesies covered in little moons and stars. “Very


    appropriate for an alpha’s daughter.”


    I picked out several practical items-soft cotton sleepers, burp cloths, tiny socks that seemed impossibly


    small. Normal mom things. For a few minutes, I could almost pretend I was just like any other new mother


    shopping for her baby.


    The young woman behind the register didn’t even bother looking up from her phone when we approached. She was maybe neen, with badly bleached hair and cheap makeup caked on thick. When she finally nced at me, her face twisted into an expression of pure disgust.


    “What do you want?” she snapped, like we were personally ruining her day just by existing.


    “We’d like to check out, please,” I said politely, setting our items on the counter.


    The girl-her name tag read “Brittany”-rolled her eyes dramatically and started scanning our items with the


    speed of msses. She picked up each piece of clothing like it was contaminated, holding them at arm’s


    length.


    “Seriously?” She held up one of the outfits and snorted. “You think you can afford this?”


    “Excuse me?” Ophelia’s voice went dangerously low.


    Brittany smirked. “I’m just saying, honey, this isn’t exactly the bargain bin. Maybe try the thrift store down the


    street?”


    Heat flooded my cheeks. “I can pay for it.”


    “Right.” Sheughed, a harsh sound that made other customers turn to stare. “Let me guess-you’re one of


    those human groupies who thinks sleeping with a wolf makes you special?”


    My mouth fell open. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”


    “Oh,e on.” Brittany leaned across the counter, her voice loud enough for half the store to hear. “We all


    know what you are. Some desperate human slut who spread her legs for a wolf and thinks that makes her


    pack.”


    “That’s enough!” Ophelia snarled, stepping forward.


    But Brittany was just getting started. “Look at you. No scent, no power, nothing. You’re just some pathetic


    human who got knocked up and now you’re pretending you belong here.”


    She gestured at Lily with obvious revulsion. “And that thing you’re carrying? God, I feel sorry for it. Do you


    have


    any idea how messed up half-breeds turn out? Mental problems, physical deformities, identity issues.”


    My hands started shaking. “Don’t talk about my daughter like that.”


    18 01


    415


    “Your daughter?” Brittanyughed cruelly. “Honey, that’s not a wolf pup in there. That’s a mistake. A dirty


    little mixed-blood freak who’s never going to fit in anywhere.”
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