Talk About the Direct Approach...

Bonus Chapter

*Cayton's POV*

Things would be ok, I just knew it.

I'm strong, I'm powerful. I have the blood of an Alpha running through my veins, blood that stretches back dozens upon dozens of generations. There is little that can faze me. I can handle almost any situation thrown my way. Years of training and experience have made me into a feared and respected Alpha. I will--

"Did you get all that?" Macy repeats, snapping me out of my inner monologue.

"Uh, put them in the dishwasher?"

Her expression falls flat, eyes hooded in disappointment. "You're joking right?"

I roll my eyes, a small smile on my face as I pull her against me. "Of course. You act like I don't ever do this."

"I know, I'm just nervous. It's usually a group effort," she says, looking towards the stairs. "There's just so many of them."

I laugh, holding her closer, hoping to ease her nerves. "It's only one day, we will all survive."

She looks around the house, eyes scanning every detail as if she was going to see if even a carpet fiber was out of place when she gets back. "Well, if the place burns down I guess that's a good enough excuse to redecorate."

I grab her shoulders and push her gently away so I can fully look her in the eyes. They're nearly glowing yellow, and I can see the anxiety clearly in them. I smile softly, despite my nerves about the situation. I wasn't going to tell them to her of course, and I hoped she couldn't see. She was right, after all. There's a lot of them for one person to handle.

"If you really want to redecorate, you don't have to sit around and wait for Marshall to burn the place down," I joke.

"You're right," she says, her smile so big it makes her eyes close. "Lyla will probably do it. I just need to wait for her terrible twos."

I shudder at the thought. Lyla, only 10 months old, has already mastered the art of running, and the term "hell on wheels" fits her perfectly. Poor Lawrence has yet to even start walking, and every time he pulls himself up to try, she runs in and knocks him right back down. Though they are twins, they are polar opposites so far.

"Mama!" Marshall comes down the stairs one step at a time, blanket in one hand as the other holds tightly to the rails. His light brown hair is sticking up in a hundred different directions, as he has just woken up from his nap. His pants are missing, revealing a bright green alien pull-up. I note that he indeed had pants on when we put him down to sleep.

"So it begins," Macy whispers cryptically as she squats, arms extended towards the excited toddler. He runs straight into her arms when he hits the floor, his own arms stretched towards her. He giggles as she places a hundred kisses all over his face, him struggling to push her away.

She stands to face me, Marshall in her arms. He looks at me then, brown eyes wide and curious. It isn't often he gets to see me during this time of the day, as I'm usually off doing something or other pack related. The thought makes me frown, as I would love to spend every waking moment with my mate and our children, but I hide it to the best of my abilities as my son stares at me.

"Hey bubs," I say, holding out my arms to him. He looks at them, then back to me, and for a second I think he's going to shrink back into Macy's arms. But instead, he bursts out giggling and reaches for me suddenly. He nearly throws himself out of Macy's arms, and it warms my heart despite the brief panic I feel as I think he's going to fall.

"Papa!" I grab him as he's released, feeling my heart soar as he wraps his little arms around my neck. Macy smiles fondly at the both of us, placing a hand on each of our heads.