*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.
"Alright my boys, mama has to go do some things today. You're gonna spend the day with papa, ok?"
Marshall starts bouncing up and down in my arms, clapping all the while and shouting "Yay!" at the top of his little lungs. We both shush him gently, reminding him his siblings are still sleeping.
"Be good, ok?" Macy leans over and gives Marshall a large, exaggerated kiss on the cheek. "I love you I love you I love you!" Marshall giggles again, playfully trying to stop her assault of kisses.
"And you too!" she pecks my lips next, giving me a reassuring pat on my cheek. "I'll be back around dinnertime."
I steal a proper kiss from her, only to be stopped by a certain suddenly stone-faced toddler sticking his hand between us and pushing against my forehead. "Papa, Mama's kisses are for me."
I grin at him as he maintains his serious expression. "Well then who's kisses are for me?"
He thinks for a second. "You can have Lyla's. They're yucky."
I frown playfully. "What if I said I wanted..." I trail off as he looks at me curiously, before placing a hundred of my kisses on his cheeks. He screams and giggles again, and I end my barrage by blowing a raspberry on his cheek.
Macy laughs and hugs us both, saying her final goodbye before she heads out the door. Right before she opens it, the distinct sound of Lawrence's post-sleep cry can be heard. I look at her, and she looks at me, before smiling devilishly and quickly stepping out the door.
"Papa, I think the babies are awake," Marshall whispers, loudly, in my ear.
"We better go get them then, huh?"
He crinkles his nose. "Maybe Lyla will stay sleeping."
I laugh, knowing fully well he loves his sister. The relationship between the three kids is a tumultuous one for sure, but even at their ages, it's clear they love each other and look after each other. It can be hard to tell when Lyla is bullying her two brothers, or when Marshall is locking the twins in a closet, or when Lawrence laughs at either of them getting hurt...
Like I said, a tumultuous relationship.
*
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. I repeat the mantra in my head as another scream rings out.
Strong, powerful.
I hear something crash, followed by a wail.
The blood of an Alpha--
I run in, a half-naked Lawrence in my arms, to see Lyla standing over Marshall, who is sobbing on the floor, cradling his elbow.
"She tripped me!" he cries, pointing an accusatory finger at his sister. Lyla gives him a curious look before scurrying over to me. Her bright blue eyes look up at me innocently as she stretches her arms out, asking me to pick her up, mumbling "dadadadada" all the while. Her pink cheeks are still covered in remnants of the applesauce she had for lunch, though most of it had ended up on Lawrence.
I scoop her up with my free arm, and she immediately pokes Lawrence in the eye. This sets him off, and soon I'm trying to find the best way to stop brawling toddlers while attending to the sobbing one on the ground.
I find it strangely difficult to do both tasks at once. I try to remember that I have the blood of an Alpha, repeating it as if it is going to help me at all I'm this situation. The problem with the Alpha blood, though, is my kids inherited it.
And to make it worse, they have their mother in them.
"Lyla, Lawrence--" Lyla starts wailing at that point as Lawrence grabs a fistful of her hair and yanks.
Marshall then decides crying on the floor isn't enough, so he barrels into my legs and grips them tightly, throwing my balance off for a brief second.
Lyla starts swatting at her brother, who still has her hair balled up in his hand. With both of them in my arms, all I can think to do is try and nudge his hand away with my chin, which is about as effective as throwing gas on a fire to put it out.
It's as if the Moon Goddess herself sensed my need for help because at the exact moment my face became the battlefield for the angry kids I was holding, the front door opened to reveal my saving graces--Carter and Trenton.
"Oh man, and here I was worried you'd be having a hard time," Carter immediately remarks, both of them grinning as they take in the scene. Thankfully though, just their entrance is enough to stop not only the fighting but the crying as well. Marshall recovers and runs to Carter, who picks him up and swings him in a circle as he laughs joyously.
"See, everything is under control," I say coolly, placing Lyla and the ground and allowing her to run to the two as I work to put Lawrence's clothes back on.
"Oh yeah, I definitely didn't just walk into a circus," Carter says, bouncing Marshall in his arms.
I scowl. "Shut up, you had it easy." After all, Carter and Bethany only had Eric, who is now about 7 years old. Trenton's girls were handfuls--and trust me, I'd witnessed it firsthand on multiple occasions--but my three take the cake on general shenanigans.
"Right, well, I hate to interrupt your completely-under-control kid time, but we have a problem," Trenton says.
"Can it wait?" I grumble, moving to the couch as I struggle to get Lawrence's clothes on.
"If it could, we wouldn't be here."
Cursing under my breath, I place Lawrence on the ground to crawl around, keeping him in my field of vision as I stand and face Carter and Trenton. "What's happening?"
"So, border patrol was stopped by someone claiming to be the leader of a new pack," Carter begins. "And long story short, he wanted to speak with us. He refused just to talk to Trenton and me."
"Tell him to fu--frick off. We can meet later."
Carter shrugs, placing an antsy Marshall next to Lyla, who has been trying to balance herself on Carter's feet. "He refused to leave, and he took out one of our guys when we tried to force him."
"Took out?"
"Kicked his a--butt. Easily, I was told. He didn't seriously injure him, but I'm guessing he just wanted to send a message."
Growling in frustration, I grab Lyla from Carter's feet and move her, and she quickly toddles off. "What pack, exactly?"
"He said they're called the Bloody Claws group," Trenton says.
"Charming," I mutter, going to grab the kid's backpack, noting how he referred to it as a 'group' rather than a pack.
I look at my three children, all in various stages of toddler chaos, and try to figure out the best way to do this. Bethany and Tami are both off with Macy, and my mother is a few hours away. Frankly, I don't trust anyone else to watch them, and I certainly wouldn't wish their terror on an unsuspecting victim anyways.
As if confirming the thought, I hear another crash. It sounds like a chair being knocked over. I look to see Lyla quickly toddling away from the dining room. I can't take my eyes off of them for a second.
"Alright, let's make this quick. Pick a kid."
As I gather the kid's things and put them in the backpack, I try to figure out what this mystery man could want. He's likely seeking some form of alliance, but frankly, I would have no reason to accept that kind of offer. Sure, I doubt a new pack has had too much time to make many enemies, but I have had enough dealings with other packs and their issues for this lifetime.
I grab Marshall, and Carter takes Lawrence while Trenton chases Lyla down, who decided she wanted to make a break for upstairs.
*
After the turmoil of getting the kids together and into the car to go, we finally arrive at the pack prison where they have the guy waiting.
I instruct Trenton to take the kids into the adjacent room while Carter and I spoke to the Bloody Claws guy. I could still hear them if they were in the other room and could be there in seconds if something happened, like Lyla finally deciding to kill her brothers.
Opening the door to the room where the new Alpha is, I find him seated patiently at a table with his hands folded, his foot tapping against the concrete floor in a quick rhythm.
Once we entered, he was all bright smiles and respectful head bows, but...
Something about the guy didn't sit right with me. I try not to be too judgemental right off the bat, but I got the distinct feeling that you get when you're examining an unknown animal and wondering whether it was venomous or not. The air around him felt dark, though his demeanor was friendly enough.
"Alpha Cayton, I presume?" he asks, hand outstretched for a shake. I grip his hand quickly, wanting to start and end this as fast as I can.
"Yes, and may I ask who you are?"
"Of course." I gesture for him to have a seat as I do, Carter sitting next to me while the man sits across. "My name is Antoine Voytek."
"Pleasure to meet you. So, my Beta informed me you needed to meet with me?"
He nods. He explains, as I had expected, that he was hoping to ally with the Dusk Valley pack. His pack--which, I notice, he exclusively refers to as a 'group' rather than 'pack'--is newly formed and their numbers are small but growing steadily.
"Alpha Voytek, with all due respect--" I start, only to be cut off.
"I'm no Alpha, Alpha Cayton. Simply an appointed leader."
I nod, though I don't quite understand what he's trying to say. "Well, with all due respect, we're not currently interested in the affairs of other packs. Things are mostly at peace between the US packs so frankly, there's little need for alliances."
His expression darkens, but a smile remains on his face. It's unsettling, to say the least, and that's coming from me. I chance a glance at Carter, only to find he is doing the same. His look says he is thinking exactly the same thoughts as me.
"I have a feeling things are going to stir up real soon," Antoine says.
I raise an eyebrow, "What makes you say that?" It feels a bit like a thinly veiled threat. Or maybe it's a warning.
He simply shrugs, leaning back in his chair. "Call it intuition. And I've been hearing things." This is all he offers up in response as he goes to stand. "Well, I can't say I'm happy with how things went, but thank you for agreeing to meet."
"Sure, hope we can avoid any hard feelings," I respond. I hold out my hand in a gesture of good faith. That unsettling smile is on his face once again as he shakes my hand.
"Of course. I understand your position."
As Carter opens the door to for us to step through, I make it about three steps into the hallway before the next door swings open, Marshall and Lyla both hurdling towards me in a race to see who can get to me first. I stop dead in my tracks as they both crash into me at roughly the same time.
"Woah, slow down there my little roadrunners."
"Papa, I wanna go home now," Marshall whines, holding his arms up for me to pick him up. Lyla babbles and holds her arms out as well, so I grab them both in my arms and position them as comfortably as possible. I peer through the door to see Trenton giving me a sheepish look as he works to get Lawrence from under the table he crawled under.
"Who's that?" Marshall asks in his whisper-yell, pointing obviously to the man behind me.
"Hello little one, my name is Antoine," he introduces himself, holding out two fingers for Marshall to grab. He shrinks into me a bit, looking into my eyes for permission. I nod and he tentatively takes the stranger's fingers, wrapping his whole hand around the two fingers. "What's your name?"
"Marshall," he says. "This is Lyla." He points then to his sister, who is currently trying to shove her finger into my ear.
"How old are you Marshall?" Antoine asks.
Marshall proudly holds up three fingers. "I'm 3! My birthday was last month. We had a big cake with aliens on it and mama and papa got me a drum set"--the worst mistake we've made as parents, might I add--"and a car I can drive all by myself!"
"That sounds very exciting!" Antoine says, matching Marshall's excitement easily. I start to feel bad for my snap judgments, but I still can't shake the feeling. "You know, I have a son that's almost your age. His birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks. He's going to be two."
Lyla shoves her finger as far into my ear as it will go, causing me to jerk my head away. She sticks her tongue out at me and blows, sending spittle across my cheek. This child in particular, I predict, will be the death of me.
"And how old is the little lady here?"
"She's not even one yet," Marshall says. "She's a baby. But she's mean!"
Antoine laughs. "Sisters tend to be like that."
Marshall nods wisely. "Mama said she won't throw her away, but I think--"
"Marshall, what did we say about talking about your sister like that?" I interject. He looks at me with wide, innocent eyes.
"That I can't until she can talk so she can defend herself."
"That's...not quite right, but." Shaking my head, I place them back on their feet. "Go with Uncle Trenton while I show Antoine out, ok?"
He nods obediently, before grabbing hold of his sister's hand and pulling her along gently.
"Seems like you have your hands full with those two," Antoine says.
"You have no idea."