On Midsummer's Eve in the same cottage where the deaths of the pack's alyko had been faked, a new hope arrived. The next Hallowell heir was born. Thelonious Hallowell came out at a healthy weight of well over nine pounds, much to everyone's surprise—especially August's.
"That's my baby?" She gasped, tired but flushed with joy at the sight of the son who she had carried as part of her own body all of this time, growing him safe and sound inside of her womb.
It was hard to comprehend. Now he was out in the world—she was seeing him. And he was huge!
"He looks like he's three months old," she chuckled, a tremor of fear passing through her at his loud cries as she realized that she had no idea how to care for him or just what to do.
"You did well, momma," Graeme said lovingly, kissing her forehead and beaming with joy as Greta laid Theo on his mate's chest.
