My fingers tighten around the phone 85

Ethan’s POV
I cradled Aria’s sleeping form against my chest as I carried her from the bathroom. She felt impossibly light in my arms,
her head tucked into the curve of my neck, breath warm against my skin. Every few steps, she’d mumble something
unintelligible and nestle closer, sending a wave of protectiveness through me.
Nudging her bedroom door open with my foot, I stepped inside. A framed photo of Lucas on the nightstand. A well-worn
paperback on the bedside table. The faint scent seemed to follow her everywhere.
I pulled back the covers to tuck Aria in, only to discover that the sheets beneath her were damp. Was it from the shower where I hadn’t dried her properly? Or perhaps from her fever sweats? I carefully moved her to the foot of the bed, then
walked to her closet to find a large, comfortable nightshirt. Gently, I dressed her without waking her. After getting her
into clean clothes, I grabbed the towel she had used and wiped down my own sweat-slicked body.
Standing in her bedroom, I considered what to do next. How long had she been sleeping on damp sheets earlier? I
should have checked under the covers.
The sound of small, bare feet padding down the hallway caught my attention. Lucas peeked around the doorframe, his
face etched with concern. I smiled reassuringly at him. “It’s okay, Lucas. Your mom’s just sleeping.”
“I peed the bed,” Lucas admitted, his voice trembling slightly. His small shoulders hunched forward as he clutched the
hem of his dinosaur pajama top, twisting the fabric nervously between his tiny fingers. Those green eyes looked up at me
wide with worry, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
I stared at him, completely unsure how to handle this situation. I assumed all kids wet the bed occasionally, so I wasn’t
sure what the big deal was, but maybe he was bothered by this “accident.”
“That’s okay. I’ll change the sheets in a bit,” I said slowly, trying to sound reassuring.
Lucas’s intelligent eyes darted to the bed, then back to me. He shuffled his feet, one small hand reaching up to rub the
back of his neck—a gesture so familiar it made my heart skip. His voice grew more resolute, like a tiny businessman
clarifying the terms of a deal.
“I peed Mommy’s bed when I was sick. I feel better now. But I forgot to tell you.” He punctuated this confession by
holding up his index finger.
Ah! That explained the dampness. Aria couldn’t continue sleeping on these sheets. I ran my fingers through my hair,
feeling the fatigue of caring for both Aria and Lucas all day. How had Aria managed all this alone for so long? All I wanted to do was crawl into bed with her and sleep. Yet there was still so much to do, starting with changing these
sheets.
“Okay, Lucas. Does your mom have extra sheets?” I asked.
Lucas nodded shyly. “In the closet.” He pointed with a small, determined finger, then looked up at me through his lashes,
a tentative smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
I noticed his nervousness and realized he was still worried about his “accident.” He was embarrassed about what he’d
done, shifting his weight from one foot to the other like a tiny pendulum. I crouched down to his level, meeting his eyes.
“Hey, it’s okay that you wet the bed. You were sick, and these things happen sometimes. But now we need to get
everything cleaned up so your mom can rest and get better.”
Lucas’s face brightened like a sunbeam breaking through clouds, his smile revealing a small gap where he’d recently lost
a tooth. Then suddenly, his expression morphed into one of comic horror, eyes going round as dinner plates and mouth
forming a perfect ‘O’ as he let out an alarmed cry.
“Oh crap! The soup!” He clapped both hands to his cheeks.
I sprinted toward the kitchen, sock-sliding across the hardwood floor and narrowly avoiding the mess in the hallway with
a graceless hop-skip that nearly sent me crashing into the wall. The soup had turned into an angry volcano, bubbling and
spitting while steam escaped from under the lid like a dragon’s breath. I twisted the knob on the stove and lifted the lid,
getting a face full of chicken-scented steam.
“Crisis averted,” I announced to no one in particular, staring at the ceiling with a sigh that seemed to come from my toes.
I fired off a quick text to David: Emergency overnight bag. Clothes. NOW. There was no way I was leaving Aria and Lucas
alone tonight, not with both of them barely recovering. I picked up my shirt from the bathroom floor and immediately
recoiled—it smelled like a combination of sweat, vomit, and desperation. Semi-clean jeans would have to do.
When I returned to the kitchen after cleaning up the hallway, Lucas was already on his step stool, carefully setting out two mismatched bowls, his tongue poking out in concentration.
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“Hey, soup chef,” I said, ruffling his hair and sneaking a fever check. Cool to the touch—thank the moon goddess. “First
things first. Where does your mom keep the clean sheets?”
Lucas led me to a tiny linen closet, standing on tiptoes to point at the top shelf. “The blue ones are the softest,” he
informed me seriously.
I worked around sleeping Aria, gently lifting her while stripping the sheets with my free arm. When I tucked her into fresh
bedding, she sighed and nestled deeper, one hand curling around the pillow.
With the washer humming in the background, I returned to the kitchen where Lucas was attempting to ladle soup
without dripping. I folded myself onto a chair clearly designed for someone half my size, knees practically touching my
chin.
“This is really good soup,” Lucas declared between slurps, a ring of broth forming around his mouth.
After dinner, I caught him trying to transfer sheets to the dryer, standing on his tiptoes and stretching his little arms to
reach inside the washer drum.
“Lucas, do you always help your mom like this?” I asked, amazed by this miniature adult.
He nodded sleepily, rubbing his eyes with soup-sticky hands. Without thinking, I pulled him into a hug, breathing in his
clean little-boy scent.
“You’re the best kid any parent could ask for,” I told him, meaning every word.
“I’m tired,” he mumbled against my shoulder, his small body going limp with exhaustion.
As I held him close, Felix suddenly perked up inside me, recognizing something in Lucas’s scent—something hauntingly
familiar that made my wolf pace with curiosity. I buried my nose in his hair, inhaling deeply.
Lucas giggled. “Why are you sniffing me?”
“Nothing, pup,” I said, pushing the impossible thought away. “Time for bed.”
After settling Lucas back in bed and preparing water and a vomit bowl for Aria just in case, a knock came at the door. I
opened it to find David standing there. I sighed wearily, “Thanks for coming.”
“How are Aria and Lucas?” David asked, handing me a duffel bag.
“Sick. I’m exhausted from doing all the chores to keep things running,” I admitted as we walked into the living room
where I pulled out a pair of sweatpants. David observed me with a curious expression. I glared at him, “What?”
“The domestic man role suits you, sir,” David said with a broad grin. I smiled but rolled my eyes, wanting to tell him to get
out.
“About Aria’s car, we finally found it on the side of the road. If we’d been any later, it would have been towed to the
impound lot. We have it towed to the repair shop.”
I quickly changed into clean sweatpants after David’s departure and went to check on Aria. I planned to make sure she
was comfortable before sleeping on the couch. She was tossing and turning, her oversized shirt soaked with sweat. It
looked like she was having a fever dream. When she whimpered, I couldn’t resist any longer.
I slid between the sheets beside her, pulling her back against my chest, successfully calming her body. Aria slowly melted
into my embrace, and I couldn’t help but feel how right this moment was. My wolf, Felix, purred contentedly in my mind.
I kissed Aria’s forehead, wishing she truly belonged to me