Blossom POV As we leave the house through the back door instead of heading to the garage, I'm confused but go along with it, trusting Dean's plan. We stroll through the yard, passing Boo who's happily munching on kibble in his oversized kiddie pool. As we reach the clearing in the trees, I start to piece things together. Perhaps it's a picnic in the field, something romantic already prepared for us. What else could it be? However, as the field emerges into view, I'm taken aback. There's no picnic setup—instead, there's a helicopter waiting. Before I can even process what's happening or ask about it, Dean opens the fuselage doors and readies our headsets. I notice the absence of a pilot. "Why is there no pilot, Dean?" I ask, a bit perplexed. "Hop in, would you?" Dean says with a mischievous smile before teasing, "Do you think I'd have us flying without a pilot?" His confidence reassures me as he starts the helicopter, and I buckle up, impressed as he checks gauges and communicat
Blossom POV What Dean doesn't realize is that his part in the plan ends here, while Diana and Caleb have been working tirelessly to throw me a surprise baby shower. Unbeknownst to him, as we approach the landing field, a crowd of guests awaits our arrival. As he brings the helicopter down and we near the landing, he becomes aware of the tables, people, and soft blue decorations. Dean had suspected Diana and Caleb were up to something, but it's all clear now. "This finally makes sense," he murmurs as he lands the helicopter and powers down. With the rotor blades finally still, people cautiously approach, eager to greet us. When they notice me sleeping soundly in the passenger seat, a collective "aww" ripples through the crowd—a sound I hear only once Dean removes his headset and hops out. He signals for silence with a finger to his lips as he rounds the helicopter to tap on my window. I wake slowly, yawning and stretching, then break into a smile as I see the crowd that's turned th
Blossom POV The baby shower went off seamlessly, and everyone seemed to enjoy the games arranged for the women. I received numerous lovely gifts for the baby, which I know I'll be even more grateful for soon. Meanwhile, the men followed Caleb to the villa's yard as he introduced them to Boo during feeding time. Dean reflected quietly, "This was much simpler than the grand extravaganza Diana and Caleb had initially planned. Somehow, the simplicity made it more special; it was refreshing to have a straightforward party." As the evening drew to a close and guests started departing, Dean and I thanked everyone for coming and expressed our appreciation. Diana joined Maria and a few other housekeepers in tidying up, despite Caleb's insistence that she didn't have to. Once the last guests had left, I urged Diana to pause her cleaning so we could talk in the kitchen. Diana, a little anxious, finished up before heading into the villa. She entered through the back door and found Dean and m
Blossom POV I head back to our room to grab a blanket for Dean. "He could have at least gotten himself a blanket," I mutter to myself as I trudge down the hallway again. After gently covering Dean with the thin blanket, I return to our room, ready to finally get some well-deserved rest. The next morning, I wake up bright and early, feeling optimistic about the day. My baby isn't overwhelming me today, for which I am grateful. "Maybe he's finally realizing it's not ideal to be outsmarted by his unborn form," I chuckle at the thought and then check in mentally with him. "How are you doing in there?" I ask. D.L., my unborn baby, tells me he's doing fine but just a bit exhausted from keeping my intelligence, combat readiness, and other abilities heightened, just in case of any residual threats from the farmhouse confrontation. I reassure him that everything is taken care of and he can focus on growing and developing into a healthy, full-term, Lycan baby. His little eyes start to fl
Blossom POV Priscilla lets loose a laugh that sounds more like an over-the-top, boisterous cackle—something that might be forced to incite laughter in others, but in Priscilla's case, it's genuine. After she finishes, she takes off her glasses, breathing onto the lenses to clear them, using the hem of her stained t-shirt to wipe away the smudges. I can't help but smile when I notice Priscilla has a mole on her chin, just like my father did. Up until now, I hadn't realized how unique that trait was. Seeing her in a new light, I tell her, "Priscilla, I'm not going to pretend I know the revised code sections and ordinances. I'd have a better shot at guessing how old those glasses are or the story behind that shirt. Even Dean wouldn't have a clue," I add, glancing at Dean, who gives me a 'don't drag me into this' look. Priscilla sits back down, her expression far softer than before, and she seems less like the eccentric character I first perceived. "Today marks the start of your train
Blossom POV Once Priscilla grew tired of my unsuccessful attempts at teleportation, she flatly instructed me to just use the door. "We've spent enough time trying to get you to appear only five feet ahead. Your impressive Alpha here can dematerialize and travel anywhere in the world in a matter of seconds. You did speak with your parents in that cellar, right? And Eliza too?" "How do you possibly know that?" I demanded, shooting a glance at Dean. "It wasn't Dean," she retorted. "I just know things, girly. Far more than you grasp with your current understanding of things around here," Priscilla continued, delivering a sharp dose of reality. Dean stayed silent, thinking I might benefit from a little humility. Perhaps I should trust her, too, I thought. "Okay then... I was in the cellar and Eliza appeared. She explained a bit about the fabric of time and space, mentioning that she was just a holographic projection of her memory. I remember it clearly. She said that the event of our
Blossom POV I heard Priscilla say, "Welcome to the airwaves, dear." "Wait, I can hear you now?" I asked, surprised. "You've always been able to hear everything, Blossom. You just need to learn to control the volume of things that don't serve you—like conflicts among friends or debates with your partner. Overthinking daily choices, like what to wear, can drown out the important messages the world is trying to convey. Are you following me?" Priscilla's lessons were beginning to resonate with me. "The airwaves, then?" I asked for clarification. "Yes," she replied. "The airwaves consist of every frequency that maintains the fabric of creation. When you think or feel, you're transmitting frequencies along these airwaves. This is how you connect with your unborn child. He may not be 'alive' in the traditional sense now, but he was very much alive as recently as you and I perceive it. Think of it like this: he's nearer to his last life than you are to this birth, ready to release past
Blossom POV "I have to tell him," I state firmly. "I couldn't live with myself if I didn't give him the chance to process this in his own way. It's his past. We're not talking about 'who ate Dean's last protein bar'—this is life-altering knowledge. I can't believe I've buried it for so long," I lament, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me. I turn to Priscilla with gratitude filling my heart. "Thank you, Priscilla. You've been an honorary mother, watching over us from the shadows. You have my appreciation and my love," I say as tears brim in my eyes, and soon Priscilla joins me in tears. "Stop, you little rascal, or I'll blow my nose right on you!" Priscilla jokes, trying to lighten the mood. Just then, Maria enters from the living room, and I rush to give her the biggest hug I've had in years. Holding me while I cry, Maria glances over my shoulder at Priscilla, silently asking, "You told her?" Priscilla nods, tears in her eyes too. Maria gently pulls me back, brushing my hair a