Irina’s POV

"No. Absolutely not. I’m keeping him," Mia declared, squeezing Luka so tightly to her chest that my poor baby let out a tiny, muffled squeak.

She stood in her parents’ living room, surrounded by half-taped cardboard boxes, her big brown eyes swimming with tears.

"Mia, please," I sighed, wiping a smudge of dust off my jeans. "You have to let me pack his diaper bag. The cab is waiting downstairs."

"Let it wait!" she sniffled. "Just don’t take him away."

"He’s my baby," I corrected gently, stepping closer.

"Details!" Mia waved a hand dramatically. "I helped you wash his tiny socks! We are family, Irina. You can’t just pack up your life into six boxes and leave me alone with my organic chemistry textbook!"

I looked at the six boxes stacked near the door. That was my entire existence, my hard-fought freedom, packed into brown cardboard and sealed with cheap tape. Every item had been bought with money I earned myself at the clinic. No pack credits. No alpha’s credit cards. No gilded cage.

My chest swelled with heavy sadness and terrifying excitement. I walked over and gently pried Luka from her grip. He blinked his huge blue eyes, sucking on his fist, completely oblivious to her meltdown.

The moment Luka was in my arms, Mia collapsed against my shoulder, sobbing loudly.

"Oh, Mia," I murmured, wrapping my free arm around her shaking shoulders.

"I’m going to miss you so much!" she gasped, clutching my shirt. "It’s going to be so quiet here. Who am I going to complain to? Who’s going to make me toast when I stay up studying?"

"You’ll survive," I whispered, though my own throat was starting to tighten.

"I won’t! I’m going to die of loneliness!" She pulled back slightly, and my jaw dropped. She was an absolute mess. Mascara was smeared in thick tracks down her cheeks, and her nose was bright red. But worse than that—she had literally cried and snorted all over my clean white t-shirt. There was a wet, sticky patch of snot and tears right on my collarbone.

"Mia!" I gasped, half-laughing, half-groaning. "You literally just rubbed your nose all over me!"

"Good!" she sniffled loudly, wiping her face with her sleeve. "Now you have to take my DNA with you! If you wash that shirt, you don’t love me!"

"You are disgusting," I laughed, a tear of my own finally slipping out. I bumped my forehead against hers. "I’m going to miss you too, you idiot. You have no idea how much."

"Then don’t go," she whimpered, her eyes pleading.

"If you miss us so much—" I tugged gently at her ponytail until she pulled back enough to look at me. Her nose was bright red. Her mascara was halfway down her face. "—you can come over tomorrow."

She blinked.

"...Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow. The day after. Every day. I am literally six subway stops away, you walking disaster."

"Tomorrow," she repeated, sniffling hard. "Tomorrow, like, after my organic chem lab?"

She wiped her nose on the back of her wrist, which was disgusting, and which she did not care about. Then she leaned forward and pressed a loud, wet kiss to the top of Luka’s hat.

"Bye, my favorite tiny man," she whispered. "Auntie Mia is going to bring you so many illegal teething biscuits."

"Please do not bring him illegal anything."

"Bye, jerk." She kissed my cheek too, leaving a damp, salty smudge. "Go. Go before I tackle you."

I went.

—

The new apartment was on the fourth floor of a tired brick walk-up, and the stairs almost killed me.

By the time I shouldered the door open with Luka on my hip and the duffel bag over my shoulder, my arms were shaking. The cab driver had dropped my boxes in the hallway. The hallway smelled like old curry and someone’s laundry detergent. My new key stuck in the lock. I had to jiggle it three times.

But then the door swung open.

And it was mine.

—

I stood in the doorway for a long second, just breathing.

The place was tiny. A square of a living room. A kitchenette with two burners. One bedroom barely big enough for a twin mattress and Luka’s bassinet. The radiator clanked. The window above the sink had a hairline crack in the corner.

And under the bathroom sink, when I crouched down to check the pipes, a slow, fat drop of water plinked into a chipped saucer somebody had left behind.

Plink.

Plink.

I sat back on my heels and stared at it.

A leak. Day one. Of course there was a leak.

I should have been upset. A year ago I would have cried. A month ago I would have panicked. But I just looked at that little dripping pipe, and a slow, wild grin spread across my face.

It was my leak.

—

I worked all day.

I unpacked the boxes one by one. I scrubbed the kitchen counters until my knuckles were raw. I taped a piece of cardboard over the cracked windowpane. I shoved the twin mattress against the warmest wall. I set up Luka’s bassinet right next to it, close enough that I could reach out in the dark and touch him. I lined up my little stack of GED books on the windowsill like trophies.

I put a bowl under the leak.

I put a second, prettier bowl under the leak when I realized the first one was ugly.

My back ached. My shoulders burned. My stomach growled, and I had nothing in the fridge but half a bagel and a carton of milk for Luka. The radiator started clanking again somewhere around sunset, like an old dog grumbling itself to sleep.

It was the smallest space I had ever lived in.

It was the first space that had ever been mine.

My wolf stretched lazily inside my chest, content. No alpha at the door. No locks on the outside. No footsteps in the hall I had to flinch from. Just me. Just my son. Just a leaky pipe and a cracked window and a key in my pocket that nobody else in the world had a copy of.

—

Luka stirred in his bassinet, letting out a soft grunt. I reached over and scooped him up, bringing him to my chest. He was warm, smelling of baby powder and sweet milk. I sat back against the wall, holding him close as the apartment grew dark.

He blinked up at me, his bright blue eyes catching the fading light from the window. He looked around the small, unfamiliar room, his tiny nose twitching.

And then, his little face crinkled. His mouth stretched wide, and he let out a sudden, bubbling laugh. A real, joyful giggle that echoed beautifully off the empty walls.

My heart swelled, a wave of pure, fierce love crashing over me so hard it brought fresh tears to my eyes. I pressed my forehead gently against his tiny, warm brow.

"Little guy, you like it here too, don’t you?"