Darius storms out of Cassandra's room like a man barely holding the edges of his sanity together. His eyes burn with a wild mix of frustration, longing, and something dangerously close to hope.
Michael and Aidan, both conveniently loitering in the hallway like nosy older brothers. straighten the moment they spot him.
Before either of them can open their mouths, Darius turns on them with a glare so molten, so thunderous, it could peel paint off the walls.
"You make damn sure no unmated wolves get past that door," he snaps, voice low and lethal. "That includes me. Especially me."
Michael raises his eyebrows, but wisely keeps his mouth shut.
"I'm proving to her and everyone else...that I'm serious," Darius growls. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to prep for tomorrow's early morning day-care."
He says it like he's heading into battle. Maybe he is.
And then he spins on his heel and charges down the hallway, footsteps echoing like war drums, disappearing around the corner with the velocity of someone trying to outrun his own emotions.
A moment of silence follows.
Michael finally exhales. "Well...either she rejected him, or our future Luna just put our Alpha in his place."
Aidan lets out a slow, impressed whistle. "Finally. Someone who can make him submit. That's gotta be worth celebrating."
They exchange looks, grins stretching ear to ear like two wolves who've just discovered their favourite toy now comes in sarcasm and heels.
The next morning dawns bright, merciless, and absurdly cheerful, an insult, really, to any Alpha who only got four hours of sleep and is now expected to babysit a litter of tiny werewolf gremlins.
Darius enters the pack nursery with the grim resignation of a man marching to his doom. He's scowling, sleep-deprived, and holding a clipboard someone handed him like it was cursed by a vengeful warlock. He squints at the list.
"Ten pups," he mutters. "How bad could it be?"
As if summoned by cosmic mockery, the door creaks open and pure, unfiltered chaos explodes through it.
Ten werewolf pups, some in tiny human form, others in wolf form with oversized ears and zero shame, barrel into the room like enchanted missiles. There's a blur of fur, laughter, shrieking, and the sharp scent of impending disaster.
One wolf-form pup launches directly at Darius's leg, sinking its baby teeth into his jeans with the confidence of a creature that fears nothing.
"Get it off! Get it...why is it chewing my shin?" Darius flails, trying to shake it loose while maintaining some sliver of dignity. The pup just growls like it's found a chew toy blessed by the Moon Goddess herself.
Sasha, ever the opportunist and chaos connoisseur, appears in the doorway sipping from a glittery mug that proudly reads "Lead Warrior Wife – Chaos Coordinator". Her phone is already out, camera recording like she's documenting history.
"Smile for the camera, Alpha Daycare," she sings sweetly, zooming in just in time to capture a toddler-form pup tackle Darius flat onto his back.
"Hey, Cassie," she adds in a stage whisper, grinning into the mic, "your Alpha is officially getting his ass handed to him by three toddlers and a baby with an attitude."
Darius groans from the floor as another wolf pup begins climbing his back like he's Mount Doom. "I'm going to die here," he mutters, defeated. "This is how it ends. Devoured by adorable were-beasts."
Aidan and Michael peek around the corner, clearly having the time of their lives. Michael's wheezing with laughter. Aidan nearly chokes on a protein bar.
One pup in human form is singing loudly (and off-key) about glitter swords while another in wolf form is howling mournfully in the corner because someone stole its squeaky dragon toy. And a particularly feral little beast named Fluffinator...a name Darius will never emotionally recover from, just lifted a leg and peed directly on his left boot.
"YOU LITTLE...!" Darius tries to pivot, slips on a rogue juice box, and crashes into a mountain of plush toys. Two pups immediately take this as a sign to start bouncing on his stomach like it's a trampoline.
"Okay," he gasps between wheezes, "this...might be harder than I thought."
One pup, currently human and covered in stickers, climbs onto his chest and licks his cheek for reasons unknown to science. Another, in wolf form, solemnly brings him a sock like it's a sacred relic of peace.
Despite everything, his aching ribs, fur stuck to his lips, the smell of something suspiciously burnt...Darius starts to laugh. A real one. Deep, helpless, and full of something dangerously close to joy.
"Alright," he mutters. "Maybe I'm not completely hopeless."
By midmorning, he's developed a crude but effective strategy: feed them enchanted snacks, distract them with shiny, glowing trinkets, and surrender to being a human jungle gym. It's chaos. It's madness. It's...kind of fun?
At one point, a pup toddles in holding a spell book twice their size. It flops open mid-giggle, and the nursery lights flicker ominously as wind gusts from nowhere. Sasha doesn't even blink. She strolls over, chants a calm counter-hex, and pats the pup on the head while still recording.
"No biggie," she chirps. "Just casual poltergeist energy. Happens every Tuesday."
Later, a pup, half-shifted, half-giggling, climbs onto the windowsill and prepares to leap. Darius lunges, catches them mid-air, and tumbles backwards into a beanbag. The rest of the pack follows instantly, dogpiling him in joyous chaos.
He lies there, stunned and covered in drool, giggles, and crushed crackers, eyes closed as the pups wriggle and wag around him.
Sasha zooms in on the moment he surrenders completely. There's a tired smile on his face. His hair is a mess. Someone's drawn a moon on his cheek in purple marker. But he looks...happy.
Later, Sasha sends the full video montage to Cassandra with a sparkling filter and dramatic music.
The title?
"Alpha vs. The Pupocalypse: A Love Story."
The caption?
"He survived. Barely. But look at his face, Cass. He's already yours."
Over the next two days, Darius keeps his distance from Cassandra's door, staying true to his word. His only contact with her comes through long video calls, some light, some serious, all addictive. They debate whether a dragon would prefer espresso or green tea ("Espresso. Obviously. That much firepower needs caffeine," Darius argues), and get side-tracked with playful arguments about the ethics of magical matchmaking.
She's sharp. Witty. Merciless when teasing, and devastatingly kind when he least expects it.
And every night, she falls asleep mid-conversation. He never hangs up. Just watches her. Memorizing the way her lashes flutter, the way her breathing evens out. She's the storm and the calm after it, all wrapped up in one impossible woman.
By the third day, Darius senses it, like a string pulled taut inside his chest. Her heat is beginning.
He sends her a message, one that's more prayer than words:
You'll be okay. I'll stay away. But I'm here when it's over. And I'm yours. However long it takes.
Then, he calls his father.
When Luke steps into the office, he already knows. Darius doesn't have to explain. He just says, "It's time."
Together, they descend into the deeper cells of the packhouse, the ones lined in iron and silence.
Darius orders his warriors into place.
Michael, Aidan, Sasha, Lexie and his mother form a protective ring around Cassandra's space.
Whilst his father and the others prepare to secure him.
Luke double-checks every chain, every latch, every sedative.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" Luke asks, eyes serious.
Darius nods without hesitation. "I promised her. So if this is the price...I'll pay it."
Luke clasps his shoulder. "You're stronger than you know. But this...this will test you."
By day two of Cassandra's heat, Darius is half-shifted, eyes glowing gold, voice barely human. He paces like a caged beast, howling and clawing at the walls.
When his voice rises in a frenzied snarl..."LET ME SEE HER!"...Luke administers the sedative.
Moments later, Darius slumps into silence, trembling even in unconsciousness.
The pack is barely able to rest.
Everyone waits.
Everyone watches.
And in the stillness between heartbeats, a quiet, desperate hope begins to bloom.
Because maybe...just maybe...this is what love looks like.
A challenge. A storm. A promise kept.
Even when it hurts.
Even when it's hard.
Especially when it's real.