Chapter Text
Sebastian fretted. He wasn't entirely sure what else he was meant to do. The full moon was an inevitability he could not escape and yet it continually caught him unaware. Already, he could feel the prickling sensation beneath his skin as the day began to fade.
He stood, not listening at all as several werewolves spoke around him, his attention stolen by one of the children. Bundled up in layers, he played exuberantly in the snow until he took a tumble. Red-faced with snow stuck in his hair, he began to cry.
Sebastian's chest tightened instinctively. It took only moments for his mother to react, rushing and collecting him within her arms. She brushed the snow tenderly from his face and soothed him with soft, indistinguishable words.
The reality of Sebastian's situation did not frighten him. He did not bemoan the idea of being a father. He welcomed it.
Having lost his persons at a relatively young age, Sebastian was eager to foster the same bond with his own children.
What worried him was the fact that Claire was at the end of her pregnancy. At any moment, her labor could begin. Sebastian barely left her side lately, the anticipation of their child's birth driving him into a maddened state of smothering.
He didn't want to miss it.
If Claire gave birth while he was gone, he wouldn't know. There'd be no way of finding out until he returned and Sebastian was quite sure his heart would shatter.
She stood before him, looking nowhere near as upset. Her mother had been sending owls daily, demanding that Claire stay with her. She’d been resolute; appreciative of her mother’s concern, but unwilling to be a kept child.
Sebastian bent to hug her again, squeezing her as tightly as he could without hurting her. He buried his face against her fragrant neck and inhaled deeply. It wasn’t helping. It only made him want to let her go even less.
“Sebastian,” Claire scolded, pushing uselessly against his chest.
“You’re sure you don’t feel anything?”
“Nothing. Same as when asked an hour ago, and an hour before that.”
Sebastian withdrew, though it felt as if someone had his heart in a vice grip as he did. His hands lingered along her arms, the warmth and softness of her skin hidden from him beneath the layers of her clothing and her heavy cloak.
“I’ll rush back-”
“Don’t you dare,” Claire huffed, stepping away. “You’ll do as the infection demands and nothing less. I mean it, Sebastian. This isn’t something you can experiment with.”
Sebastian threw a pained look her way. He didn’t care that nearly every werewolf within the pack was clustered around them, watching and listening. He’d have shamelessly fallen to his knees and buried his face against her if it meant he could stay.
“We need to go, Alpha,” Gwen said tentatively from behind.
“You’d better not have that baby while I’m away.”
Claire said nothing, her arms folded atop the upper swell of her stomach. She'd grown tired of his worry.
But she couldn't feel the unsettled sensation that burrowed deep within his gut. Every step he took away from the cottage made his feet feel leaden. The very marrow within his bones called for him to stay.
Sebastian stole a look behind him, at the werewolves gathered and waiting. It wasn't safe. He was no danger to Claire, but the others? They wouldn't care who or what she was. They'd hurt her.
Just the thought of it was enough to make his muscles clench. It fueled his impending transformation, the moon visible against the approaching dusk.
A whimper dislodged itself from his throat, inhuman and bestial. He managed only a few steps before stopping.
“Sebastian,” Claire warned.
“Promise me you'll be fine.”
Claire's words of affirmation barely registered. Sebastian knew he was being silly–omegas were meant for labor–but the broken part of him couldn't stop worrying. He'd lost everyone he'd ever cared about.
The thought of losing her made his soul feel as if it would shatter.
“Go. Before I depulso you out myself!”
Sebastian whined again, turning away with his shoulders slumped. He joined the others but kept looking back until Claire and the village were mere dots in the distance.
Claire knew her labor had begun before Sebastian had even left. She didn't dare tell him. Instead, she sent him off and then immediately crumpled against the cottage door.
Her water had yet to break but the pain and contractions were increasing. It wouldn't be long. She'd narrowly missed causing an incident with Sebastian.
Dominic's mate, Louise, had trained as a midwife after giving birth to her first. She hurried to Claire's side just in time for the long-awaited event to truly kick off.
Claire spent the night sweating and in pain, her labor coming on like the Knight Bus. She persevered, any attempt at feigning decorum lost the second her water broke and the active labor had begun.
Sebastian stumbled in at the first crack of dawn, sweating and smelling of nature, having apparently run the entire way back. He was at her side in an instant, his expression a mask of worried anticipation.
It took until the afternoon for the baby to arrive. Louise placed the messy newborn directly on Claire's chest. She looked down in exhausted wonderment at the scrunched little face of their daughter.
Sebastian touched the infant gently, his knuckle at her tiny cheek, eyes filled with awe.
Normal, for all intents and purposes. All ten fingers and toes. Not a single thing out of place or misshapen.
Their relief was palpable.
Claire awoke with a start. She pushed the hair from her face, her braid slapping against her back as she sat upright. Her hands searched the bed as panic coursed through her.
The baby was missing!
She'd fallen asleep nursing her, careful to ensure there wasn't a chance of smothering or crushing her. Claire hadn't meant to fall asleep, but Matilda was insatiable, seemingly needing to feed constantly despite being several weeks old.
The bed was cold aside from where Claire had rested. A thought struck her, twisting her features.
She was going to throttle her mate.
Leaping from the bed with haste, she ignored the sting of pain. Omegas may have been meant for breeding, but that didn't diminish the difficulty of labor.
She hastily grabbed a coat and shot out of the cottage, her steps quick and hurried. Several werewolves and their mates greeted her only to move out of her way at the look on her face.
It wasn't the first time she'd gone charging through the village on a warpath.
Sebastian, luckily, wasn’t far. She found him easily enough; the intangible tether that connected them guided her without her even having to channel it. He stood some distance away, chatting with one of the newer werewolf pairings.
With his back to her, Claire couldn’t see Matilda. A spike of panic lanced through her. What if she’d overlooked her? But no, she realized, that was impossible. She’d practically torn the blankets from the bed!
Sensing her, Sebastian turned slightly, revealing the bundled up infant. Claire nearly slumped on the spot. Just having eyes on her was enough to assuage the terror she’d felt only moments before.
“You’re awake-”
“Have you lost your bloody mind?” Claire raged, closing the distance.
The other werewolves scattered quickly, wanting no part of the row was about to take place.
Sebastian looked confused. He held Matilda with one hand on her back, her tiny form bundled sufficiently against the elements, her chubby face serene with sleep. It took several seconds for Claire to realize that he’d pulled his coat up and over her, so only her face and the thick mop of her brown hair were visible.
She only ever slept that soundly for him. Claire was stuck with her grizzling and crying most of the time, whilst Sebastian could soothe her with just a touch. It was maddening.
“You cannot just take her without letting me know!” Claire continued, her exhaustion quickly overwriting her anger. “I panicked. I couldn’t find and her and I-”
“Sorry,” Sebastian cut in, frowning. “She was fussing and I thought I’d take her so you could rest.”
Claire did her best not to let her own anxiety show. He was right. Matilda had been relentless the past week. It was everything Claire could do to keep herself upright most of the time.
“You still should have told me.”
“I will, in the future.” Sebastian took one look at her and his expression tightened. “Go rest. I’ll bring her by if she’s hungry. Believe it or not, I can manage fairly well without you hovering.”
Claire folded her arms. That was an understatement. Sebastian had taken to parenthood like a duck to water and it was ceaselessly frustrating. Especially when Claire felt as if she were lost in the undertow most of the time.
“Really, Claire. Go on. You look absolutely knackered.”
Claire’s ire deepened. As if she needed to be reminded of the sorry state of her appearance!
“You’re an arse,” was all she said as she left in a huff.
Most days it was as if Claire existed within an impenetrable fog. She felt apart from herself–as if the reflection she saw in the mirror was someone else entirely staring back at her. Surely it wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. So much change could not have happened in such a short time.
Claire frowned at the mirror. Matilda had begun to fuss, reminding her that she had bigger worries than whether or not she was still herself.
The first few months had been arduous. Keeping an infant fed and alive was a much harder task than anyone had prepared her for. Claire certainly hadn’t anticipated the sleeplessness nor the worry. It consumed her. Even when she tried to sleep, she was too worried about everything and anything. What if’s became somehow real, actualized things that were happening.
She’d open her eyes and Matilda would be safely asleep. Claire would bend down to check her breathing, calmed only by the steady thrum of her heart and the soft breaths through her tiny nose.
The relief would last only a short while, however.
It took forever for Claire to share her concerns. First, with her mother, who had given her an understanding look and immediately wrapped her up in a comforting hug. She’d explained how incredible a change it was, to suddenly be in charge of something so small and fragile. Knowing she wasn’t actually going mad helped.
Eventually, she’d expressed her worries to Sebastian, who immediately took steps to ensure Claire always knew where Matilda was. Whenever he swept her away, he was mindful to let Claire know. If he’d taken her for a long period, he was quick to return and let Claire see that Matilda was still fully safe.
It helped. The anxiety lessened, dimming to something that existed within the back of her mind versus the forefront. For the first time in ages, it felt like Claire could breathe again.
She still checked on Matilda in the middle of the night–regardless if she was in her bassinet next to the bed or safely beside Claire. It was a mother thing, her own mother had said. Diane had admitted to checking Claire up until she was a teenager.
Scooping Matilda up, Claire soothed the hungry baby until she could wrestle with her top enough to feed her. The entire motion was second-nature at this point. She scarcely thought about it, past how weird it made her feel about her own body.
She shook off her worries about her reflection and simply tried to enjoy the moment. Matilda had made her preference clear–she wanted Sebastian mostly, unless she was hungry. Claire was convinced she’d gladly cast her aside entirely if Sebastian had a way of feeding her.
It was a sour thought. Claire had been the one to give up so much for her, not Sebastian.
“Oh, you’re awake,” Sebastian said, stopping just inside the bedroom door.
“You act as if all I do is sleep!”
“Well… you’ve been rather maudlin of late-”
“Don’t start,” Claire snapped, cutting him off. Matilda had finished and was immediately cognizant of her favorite person. She’d begun reaching for him and fussing. “Not you, too.”
Sebastian ignored Claire’s ire and immediately closed the distance between them. He gently pried Matilda from her arms, happily snuggling her close until the baby’s desperate sounds faded into delighted giggles. That was something new she’d begun to do–smiling and giggling. Never for Claire, granted.
“If she’s of a mind to have you, then you can take her. I need to get caught up on the correspondence I’ve missed.”
Sebastian settled Matilda against him and furrowed his brow. “You haven’t checked any of it?”
“How could I? I’ve barely been able to string thoughts together!”
“Joel sent something awhile back. I thought you’d-”
Claire bit back a curse and fled from the room. A sinking pit developed in the depths of her stomach as she saw the stack of unopened mail she’d received. Quickly sorting through it, she found Joel’s last message. It had been weeks before, when Claire had been lost in the throes of dealing with a newborn.
Opening it, she read over the words quickly. Her hands began to shake.
Sebastian knew better than to try and read over her shoulder. He stood some distance away, waiting. His impatience won out as he demanded:
“What does it say?”
Claire nearly dropped the letter, startled by his voice. He’d moved closer upon seeing her panic. He stood near enough to touch.
“Claire.”
“T-They caught it,” she said, trying and failing to blink away her own stupor. “It- he … he’s a shifter, as we expected. But-”
Sebastian’s jaw tightened as her voice cut off. Seeming to sense her father’s growing distress, Matilda began to fuss lightly. He soothed her with gentle pats and kept his eyes on Claire, waiting.
“His mother was pregnant when she was attacked.”
“Fuck,” Sebastian breathed, earning a stern look from Claire. “She doesn’t know what I’m saying.”
“But she will, someday,” Claire scolded.
Her mind was spinning. The unknown werewolf was a Shifter, full-blooded but tainted; infected as a fetus within his mother’s womb after what had to have been a terrifying attack. Claire’s blood ran cold at the thought. Her hand instinctively went to her abdomen.
She’d survived. Given birth. What must she have felt?
Claire felt fear and anxiety enough as it was, but couldn’t imagine going through something so awful.
The gentle pressure of Sebastian’s hand, followed by the warmth of it seeping through her clothing, brought her back. She shook her head and tried to shrug him off. His grip was insistent.
“Claire…”
“I’m alright,” she lied, wiping at her watery eyes. “I’m just- what does this mean for Matilda? The- I suppose we can call it nothing but a hybrid… is male. He’s infected you, and it’s… well, you’ve shown abnormalities. What about Matilda?”
“It doesn’t work that like that-”
“How do you know? Magic defies reasoning,” Claire cut in sharply. “We all know this began as some- some petty curse. Perhaps it’s grown… changed over the centuries.”
“Matilda is fine. I can’t sense anything off about her.”
Claire blinked up at him, surprised. Why hadn’t she considered his superior sense of smell–of knowing ? Hope flitted in, causing the darkness to shrink away.
“Really?”
“I don’t need a blood test to know our daughter is normal,” Sebastian assured, his hand moving to cup Claire’s cheek. She leaned into the touch, realizing absently that it had been ages since she’d allowed him so close. “Relax, sweetheart. Whatever mystery lies within this whole mess, it stops at me.”
Claire relaxed, missing immediately the warmth of his hand as he withdrew it to settle the baby in his arms. Matilda was near the point of sleep, but fighting it like a champion. The older she got, the more she seemed keen not to miss a single thing around her.
“I’d still like to speak with Joel face-to-face.”
“You aren’t going anywhere near the Ministry,” Sebastian warned. “It isn’t safe.”
“Then he’ll come here.”
“Can’t you just meet somewhere in London?”
“You’d rather us go on a date?”
“Absolutely fucking not,” Sebastian all but growled, the entirety of his form bristling at the insinuation, “what’s wrong with you?”
“That’s what you suggested-”
“Don't be cheeky–you know exactly what I meant. The younger werewolves get nervous around him. The Ministry hasn’t exactly been a trusted ally to this lot.”
Claire shrugged. She garnered entirely too much delight in prodding him. It had been so long since she’d gotten a reaction out of him that wasn’t quiet pity or worry.
“Merlin’s fucking sake, Claire. You’re lucky I’m holding our baby.”
Matilda had finally fallen asleep, unaware of the agitation rolling off of her father in waves. Claire could certainly feel it, even through the blunted side of their connection. A shiver ran over her, making warmth blossom where for so long there had only been a numbing chill.
Sebastian continued to mutter angry threats against the mediwizard as he walked towards the bedroom, intent on putting Matilda within her bassinet.
Joel was terrified of Sebastian, and rightfully so. There had been several… miscommunications. The last one had ended with Sebastian’s large hand around Joel’s neck. Claire had been forced to use her Omega tone to save him. He’d been rattled ever since, avoiding Feldcroft as if it bore the muggle plague.
Meeting in London was the only way. She’d just wanted to poke at Sebastian.
Claire’s darkened thoughts had left her feeling wholly alone at times. Convinced her mate no longer desired her as he once had. Who could blame him? Between the messy birth and her long, drawn-out recovery… Claire wasn’t entirely sure she liked herself much, either.
Spring was at its apex, with warm winds wafting in from the sea, causing the long grass to dance and sway. Claire pushed the stray hairs out of her face, frustrated at the wind’s insistence. It rustled her skirts and made it generally miserable to do anything that wasn’t facing it head-on. Even with her hair tied back, it constantly fell into her face.
Matilda giggled, delighted by the brush of air against her face. She’d been born with a full head of thick, brown hair that curled adorably. It had only grown alongside her, not falling out like most once they mature past the newborn stage.
It was her little laugh that kept Claire’s ire at bay. The sound had started only recently, but never failed to soothe whatever ills she felt. Matilda practiced often, finding numerous things to chortle over, the sound developing past the short hiccup towards something longer and defined.
Partly Sebastian’s fault, truth be told. He harassed her at every interval, desperate to draw the laughter out as if it were a healing salve. When he wasn’t locked away trying to figure out the potion to keep him from shifting beneath the moon, he was busy with the werewolves. Claire had been lax in her own duties, causing Sebastian to once more pick up the slack.
With her own moroseness lifting alongside the weather, she nearly felt ready enough to tackle things beyond Matilda’s schedule again. She’d actually managed to crack open a book, though her attention had wavered after only a paragraph.
Claire crossed the distance to the cottage, shocked to see Gwen standing in front of the door.
“Afternoon, Luna,” Gwen greeted, bowing slightly. “Did you have a nice walk?”
“Gods, please don’t tell me Sebastian’s having me followed again.”
“No, Luna. I just assumed you were going stir crazy after the long winter we had.”
Relief filtered through her. She really didn’t need more of a reason to want to throttle her mate at the moment. His overbearingness was trending towards the obnoxious.
“Did you need something, Gwen?”
“I thought maybe you’d let me watch Matilda for a bit…” Gwen said, eyeing the brown-haired baby covetously. “Surely you’d like a break…”
“What’s he planning?”
“What?”
“Don’t be coy. He put you up to this.”
“Fine,” Gwen sighed. “But for future reference, we all love Tilly and are dying for the moment when you’re happy to let us play with her.”
“She’s a baby, Gwen. She can’t play.”
“Shows what you know,” Gwen countered, lifting a brow.
“Out with it!”
“Alpha wants you to himself for a minute; said it was important. I’m supposed to take Matilda and bring her back in an hour.”
Sebastian wanted to speak to her? Without their daughter present?
A cold chill crept over her. Claire repressed the urge to shiver. Her grip on Matilda tightened, causing her to look up at her mother with big, round eyes.
“W-What if I don’t want to?”
“I’m not entirely sure it’s a choice, Luna…”
Claire’s chest tightened painfully. It took an act of the gods themselves to allow Gwen to take Matilda from her arms. She reached out after the baby, who was too preoccupied looking at Gwen. The young werewolf had always been quite good with her, seemingly knowing exactly how to hold her and treat her without much coaching.
“She’ll be alright, Luna. I promise.”
Claire wasn’t worried about Matilda. She didn’t dare say that aloud, however. She simply gave them a wan smile and opened the door with a shaky hand
Inside, nothing seemed amiss. It was as she'd left it hours before. There was no immediate sign of Sebastian as she closed the door behind her and stepped further into the living space.
Claire's heart thundered within her chest. She wasn't afraid of Sebastian; he wouldn't hurt her physically. It was more the mental and emotional pain she feared.
Had he finally had enough? They hadn't had sex since before Matilda had been born. Claire couldn't remember the last time they'd kissed or shared any sort of intimacy. She'd been too lost in her own fog to even consider it.
He was going to cast her off. The promises, the bite… their bond. Her heart clenched at the thought of it. She didn't want to lose him. She didn't want anyone else.
Claire was so overwrought she'd stopped walking. Her knees threatened to buckle. Anger and sadness warred within her.
Did he really mean to throw her aside just because she'd been a bit strange? Giving birth was no small thing!
She barely noticed the fact that she was no longer alone. Sebastian had snuck up on her, the touch of his hand on her upper arm making her nearly jump out of her skin in fright.
Claire's scream made Sebastian pull back.
“What's gotten into you?”
“Me?” Claire's eyes were wet. She fought back tears as she struggled to speak. “You're the insensitive bastard intending to cast me off!”
“What?”
“Why else would you want me alone?”
“Claire-”
“I cannot believe you! After everything- it wasn't easy, you realize. Giving birth. Adjusting to this- to everything!” Claire's arms swung wide. Tears streaked her cheeks. “How could you?”
“You're a loon.”
Claire's gasp of indignation was cut off by Sebastian’s mouth slanted over hers. A rush of heat surged through her, familiar and missed. His arm around her back pulled her closer until her limbs were wrapped around him and their tongues met.
By the time he released her, Claire's lungs were burning. She panted, her entire face warm and flushed.
He caressed her cheek, clearing away the tracks the tears had left. It was impossible to miss the way his eyes searched hers, concern and tenderness lining his expression.
“Did you really just call me a loon?”
“Did you really just accuse me of casting you aside?”
Claire said nothing, her angled brows more than enough of a response.
Sebastian chuckled, nuzzling against her jaw and her neck. She curled into him, chasing the warmth and the pleasure his touch brought. She hadn't realized just how much she'd missed it.
“How can you still think so little of me?”
“I didn't-” Claire's mouth snapped shut. She had. She was a fool.
There was nothing but adoration in his eyes when he looked at her. The reverence he felt towards her had only grown in the past months.
“I love you, you maddening little witch. I'll have you whatever way I can–even if it's frosty and distant.”
Claire fought the urge to fold her arms and sulk like a child. How dare he be so accepting!
“Then why? Why go to the trouble of trying to fool me?”
“Because I wanted a moment with you. Alone.”
Claire shivered. Gwen was only meant to be gone an hour. That wasn't nearly long enough-
“As much as I like where your mind just went, that's not why,” Sebastian said, stealing a kiss. He tipped her chin so she had no choice but to look at him. “There's still the matter of our marriage to settle up. Your parents have been quite insistent that I not forget…”
Claire's lips parted in surprise. Words failed her as Sebastian took her hand and placed a lingering kiss on the ring upon her finger. She hadn't taken it off. Not once.
“As if I could forget. I was just waiting for you to feel well enough to handle talking about it.”
Again, Claire felt ashamed. She slumped, nearly falling to the floor before Sebastian caught her. The strong comfort of his arms grounded her, halting the spiral downward.
“Sebastian…”
“I know you said before that you didn't require anything grand and romantic, but what if I want that?”
“What?”
“Well… not grand, but certainly something beyond signing a paper. We could do it here. The weather's perfect. There's that spot you like near the cliffs.”
“I'm sorry. Did you just say that you want a proper wedding?”
“Is that so unbelievable?”
Claire looked him over. Nothing about Sebastian screamed ‘romantic.’ He was well fit but his demeanor gave domineering and mischief, not rose petals and whimsy.
Sebastian's expression fell, seemingly able to read the path of her thoughts.
“Really, Claire?”
All her rebuttals were awful, she realized. Sebastian had shown her, time and time again, how different he was from her expectation of him. Why did she still struggle to believe him?
“I'm sorry.”
“It hurts, I can't lie.”
“I'm not- it's not meant to hurt you-”
“I love you, Claire. I've been quite earnest about that fact and you've rewarded it with suspicion. What more must I do to prove myself?”
“It's not you, Sebastian. It's me.”
Claire sighed heavily and turned away. It was just like her to make what should have been a wonderful conversation about their future into something morose. Couldn't she do anything right? It wasn't fair.
Before she could fall entirely into self-pity, Sebastian hugged her from behind. He held her gently, his face buried in her hair. Once more, his presence soothed her. The warmth she'd missed moved through her anew.
She wanted him pressed into her skin. To marry their essences together until they were one.
“Whatever you need, sweetheart. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.”
They were the words she needed to hear. Claire all but collapsed back against him, her chest heaving as she fought back the urge to sob. Why couldn't she seem to go back to normal? Why did everything feel so irreparably different?
Sebastian squeezed her tighter. He whispered soothingly just above her ear, refusing to ease up until Claire's despondency subsided.
She spun in his embrace and buried her head against his chest. The warm, earthen scent of him shot straight to her soul. They'd spent months orbiting around one another but at a distance.
She'd missed him. Terribly.
“Marry me, sweetheart. Properly. I promise it won't be more than you can tolerate.”
Claire's sniffly laugh was muffled by his chest. She wasn't adverse to romance. Everything with them had just happened so fast.
“I'll warn you now that there's honestly no other option. You're stuck with me, regardless, and I'll have you down that aisle one way or another.”
“You pushy prat.” Claire backed up to look at him only for Sebastian to cup her cheek and kiss her.
She leaned into it, lifting into the tips of her toes as his tongue brushed hers. Heat suffused her skin, her nerves coming back to life as his hand smoothed down the length of her arm.
Just as Claire felt her trepidation fade, the door opened. Sebastian gently broke the kiss, nuzzling her cheek as he turned to greet Gwen.
The teenager at least had the decency to look abashed.
“Sorry! It was- you said an hour and I-”
“You’re right,” Sebastian said, taking Matilda gently from her arms. “You did well. You can go.”
Gwen looked between Sebastian and Claire before giving a small nod. She was gone as quickly as she’d arrived.
Matilda immediately began to fuss. Claire sighed and snatched the baby from Sebastian, who’d barely gotten a chance to greet her. She knew that sound well. Hunger .
“I suppose I can tolerate a wedding–but nothing too out of pocket, alright? And you’d best tell my parents. They’ll be devastated if they’re not involved.”
Claire left Sebastian grinning in the living area, her own smile hidden by her retreat.
It should have occurred to Claire that Sebastian’s patience was limited. When she’d given him leave to do as he wished, wedding-wise, she hadn’t anticipated it would happen so… quickly.
A week. Sebastian had only taken a week to get everything sorted. Claire’s parents appeared, a mixture of anxious and happy, alongside Claire’s foreign, Omega friends, Claudia and Virginie. It was honestly impressive Virginie had made the trip, heavily pregnant as she was.
Claire had been ushered into her bedroom and swept into a simple white gown with beaded embellishments. It was perfectly understated, highlighting what Claire favored most in her clothing–ease of motion with a touch of class.
Diane had nearly wept upon seeing her, unable to pull her into a soggy hug due to Matilda occupying her arms. Peter had no such compunction, sweeping her into a fatherly embrace that left a tear or two clinging to her hair. Her French friends tittered and ushered her towards a mirror, where they finished her hair. It was left down, swept over her shoulders, with a braid on either side joined at the back.
Claudia placed little flowers within the braids in lieu of a veil. Virginie startled Claire by pinching her cheeks, muttering something about bringing some color to her pale face.
It hardly helped. Claire was suddenly very nervous. It made little sense. Marriage hardly mattered within the Being world. It was a piece of paper, little more, and she’d already taken the most massive step by joining herself to Sebastian with a mating bond. That was a bit more difficult to remove. You couldn’t just stride to the Ministry and demand a divorce from your mate.
Despite her anxiety, Claire couldn’t help but feel pretty for the first time in ages. She looked at her reflection, stunned by what she saw. The sleepless nights and the unfamiliarity of her post-pregnancy body hardly seemed to matter. Her pale countenance had begun to shift, giving way to a delightful flush that only deepened as she continued staring at herself.
She looked ethereal–like a nymph from muggle mythology.
Diane appeared behind her, her eyes misty. She smiled as Claire spun to face her, a wordless conversation passing between them. It would be alright, Claire knew. She’d realized it the second her mother had taken one look at Matilda’s little face and her furrowed brow had softened.
“Come along, poppet. It’s time,” Peter said, offering her his arm.
Claire’s breath was stolen when she stepped from the cottage. She hadn’t been allowed outside all day. Sebastian had demanded she not ruin his surprise.
He’d likely enlisted the entire village in his plot. A trail of white flowers led from the door, all the way towards the exterior of the village. They were magically conjured, disappearing as she stepped over them into glittering butterflies that swept past the edge of her dress. Everything was done up in white flowers and soft, sweeping ribbons. Understated, yet lovely, just like Claire’s dress.
It had somehow escaped her that he’d had a hand in that, as well. She’d foolishly assumed her mother had been responsible.
Claire gripped her father tightly as her stomach clenched in nervousness and excitement. This was it. She was a mate, yes, but it was a marriage she’d dreamed of as a forgotten, ignored little girl and adolescent. It had never seemed attainable.
Her coterie broke apart as they reached the spot she’d come to know so well–the rush of the waves a distant din as they crashed against the cliffs far below. She could glimpse the mountain, ringed in fog at the top, with magical beasts littering its periphery in small clusters. The air was sweet with spring blooms, the wind no longer riotous, but gentle as Claire stepped amidst the werewolves.
Sebastian awaited her at the end, his expression shifting away from nervousness to absolute adoration at the sight of her. Claire noted how he’d gripped his own hand tightly in an effort to stay still, the urge to run and collect her nearly too great to ignore. Peter walked her the rest of the way before giving her over to him.
“You look stunning,” Sebastian murmured, bending to press a kiss to her temple. “I knew that dress would be perfect.”
Claire flushed at the compliment, her own attention stolen by him. She’d seen him dressed up at the gala; Sebastian was lovely regardless of what he wore, but she much preferred him as he was. He’d leaned into that versus being too formal, with trousers and a shirt that fit him like sin. The jacket he wore was conjured, she knew from the smell of magic permeating from it, and brown, with beaded embroidery that matched her dress along the sleeves and hem.
Such painstaking attention to detail. It made her heart flutter.
It was a relatively casual ceremony, conducted by one of the werewolves’ mates who’d once been ordained in wizarding weddings. He bound their hands with a magical cord, which still managed to coil and flare up, despite Sebastian no longer being entirely a wizard.
None of it compared to their already shared bond, but Claire appreciated the gesture, nonetheless. She was near-teary throughout, forced to swallow back her sniffles as she struggled through her vows. Sebastian’s were enough to make her actually cry. By the end of it, she’d grabbed him by the lapel and kissed him before the officiant even had a chance to instruct them to.
A riotous amount of applause and cheers rose up. Claire was shocked to see that even her French friends were misty-eyed. The afternoon was spent in celebratory bliss, with the two worlds Claire now existed within finally able to coexist peacefully
Sebastian watched as Claire removed flowers from her hair. She was struggling–her hands shaking with an anxiety that had no reason to be present. Whatever elation she’d felt during the ceremony had gone the second Diane and Peter had taken Matilda off to one of the other cottages. As if reality had once more settled in and now she’d have to ‘face the music.’
He’d heard a muggle say it once and it had stuck, like an earworm of a song you couldn’t shake. It applied best here. Claire acted as if she were marching towards the executioner's block. She’d shown less trepidation as a mousy virgin when they’d been strangers.
Sebastian knew he needed to ease her mind, to seek the source of her continued hesitancy and squash it, but he was enjoying watching her squirm. It was a darker part of him that he rarely got to engage with–the feeling of superiority that came with knowing someone’s fear of him was insignificant, though he’d play into it gladly.
It was cruel, perhaps, but Sebastian had never claimed to be a saint. Whatever ailed Claire was her own mind’s imaginings and the thought of trying to untangle that knot was daunting. The connection would let him know when it was too much. Already, he felt the tightening in his chest as her anxiety spurred him into motion; the desperate need to ensure his mate was not only happy, but physically well, nearly too much to deny, even for his own perverse pleasures.
He moved from where he’d been leaning, his coat already discarded. Claire jumped when he approached, towering over her from behind, his fingers meeting hers as he easily dispatched the last of the flowers. They were lovely little blooms–magically conjured to appear fresh and alive until removed, withering into nothingness before they descended to the floor.
Claire watched him anxiously through their shared reflection. When Sebastian tried to catch her gaze, she quickly flicked her eyes away, her teeth at her lip. A pleasant flush colored her face, the barest traces of perspiration from the celebrations still evident along her temples. She was lovely. The bond between them pulled taut, thrumming with an insistence that near-mirrored when his rut had coincided with her heat.
There’d be no fear of that. Not for some time yet. Beings’ bodies knew what they were capable of. Unlike wizards and witches, fertility only returned when it was viable . Especially for an Omega.
Sebastian brushed his fingers through her freed hair. He loosened the tangles at the end, his fingertips dancing along the exposed parts of her skin. She shivered with every lingering touch, the invisible tether between them so strained it was nearly deafening.
They hadn’t been intimate since before Matilda had been born. Sebastian had respected Claire’s need to heal, to adjust. He’d thought it would end after a few weeks and she’d be back to normal, but a strange miasma had seemed to cloud around her the longer time went on. The bond warned him away from her, signaling that whatever distress she felt, it wasn’t one he could fix.
The absence hurt–physically and mentally. Mates weren’t meant to be apart, in any way, but it was made worse by their designations. Just because Claire didn’t feel like having sex doesn’t mean the natural allure of her pheromones had dissipated. They’d returned with a vengeance some weeks ago. Sebastian had been forced to avoid getting too close to her since, lest he do something to upset her.
Matilda had been a good distraction. Sebastian had her everywhere with him always, provided Claire allowed it. Her time spent sleeping had been his boon. Whatever lack he felt in their strained bond he filled with their daughter’s presence. She was a consistent reminder of Claire’s love; whatever transpired afterward would eventually wane. She loved him and chose to remain with him, going so far as to give him a child.
If he could assure himself that he wasn’t losing her then Sebastian could be patient. He could wait.
But it had taken a long time. Much longer than he’d anticipated.
“Sebastian…” Claire’s words tapered off into a sigh, her eyes shuttering as he slid her hair away from her neck.
“I’ve missed you, sweetheart,” Sebastian murmured, kissing the claiming mark near her pulse. “The way you taste, smell…”
Claire melted against him, his hands on her waist gently holding her steady. Whatever trepidation she’d felt was melting away beneath the tenderness of his words, his motions. He nosed long her jaw and inhaled deeply, the scent of her warm and soothing. He’d caught whiffs of it when she’d pass over their child, clinging to Matilda like a gentle reassurance.
It felt like ages since he’d been so close to the source. Since it had been given so freely.
Sebastian stole a glance at their reflection, Claire’s silent surrender obvious in how she’d all but fallen back against him, her head canted to the side, exposing the bite along her neck completely. He watched himself as he licked along the marks. The muscles in her throat tensed as her lips parted. The flush that had been building beneath her skin deepened, extending down beneath her dress.
It was hard to look away, to focus on the touch and the scent that was driving him half-mad when the picture of everything he’d ever wanted lay before him. Sebastian had nearly given up, had resigned himself to his fate when the hero had swept him up in her whirlwind. There wasn’t a chance she’d ever settle down–not with her magic and the cache she’d absorbed beneath Hogwarts.
Just when he’d been set to give up, life had practically thrown little, unsuspecting Claire into his lap. Becoming infected with lycanthropy should have been the end–a death knell to his dreams. Instead, it had been the beginning.
Sebastian snapped back to the present when he felt Claire begin to try and remove her dress. He clamped his hands over her shoulders and shook his head.
“Keep this on. I like it.”
The look of hurt that flashed across Claire’s face made Sebastian’s heart clench within his chest.
“No, sweetheart… you misunderstand,” he said, turning her gently. He held her cheeks and urged her to look at him. “You cannot know how long I’ve wanted you, like this . My mate… my wife. As eager as I am to have you out of it… I’d like to have you in it, first.”
Claire blinked up at him, realization dawning. The blush deepened into an almost red, her eyes widening.
Before she could scold him, Sebastian caught her lips with his. He didn’t hesitate as his hands slid away from her face to pull her closer. The fabric of her dress was soft beneath his calloused palms, the tease of her body beneath it enough to make the pain at the front of his trousers near-unbearable.
Her tongue met his eagerly, the taste of her sending whatever ambitions he had about being patient another second thrown to the wind. He all but devoured her, forcing her back against the dresser until it bumped against the wall, the mirror affixed to the top shifting slightly.
With a quick motion, he lifted her up onto it. Her dress ruched up invitingly around her hips as he took the space between her thighs. Sebastian’s lips switched to her throat, her collarbone, as her chest heaved with each attempt to draw in air. Her skin was hot to the touch, the smell of her already shifting to something heavier. Filled with the promise of toffee on his tongue, Sebastian dropped to his knees.
Claire nearly hit her head on the mirror as she threw it back. Her previous hesitancy seemed silly, suddenly. Why had she been so afraid? So convinced Sebastian’s view of her had changed simply because she’d had a child? The distance had been her own doing–fueled by her postnatal haze and the hormones that had run riot through her.
None of it compared. The bond wrapped around her like a comforting fog, the feel of Sebastian’s hands hot against her thighs making her trepidation turn to anticipation. She shivered and shook beneath the weight of it, her slick betraying her attempts to seem composed. She’d been wet near the entire time, despite herself; the familiar, earthen smell of him like a long-missed companion.
Claire couldn’t remember losing her knickers, but when Sebastian’s tongue found her, there was no barrier. She was shameless, throwing her legs over his shoulders and pulling him tight. Already, she could feel the coil of release building as his fingertips teased along the edge of her cunt, his lips and tongue at her clit.
She hardly needed the preparation, but she appreciated the effort. Her legs shook as she stabilized herself against the dresser with one hand and placed the other within his thick hair. Gripping it by the roots, she urged him on, her toes curling helplessly against the air, every muscle within her tight with an eagerness that could not be denied.
For a moment, Claire forgot to breathe. It slammed into her with the force of the Hogwarts Express at full speed, seizing every nerve within her body. She made a sound, she knew, but her ears had stopped working momentarily.
All it had taken was Sebastian’s finger within her and she’d crumpled. Too long. It had been entirely too long.
Claire felt an emptiness that was beyond reasoning as he withdrew. She was struck with the urge to tear her dress to shreds as she slipped free of the dresser. Ignoring her uneasy footing, she began to pull at it, the weight of the fabric entirely too much.
Sebastian’s insane wants be damned. He could fuck her in it later, but she’d have it off now, one way or another.
Seeming to understand her desperate need, Sebastian assisted until it pooled around her feet. The air against her naked skin had her breasts tightening, her nipples already formed into tight, oversensitive peaks. It was almost too much, but she focused instead on how overdressed her mate was.
She wanted his skin against hers until their scents were so tangled up they were indiscernible. She needed him inscribed upon her like ancient runes, rivets dug into her skin, until they were as inescapable as time itself.
Claire jumped on him the second Sebastian had removed the last bit of clothing, surprising him. He stumbled backward with a laugh, nearly falling to his arse on the floor. She wrapped around him greedily, the feeling of his warm, hardened body against hers like a match to kindling.
With her hands fisted in his hair, Claire brought his lips to hers. She kissed him as if he possessed all the air she’d ever need, barely registering that he’d managed to maneuver them to the bed. When he broke away, it was to sit with her straddling his lap. His cock slotted against her cunt, absolutely soaked from her previous release and her eagerness to be filled.
Instead of driving into her, Sebastian teased along the edge. He kissed her tenderly as his hands slid over her body, relearning the curves and contours of the figure she’d hidden away from him. Little had changed, save for the swelling of her breasts and the slight bit of skin around her navel and hips. He gripped her by her arse–which had been sizable even before pregnancy–and pulled her down over him.
Claire gasped, head canted back, as his thick head pushed past the seal of her cunt. As an Omega, she’d always be able to welcome him, but it had been so long she’d forgotten what it felt like to take him. The thought that she’d ever have been able to return to normal males was laughable, honestly. She’d been an idiot before, naive and desperate for normalcy.
Contrary to her expectations, Sebastian was exceedingly gentle. He did not thrust within her like a savage, rather he gave her time to adjust, slowly bringing her further down over him until he lay sheathed within her. The bulge of his knot at the base teased along the edges of her cunt and sent fissures of electricity along her limbs.
Claire wanted him in his entirety–to the absolute hilt–but she adored that he was thinking of her even through the haze of their mutual arousal. His pheromones were threading through her like a curse so she knew he was suffering similarly.
“So pretty, so perfect,” he murmured along her cheek, kissing a line towards her jaw, down along her throat. He licked and nipped at the mark, causing her cunt to clench in response. “All mine.”
The possessiveness no longer bothered her. Claire had given in to it at some point during her pregnancy, the realization even more concrete once she’d given birth. She wouldn’t want to share any of this with anyone else–couldn’t even fathom giving this part of her to anyone but him.
She was his as much as he was hers. The possession went both ways, a truth she’d been ignorant to before.
Claire cried out as she felt pointed teeth break the skin. A trickle of blood ran down, curving alongside her breast. Sebastian had bit her shoulder in time with a slow thrust, stealing both her breath and her wits. He held fast, his tongue soothing around the wound even as he refused to let go. Claire grabbed onto him as he continued to move within her, driving all rational thought from her brain.
She could scarcely breathe with the intensity of the sensations. Every inch of her skin felt as if it had been set aflame, each push and pull of his cock within her stoking the flames even further. Sebastian didn’t release her with his teeth until she’d begun clawing at him and making desperate sounds, ones she scarcely recognized as coming from her own lips.
Closing the bite with his tongue, Sebastian guided her into a kiss. The tang of her own blood did nothing to discourage her, the ache along her shoulder only adding fuel to the fire.
“You’re mine, sweetheart… body, mind, and soul,” he ground out, breaking from her hips to catch her hazy gaze. He held her cheek with his hand, moving within her with such methodical slowness it was near driving her into a frenzy.
“Don’t hide from me. Don’t doubt me–doubt this,” Sebastian continued, grinding within her. The bond pulled taut at his urging, a yoke she’d willingly submitted to.
It made her nerves sing, the primal need to be filled and claimed overtaking her. Claire’s Omega had come to the forefront, guiding her as it did whenever her heat struck. She was little more than need made manifest in that moment, eager and desperate, unashamed by her want.
“I love you,” Sebastian said against her lips, responding to her desperation with quickened thrusts that brought his knot closer and closer to being within her.
Claire nodded, whimpering as she tried once more to capture him entirely. Instead of holding her back, Sebastian timed his thrust alongside it and with a cry, Claire took his knot. It expanded further, locking them in place and making her vision white-out temporarily. Her nerves were overwrought, the sensation raging through her like fiendfyre.
When Claire came to, she was gasping and panting. Sebastian remained seated within her, the spasms of his cock signaling his own release filling her. She slumped against him, his chest slick with sweat, the hair along it damp as she threaded it through her fingers.
Sebastian gently took her by the cheeks and kissed her, nuzzling her as her eyes fluttered shut.
“I love you,” he repeated softly, dragging his lips along her skin.
Claire let herself melt against him, no longer anguished by the fact that they were locked together. She buried her head against his shoulder, repressing the urge to lick along his salty skin.
“I love you,” she answered, barely above a whisper.
The way he squeezed her into a hug signaled that he’d heard.
“How long until you’ll give me another?”
Claire’s head snapped up. She’d been watching Matilda feed, her fingers in her thick, chestnut hair. She was such a cute baby, even when her budding teeth caught Claire’s nipple.
“What?”
Sebastian had been gone most of the day, seeing to the day-to-day within Feldcroft. Half the cottage was in disarray, with preparations being made to extend it. He’d been insistent on doing it both magically and manually, something Claire had questioned until she remembered just how much of his magic he still possessed.
Magic did not diminish any of the agony that came with a remodel, however.
“She’s barely a year,” Claire said, shooting him a look once she’d recovered from her shock. “Can’t you just enjoy her? You’re so greedy.”
“A fact I’ve never denied, as you’ll recall,” Sebastian said, sauntering towards her. The second Matilda caught sight of him, she ripped free of Claire’s breast.
“Ouch! Gods, Sebastian, how many times must I tell you-”
It was too late. Sebastian had already begun pulling Matilda into his arms, her chubby hands reaching towards him. Claire shot them both a nasty look as she nursed her sore nipple, easing her breast back into the confines of her blouse.
“You’re both selfish blights.”
“Don’t listen to her, Tilly,” Sebastian cooed at his daughter, poking her sizable cheeks. She was his mirror, to be certain, possessing almost nothing of Claire’s save for her complexion. “She’s just jealous.”
“Really?” Claire huffed, arms folded. She thought better of it as pain zinged through her injured breast. “This is hardly endearing me to having another, Sebastian.”
“It could be a boy. Perhaps he’d favor you more.”
“Don’t be an arse.”
Sebastian grinned at her, Matilda tucked safely in his arm. She sat upright, gripping onto him, her bright, brown eyes looking nowhere but at him as if he were the sun, moon, and the stars.
Claire’s anger flared up worse. Now she was in pain and annoyed.
“You realize your heats will begin again soon.”
“And I’ll have your potion to keep me from being inundated with an entire slew of greedy, selfish little copycat Sebastians.”
Sebastian winced. He’d revealed to her weeks before that his attempts with Ominis had been a success. Instead of working on his lycanthropy potion, he’d found a way to brew a stronger potion to prevent pregnancies in Omegas during their heats. It was a boon for the entire designation, having been sent out to test amongst her French friends first.
“We love you plenty.”
“Sure you do.” Claire rolled her eyes and stood. “I was going to take her to my parents, but you’ll do in a pinch. Are you alright to keep her?”
“What? What meeting? You didn’t tell me-”
“I did tell you, but you were entirely too busy trying to get into my knickers to listen,” Claire snapped back, though her anger was muted. “I’m going to the Ministry to meet with the administrators. To discuss the changes being made within the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures department.”
“Oh, right… suppose that rings a bell. That’s today?”
“Yes. I told you this morning.”
Sebastian had the decency to look sheepish. “I was distracted.”
“I’ll be back in the evening. There’s milk in the fridge if Matilda decides she’s hungry again, seeing as how you’ve interrupted her lunch.”
“I had some luck giving her food the other day-”
“Then you can try your hand at that, too, if you like.” Claire collected her messenger bag from the corner and slung it on. She smoothed out her attire, which toed the line between business-like and casual. “Should I change?”
“No. And my scent should ensure you’re left moderately alone…”
Sebastian had remembered why he’d been distracted. Claire had mentioned the meeting and he’d gone into a frenzy trying to mark her in every way possible. He couldn’t go with her and the thought of her being harassed had made him anxious.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t give the wrong idea to those I’m meeting with.”
“They won’t notice,” Sebastian scoffed. “They’re too frigid and normal.”
Claire pressed a kiss to Matilda’s cheek, who seemed to remember she existed for only a brief second. Long enough to coo ‘mama’ before reverting back to Sebastian’s willing thrall.
She tried, and failed, to avoid Sebastian. He’d used his free arm to pull her into him, careful not to jostle Matilda as he bent to kiss her properly. She pushed against his chest when he tried to deepen it, his smile against her lips only frustrating her further. He grabbed her arse and squeezed before she escaped entirely.
“Stop being randy in front of our daughter,” Claire scolded, swatting harmlessly at him. “She’ll soon be old enough to realize what’s happening.”
“And she’ll know that we love each other very much.”
“More like she’ll know her father is a randy deviant.”
“Me?” Sebastian feigned offense. “I’ll remind you of this conversation the next time you drag me outside-”
“Shush!” Claire had begun to blush. “I need to be in my right mind for this meeting.”
“Go on, then. Good luck. Not that you’ll need it.”
Claire smiled and waved, gathering her wand and the rest of her things as she rushed towards the door. She took a deep breath, willed herself to calm, and stepped outside.
Change.
It didn’t always have to be a bad thing.