DANIEL’S POV
For the first ten years of my life, all I wanted was siblings.
Being an only child didn’t suck, per se. I was my mom’s world, and my dad, grandparents, and pack members adored me, but at the end of the day, it got lonely.
I wanted to tackle little boys who looked like me and tickle little girls who mirrored my mom. I craved chaos and laughter and…presence.
Well, I got what I wanted—and then some.
First came Sophia.
She was born when I was ten, and from the moment Dad placed her in my arms—all five pounds of wrinkled baby wrapped in a pink blanket—I was hopelessly smitten.
As soon as she could move, Sophia followed me around like I was the most fascinating thing in existence, and whenever I came home from training or school, her little face would light up as if I were a long-lost love returning from war.
She started calling me Dani before she could properly pronounce her own name, and that nickname stuck with the ones to follow.
