Luca's POV
Kai's first birthday is a massive pack celebration.
"This is too much," I tell Rian, surveying the decorations.
"Nothing is too much for our son's first birthday." He's in full Alpha mode—directing pack members, arranging everything perfectly.
"He won't even remember this."
"But we will. And there are pictures." He pulls me close. "Let me celebrate our son."
I can't argue with that.
The party is beautiful—hundreds of pack members, gifts piled high, a massive cake shaped like a wolf.
"He's going to love this," Sara says, helping with decorations.
Kai himself is oblivious—playing with wrapping paper, more interested in boxes than presents.
"Typical baby," I laugh, watching him.
"Our baby," Rian corrects, pride evident. "Our perfect one-year-old."
When it's time for cake, we put Kai in his high chair. Place a small cake in front of him.
He stares at it, confused. Touches it tentatively. Then demolishes it—face, hands, hair covered in frosting.
The pack howls with laughter. Rian and I are taking dozens of photos.
"This is perfect," I say, watching our son enjoying his cake.
"This is everything," Rian agrees, arm around my waist.
After cake, presents. Kai is overwhelmed—toys, clothes, books, everything a growing wolf pup could need.
"Thank you, everyone," I address the pack. "For loving Kai. For celebrating with us. For being our family."
Howls of approval.
That evening, after everyone leaves and Kai is bathed and asleep, Rian and I collapse.
"Exhausted," I groan.
"But worth it." He pulls me close. "Our son's first birthday. Can't believe he's one already."
"Time flies." I snuggle into him. "He's growing so fast."
"Too fast. Want to keep him little forever."
"Can't do that. He needs to grow, develop, become who he's meant to be."
"I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it." He kisses my forehead. "Thank you. For giving me this. A son to celebrate, a family to love."
"Thank you for being an amazing father. Kai's lucky to have you."
"We're both lucky. To have each other. To have him."
Later, making love quietly, we celebrate our own way—reconnecting, reaffirming, loving.
"Another year together," I breathe.
"Lifetime more to go." He moves deeper. "Forever, Luca."
"Forever," I agree.
The next morning, Kai wakes us early—babbling happily, standing in his crib, ready for the day.
"Morning, birthday boy," Rian says, lifting him. "How's our one-year-old?"
Kai babbles enthusiastically, patting Rian's face.
"He's telling you about his party," I interpret.
"Best party ever, right Kai?" Rian nuzzles him. "Because you're the best son ever."
Watching them—my husband and my son, both with golden eyes and dark hair, both mine—my heart swells.
One year ago, I was terrified of being a parent.
Now I can't imagine life without this.