“I was trying to decide if I needed to rescue you,” her friend responded.
Jen ignored her and looked over at Decebel. She held out a small cooler. “Mission accomplished. Could you put these in the fridge?”
The miniature kitchen in their suite had a small refrigerator, which kept them from having to go to the mansion’s main kitchen every time they needed milk for a bottle. But they hadn’t really utilized the bottles just yet. Jen had been trying to nurse since they’d returned home. She said she’d read that a new mother shouldn’t use a bottle or pacifier for several weeks to avoid ‘nipple confusion.’ When she’d explained this to Decebel, he’d responded, “Even an idiot couldn’t confuse an imitation nipple for the real deal.” In hindsight, however, he knew he should have simply nodded and left it at that. After his comment, she’d offered him a bottle nipple, pacifier, and blindfold. He’d only grinned, of course. But the grin was quickly wiped from his face when she’d added, “Hope you learn to enjoy those as much as the real deal, fur butt, because you just got boob blocked.”
“What the… What did I say?” He growled.
“You compared our daughter to an idiot, you testosterone-filled, walking hair ball.”
Needless to say, the conversation had only gone downhill from there. There was no reasoning with the woman. He’d finally concluded that, in order to keep Jennifer from beating him with the breast pump, he’d have to keep his mouth shut.
Decebel took the cooler and walked over to the fridge while listening to the girls talk. He’d called Jacque and asked her to come over. He felt like a failure, having to call on someone else to help his mate, but he was in unknown territory, like navigating a field of landmines, unsure when one wrong step or word would cause an explosion.
The three women gathered in the small sitting area and all began to speak at once. The conversation was a convoluted mess. But Decebel was no longer surprised that each one heard and understood the others perfectly during the cacophony. He leaned against the wall closest to Thia’s bassinet and crossed his arms over his chest. Normally, he’d flee from the room when the three troublemakers were together, but his damn wolf wouldn’t let him stray too far from his vulnerable mate. And Decebel understood the beast. The man was trying not to smother her, but in their current state, especially having a brand-new pup, his wolf was mostly in control, and it commanded he stay. There was nothing the man could do to change his mind.
He saw Thia stirring out of the corner of his eye and walked over to pick her up. Letting a soothing rumble roll through his chest as he pressed her close to him, he walked to the other side of the suite and sat in a rocking chair. He remembered when the thing had been delivered. He’d taken one look at it and seriously doubted it would support his weight. But to his surprise, it didn’t even creak when he sat.
Thia’s eyes blinked open, and he made sure to hold her up high on his chest. He’d read in one of those books his mate now hated that a newborn’s eyesight was very poor, and they could only really see from the distance between the chest and face. But he didn’t know if that held true for a Canis lupus. For all he knew, she could see much better than a human child. But he had no way to know for sure, and he wanted to be sure that Thia could see him clearly, that she knew she was safe and not just floating through the air. He pressed his nose gently to her tiny neck and breathed deeply before blowing his breath out on her. She smelled so clean and, though the man enjoyed the scent, the wolf wanted their pup covered in their smell.Our blood runs through her veins, Decebel reminded the beast.
She will learn our scent faster if we scent mark her. His wolf challenged. The wolf was right. Yes, he was as possessive and protective of his child as he was his fiery mate. For a brief moment, very brief, he felt bad for Thia because Decebel knew he’d have no patience for mangy males when they came sniffing around as his daughter grew older. But then he remembered his sister, and the momentary sympathy was gone.
“I will keep you safe, little one,” he said softly. “You will no doubt drive me crazy, but you will never wonder if you’re loved or cherished. Try and remember that when I beat your suitors to a bloody mess.”
Thia blinked up at him, no real expression on her face. She was just sort of there. But Decebel could tell the girl knew Jen and he were different from others that held her. She quieted with them and seemed to pay more attention when either of them spoke to her. But she was brand new and still developing, so there were few cute smiles or cooing sounds. In his eyes, she was adorable just the same.
“I’ve no doubt formula can provide nutrients for Thia.” Decebel heard his mate’s voice rising as she spoke with her two best friends.
“Then why don’t you cut yourself some slack?” Jacque asked. “You won’t be considered a failure if you don’t breastfeed.”
“You haven’t turned into one of those moms who judges everyone who doesn’t breastfeed as some inhumane lunatic who doesn’t care for their child, have you?” Sally asked.
Decebel squeezed his eyes closed. “Shouldn’t have gone there, healer,” he muttered, knowing what was coming.
“I am not a boob snob,” Jen snarled. “And you can’t pretend to understand what it feels like to want to have this experience with the child that was with you nonstop for nine months and is suddenly not really with you anymore, not like she was during the pregnancy. It’s like cooking a Christmas feast, so excited to feed everyone, knowing they will enjoy it so much, and then the food comes out all burnt, and all that’s left is bologna sandwiches on the heel end of the bread.”
“Hold up,” Jacque said. “Just to be clear, the breastfeeding is the Christmas feast and the formula is the bologna sandwich?”
“On the heel end of the bread,” Jen added with a huff.
“Because it kind of sounded like the baby was the burnt feast…” added Sally.
“Yeah, I’m not sure the metaphor applies,” continued Jacque.
Jen growled in frustration. “Just go with it,” she said.
Decebel chuckled as softly as he could, not wanting to draw his mate’s attention. “Your mother has a way of describing things that is a bit … unorthodox. If you inherit it, I’m sunk,” he said to his wide-eyed daughter. The girl’s head turned slightly at the sound of Jen’s, voice and Dec saw the beginnings of a hangry cry coming on. He wasn’t sure if he should resort to the bottle and the breast milk Jen had pumped or hand Thia over to the girl’s tired, frustrated mother. If he resorted to the bottle, Jen might freak because of the nipple confusion stuff and turn her fury on him. But if he handed Thia over, then Jen might feel overwhelmed and start crying again. Fury or tears? It was a lose/lose situation.
After thinking about it for a few moments, he made his choice. He’d much rather deal with Jen’s sharp tongue than be heartbroken over her sorrow. Just as he was heading for the fridge, a loud wail exploded from the baby. It broke through the girls’ conversation, and everything went quiet. Everything except Thia, that is.How could something so small scream like that?
Jen intercepted him before he could make it to the fridge and snatched the girl from his arms. Decebel watched his mate’s face for any signs she might join her own tears with Thia’s. Her mouth was pulled in a straight line across her face, and her eyes were hard with the determination he’d always admired in her.
“You good?” he asked her, cupping her cheek in his hand.
“It’s either laugh or cry at this point, B, and I’m sick of crying.” She walked over to the rocking chair he’d abandoned and sat down. Without any hesitation, despite the presence of Jacque and Sally, she pulled out her left breast and pressed the girl’s face to her nipple. The effect was not immediate. Thia groped blindly, fussing when she couldn’t get the nourishment she needed. In an attempt to get the girl to latch, Jen began performing the techniques she’d read about in her breastfeeding books.
Decebel’s jaw clenched as he watched his mate cry silent tears as Thia latched, released, bit, suckled, wailed, and re-latched. Thia eventually calmed slightly, so she must have been getting something, but it was causing Jen considerable pain. Decebel could feel his mate’s discomfort through their bond.
Jacque walked over to him and placed a hand on his arm. He didn’t jerk his arm away, but he shifted so she wasn’t touching him. He knew it was a completely innocent touch, and one he wouldn’t normally shy away from, but his wolf was agitated. It only wanted the feel of his mate’s skin on his own.
