Noro smoothed out the front of his shirt. “There appears to be a… queue outside.”
“What for?”
“For you. For your magic ability.” Colton tilted his head. “You know, to be turned into omegas.”
My eyes widened as reality dawned on me. “Oh, right. I forgot about that.”
It still felt like a dream that so many people from both shifter types--both wolves and gryphons--were literally lining up to be turned into omegas like I’d done to Bastian.
A rapt knock at the door made me sit up. The crowd parted to allow Peregrine inside. She smiled and dipped her head at me. “Hello, Matheson. May I come in?”
I nodded and she entered the room fully. She smiled at the baby and greeted my mates with a brief nod.
“I hope you don’t mind my intrusion,” she said. “I’d like to see this magic turning for myself.”
“Sure thing. Um. Let them in, I guess.”
“Hang on,” Ramsay interjected. “Before all that, don’t we have something important to talk about?”
“Oh, yeah,” Colton said mildly. “About how I was right and you were wrong, and now you don’t have a baby name anymore.”
“Shut up, Colt.”
I gasped, feeling shame wash over me. “Oh! His name!”
In the crazy days that followed his birth, I’d been too busy and out of it to think of a name for my own child. Laughter came from everyone in the room and I blushed.
“Stop laughing!”
“Sorry,” Eric murmured, his eyes glittering. “We all wanted to see how long it would take you to notice.”
“I had a bet of four days,” Noro said. “But it didn’t take quite that long.”
“Nope.” Colton smiled. “I said three days. I win another bet.”
I groaned. “Great. Now I haveanothermate to tease me, too.”
“So?” Ramsay said. “What’s it gonna be, Mathe? Have you thought about it?”
Eric handed me my son, who fussed slightly but didn’t cry. I inhaled his sweet smell.
“Honestly? With how crazy my life has been, I haven’t,” I admitted. “But to be fair, Ididthink I was gonna be pregnant for nine whole months like a normal person. But no, there had to be some magical pregnancy prophecy.”
“Sorry,” Noro said with a grin.
Ramsay piped up. “What about Ramsay Junior? We can call him RJ.”
“We are not calling him that,” Eric muttered.
“Eric Junior?”
“Shut up.”
“If we’re going by names, we can call him Cern,” Colton suggested. “For each letter of our names.”
“That’s not a name,” I objected in a grumble. “Besides, what about M for me?”
“Oh. You’re right.” He paused. “Cermn?” Another pause. “Mernc?”
