Crush laughed, pressing their foreheads together. “Never change, sweetheart. You’re the best.”
“So are you,” Killian said as a chorus of howling started up around them, to welcome their new pups into the world. “I think our life is amazing.”
EPILOGUE
“Three, two, one, PLANT!”Killian yelled, waving a bright red flag with a rabbit on it.
On either side of him, three children scrambled in the dirt: the first one poked fingers into the soil, the second one dropped seeds into the holes, and the third patted the soil back into place.
When they had planted seeds all the way to the end of the row, Killian blew his spelled whistle—a quiet one that wouldn’t hurt sensitive rabbit ears. “Time’s up! All of you did great. Now, move away from the rows and let Naddie water them.”
Eleven-year-old Naddie, as the oldest child, sometimes sat out of the competitions since she would give any side an advantage. Sometimes Killian and Crush designed special handicaps for her so she could join in without feeling left out.
“Now, carrots don’t usually grow this quickly, but these are special seeds from Uncle Uriel,” Killian said. “Don’t expect our other carrots to just pop out of the ground.”
Seconds later, the seeds began to sprout down the rows. Feathery leaves popped out, followed by bright orange carrots in the ground.
“Carrots!” seven-year-old Hope squealed.
“I want to eat the leaves,” her twin Nathan said.
“Save some for us,” ten-year-old Emily said—the eldest of Crush and Killian’s first litter.
“Ew, who likes the leaves?” Eleanor said with a grimace. She was the second born, after Emily.
“The orange part is the best,” Scott agreed. He was the third born in their litter, but sometimes acted as though he were the youngest child.
“You’re all wrong,” Phil said. He was the fourth child in that litter, and he ran away from the newly grown carrots. “The most delicious thing in the garden is Papa’s dill!”
As they watched, he dove into the bed of feathery dill, rolling around madly in their leaves.
Crush laughed as he joined them. He ruffled the children’s hair and hugged them, before wrapping Killian in a huge hug. “How’s my bunny rabbit? I see you had some carrots planted.”
He rubbed Killian’s stomach knowingly.
“Busted,” Killian murmured. “I was just entertaining them!”
Crush smirked. “Here, carrots for everyone except Phil,” Crush said, plucking a handful of carrots and handing them out—leaves to the ones who loved leaves, roots to the ones who loved roots. Then he sat down and pulled Killian onto his lap, cuddling Killian as though Killian were his favorite stuffed toy. He pulleda juicy carrot from the ground, wiped it off really well, and fed it to Killian tip first.
Killian coughed. “Really?”
“You’re the one growing carrots, not me,” Crush said innocently.
Killian took the carrot and bit viciously into it, only for Crush to grin.
“Ahh, my fierce bunny,” Crush murmured, snuggling him again. “To think I once thought you wouldn’t want me.”
“Of course I want you! You’re my big, strong hero.” Killian shivered when his alpha traced the bonding scar on his neck. There were matching ones on Crush’s wrists; sometimes, Crush asked Killian to bite him again so he could feel the markings as they healed. “Father of my children. Love of my life. Fisherman of my foot when I lose it in my mouth.”
“Ew,” some of the kids said.
“I do love looking for things you lose,” Crush purred in his ear. “Takes a few deep dives sometimes.”
Killian elbowed him. “Later,” he hissed. “I’ll need you to help me find something.”
Crush grinned. “All night, if I have to.”
“And now it’s time to make dinner!” Killian said loudly. “Chop chop! Back into the house! Brush off your feet before you go in! Last one in gets to wash the dishes tonight!”
