Chapter 11 · Three Years Later

The twins turned three on a Tuesday.

Zaia woke to Leo pounding on her bedroom door and Milo shrieking with delight in the hallway.

"Mama! Mama! Birthday!"

She smiled despite the exhaustion that never quite left her—three years of single motherhood, of building Z Design from a studio apartment to a twelve-person agency with clients on three continents, of learning to be both mother and CEO and wolf without a pack to hold her.

The apartment was bigger now—a three-bedroom in Millbrook with a home office and a playroom that smelled like crayons and the boys' shared scent, cedar and honey, nothing like their father.

Zaia had made sure of that.

She carried Leo to the kitchen—he'd climbed onto her back, giggling—and found Milo already at the table, attempting to open a box of cereal with his teeth.

"No teeth on boxes," she said, taking it gently. "Use your words."

"I want cereal!" Milo announced. "And pancakes! And cake for breakfast!"

"Cake for breakfast is a birthday rule," Zaia agreed. "Pancakes first."

She moved through the morning routine with practiced efficiency. Breakfast. Cartoons. Matching superhero shirts for the boys—they'd chosen Spider-Man and Batman, and Zaia had learned not to argue.