Chapter 33

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Previously on Two new members in the FBI

Jackson's Pov

We sat there in the stillness of morning, the light streaming in through the windows, illuminating the new day. The fear and worry hadn't vanished, but they had dulled, leaving behind a cautious optimism. Boston was here, and he was safe—and for now, that was enough.

In the back of my mind, thoughts of the future still lingered. The supernatural question, the fact that I was a werewolf-Kanima hybrid and Stiles was wholly human—what that might mean for Boston down the line. But for now, I decided to let that go. We had time. Right now, we needed to focus on loving him, on helping him grow strong and healthy. We had each other, and we had a lifetime to figure out the rest.

And so, as I held Boston close, feeling his soft breathing, I allowed myself to truly believe in a future full of possibilities. Whatever happened, we would face it together. And that was the greatest comfort of all.

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Jackson's Pov

It had been four days since Boston came home, and in those four days, our lives had already shifted in ways I hadn't anticipated. The nights were long and unpredictable, the days filled with a delicate balance of joy and overwhelming responsibility. Every day felt like a mixture of exhaustion and wonder, and I wasn't sure how to put into words the overwhelming love I felt for this tiny human who had come into our lives, so fragile but so strong at the same time.

Boston was 14 days old now, and though he was still small, there was a sense of calm around him that helped me calm the frantic energy inside me. He was growing stronger every day, and I could see that in the way he would latch on when I fed him or the way he would stretch his tiny limbs. But still, there was the constant hum of worry at the back of my mind. Was he okay? Was he getting enough nourishment? Was he too warm or too cold? Every second I wasn't holding him felt like a moment where something could go wrong.

I shifted in the rocking chair in the corner of the room, staring at Boston's crib. It was right beside our bed—small, almost too small, but perfect for him. He was sleeping soundly in the dim light of the morning, wrapped in a soft blue blanket that Stiles had picked out for him weeks ago. He looked so peaceful in the crib, his little chest rising and falling with each breath. I still couldn't get over how much he'd changed in such a short time. Every day he looked a little bigger, a little stronger, and I could see the faintest hints of what he might become. The world was beginning to open up for him, even though the future was still so uncertain.

Stiles was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, his footsteps soft as he moved about. I listened to the sound of the water running and tried to focus on the soothing rhythm of Boston's breaths. The past few days had been a blur of feedings, diaper changes, naps, and endless worrying. But there were also moments that felt almost surreal. The first time I held him after bringing him home—his tiny form pressed against my chest, the scent of him so innocent and pure. The first time Stiles fed him with a bottle, his hands steady as he guided Boston's tiny lips to the nipple. There was a tenderness between us now, an unspoken understanding of just how much we were learning every single day.

"Hey," Stiles called softly as he entered the room, his voice low, probably to avoid waking Boston. "You good?"

I looked over at him, offering a small smile. Stiles had been my anchor in all of this, always knowing how to calm my racing thoughts, always steady, always there. "Yeah, just... thinking. Watching him sleep."

Stiles leaned against the doorframe, brushing a hand through his messy hair. "He's definitely a cutie when he's asleep, huh?" he said with a half-smile, his eyes soft as he watched Boston.

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