To Be More (Slate/Gray Book #2)

This Christmas has been one of Gray’s most magical Christmases in her lifetime for many reasons. One of which being the joy of it being the first in three years that she’s spent with her siblings. Another is the relief and joy of Slate being home that still hasn’t worn off all the way. Another being the Atwood family opening their home to them, being able to spend Christmas with a big family, another experience Gray had never had before. The chaos of Christmas morning with eleven people was overwhelming and beautiful in the best ways. Lastly, spending Christmas with a six-year-old brought a special magic that only young children can bring.

Gray hadn’t known exactly what to expect as far as her personal haul of gifts, but her expectations were exceeded. Among her gifts were a painting from Raven of an auburn wolf on a bed of varying shades of green grass, a coupon for Asher to make her her favorite dessert on command three different occasions, a very generous offering by the Kelleys to pay for her textbooks for her first semester of college–starting in just a few weeks–and a free photography session from the alpha, who had dabbled a bit in the arts in college. She doesn’t have any pictures of her family, so she’s actually quite excited for that one.

From Slate, she’d gotten a gift card to a local nail salon for her to finally take Erin Baker on their long ago planned date to get their nails done together. Gray has found herself surprised to be excited for that, too. She had taken a break from therapy while Slate was gone, but has had two sessions since he’d been back and one of the things they’d talked about was building a wider net of support and friendships. Just a few months ago, she’d been terrified to be seen, and now she’s excited to go out one-on-one with a new friend.

Gray thinks she can now confidently say that…she loves life. She loves her life.

Especially the people in it.

Later in the afternoon, Slate had pulled her aside to go on a walk. She’d almost refused because of how tired he looked, but she sensed that wouldn’t go over well, so she let it go.

“So,” Gray says to him now as they walk hand in hand through the rows and rows of apple trees. “What did you want to tell me?”

He looks at her from the corner of his eye. “How did you know I wanted to tell you something? Maybe I just wanted to spend time with you.”

Gray rolls her eyes fondly. “I know you want to spend time with me, but I know you better than that. Fess up.”

He grins with one side of his mouth. “You do know me.” The words send a little thrill down Gray’s body even though she’d been the one to say it first. The fact that he repeated it shows its importance to him. “I have another gift for you,” he finally reveals.

“Slate,” she chides, “you’ve already given me a perfect gift. I don’t need anything else.”

“I know. But this one is partly selfish too.”

Interest piqued, Gray cocks her head. “Okay, you have my attention.”

“The first gift I gave you was a date for you and Erin. The second one is a date for us. Just me and you, together.”

Gray is both surprised by and can’t help the slightly-too-high-pitched happy noise that comes out. “Really? A date? Where? When? How? What should I wear?”

Gray’s fervor only grows when he throws his head back and laughs a real, true, unabashed laugh. “You sound like your sister,” he smiles.

“And? Aren’t you going to answer my questions?”

He pulls her to a stop and his smile goes soft and his eyes sparkle, just for her. “You are so beautiful when you smile. Have I ever told you that?”

Gray feels cheeks redden and she has to turn her shy smile to the ground. “I don’t think so.”

“Well that’s a crime,” he says, tilting her head back up. “Because you are. You’re always beautiful, but you shine when you smile.”

Gray isn’t sure who leans in first, but before she knows it, their lips are touching in a burst of warmth and it feels like firecrackers lace the blood under her skin. He puts his hand on her lower back and pulls her flush with his own body, causing her veins to light up from within. At this moment, she can’t believe she’d ever thought of him as cool or cold, because he is all warmth and slow, exquisite burning.

Gray lifts on her tiptoes to adjust the angle and wraps her arms around his shoulders, unable to stop herself, for once completely uninhibited. He has this way of getting past all of her defenses and stripping her down to her essentials, almost the way being a wolf does. He entices the woman and the animal in her, something no one and nothing has been able to do ever.

Eventually they have to break apart, and when they do, both of them are gasping for breath.

“I love you.”

It takes a minute for Gray to realize he’d said it too, that they’d both said it at the same time. Gray has to stop and stare when she sees that he looks surprised. Not at her, but at himself. Gray had managed to draw words out of him without his permission and it makes her feel like the most powerful person in the world. Alexander was worried Slate would try to use his immense influence to control them, when in this moment, it’s Gray who had broken past all of his defenses until he had nothing left but the unbridled truth. Like the words were so strong they couldn’t be held back.

Completely unable to help himself, he whispers, “I’m so in love with you, Grace Holt.” It’s fervent, prayer-like, sacred, and completely purposeful this time.

“I’m in love with you too,” Gray is quick to say back.

Finally, he recovers, a real, true, smile grows on his face until his teeth are showing. “I think this is my favorite Christmas yet.”

Gray throws her head back and laughs, a bright, happy, delighted sound, the joy pouring out of her. “I think you are my favorite Christmas yet,” she says through a wide smile.

“I think you are my favorite,” he says, effectively winning the battle both with his words and the undeniably contagious smile on his face.

Then, she thinks of something even better. “I think I want to kiss you again,” she breathes.

When she leans up and tangles her fingers in his hair, he meets her halfway and that firecracker sensation is back stronger than ever. In the midst of their passion, he walks her backward until she’s trapped between him and a tree, and while this is a bit more public than she’d usually prefer, she doesn’t even care. There’s nowhere else she’d rather be than right here, with him, in this moment, forever.

“I love you forever.”

:::::

In the following weeks, there’s more kissing, more friend-dates, more Slate-dates, more walks, more meals shared, more time spent, more Them. She loves every minute of it.

She thought she’d loved life before, and maybe she did, but that capacity has grown ten fold. She feels like she has more love to give to her siblings, more for Sara and Jason, more for the other Atwoods, and always, always for Slate.

She started college classes last week–all online, for now–and was reminded almost immediately how much she loves learning. Educational institutions might be flawed in their individual ways, but Gray will always take advantage of an opportunity to learn. She’d completed about two years of school at the University of British Columbia, so a lot of what she’s learning now is more a refresher than anything else, but that only makes the transition less intimidating. Gray is so grateful to be here, she can’t be anything less than thrilled.

She is strong, she is powerful, she is happy, she is loved, she is healthy, and that’s a lot more than she thought she’d have.

Slate, for his part, is doing better as well. He’s moving easier; sleeping ever so slightly better, but it’s still progress; introducing more variety to his diet, though sugar and greasy foods still don’t jive with him most of the time. He still looks tired most of the time and can be found spacing out with a haunted look in his eyes all too often, but that might be more an evidence of him letting his guard down more around Gray than he has been. It hurts to think of how badly he’d been hurting without anyone knowing, but it’s so gratifying to see him slowly getting back to who he was–an even better version, even. Gray is lobbying for him to try therapy, but it’s a hard sell.

And she loves him. Always, she loves him. And always, he loves her. It’s a new fact of life: Slate Atwood and Grace Holt love each other to their cores.

Currently, she’s walking with Slate to the Kelley household, hand in hand as they can usually be found these days. “Heard any new gossip from Erin?” Slate rumbles next to her.

Gray grins. “What, about Asher? My lips are sealed. It’s the girl code.”

“Even from your True Mate?”

Gray grins. That’s a new thing he does–he doesn’t shy away from the title, even wears it proudly. He’s not a whit hesitant to claim her as such in front of other members of the pack either. It’s common knowledge now that Slate and Gray are together and people generally seem happy for them, if a bit baffled.

“Even from a True Mate. There are some things that are just too sacred, and the bond between girl friends is one of those things.”

“One could argue that there’s nothing more sacred than a bond blessed by the moon.”

“One could also argue that True Mates are a myth.”

He side eyes her. “One could. But they’re not.”

She concedes, “They’re not.”

“Are you just trying to distract me from the fact that you and Erin Baker talk about Asher behind his back?”

Gray bumps his shoulder with hers and says slyly, “I would never. I know better. You’d catch me right away.”

“And yet you’re still not answering the question.”

“That,” she says as she knocks on Sara’s front door twice before stepping inside, “is because I was stalling.”

Slate laughs. That’s a thing he does now, too. Mostly only in front of her and his family, but he’s doing it more often than she’s ever known him to. He’d told her she shines when she smiles, but he’s like the stars twinkling celestially at night when he laughs. More subtle, but just as beautiful, holier.

“Hey lovebirds!” Sara calls out from the couch. “I have news!”

“You’re in labor,” Slate deadpans.

Sara pauses suspiciously. “Um, actually…well, yes. I didn’t think it would come out that soon.”

Gray’s eyes bug out. She’d literally thought Slate was joking. She swears he has a sixth sense when it comes to his siblings. Gray had been planning this with Sara and Jason and Paige, a pack member who happens to be an OB/GYN, for weeks and she hadn’t noticed anything.

Then again, she and Slate had been here for fifteen seconds before Slate realized exactly what was going on, so maybe she should cut herself some slack. Definitely a sixth sense.

Gray tries to shake off the shock and manages to ask, “Okay, um, how far apart are your contractions? Are they regular? How’s the pain?”

“I’ve been having them for a couple hours, but now they’re about four minutes apart. They’re…” Sara grimaces, “not quite excruciating, I think my body is healing the pain a bit, but possibly the most unsettling pain I’ve had in my whole life. My organs are literally squeezing themselves.”

Gray nods, organizing things in her mind. “Okay, have you called Paige?”

“Yup, she’s setting everything up at the big house.” Sara is remarkably calm for a woman in labor.

“Where’s Jason?” Slate makes himself known again.

“He’s almost home from the store picking up some last minute things for the baby.” She rolls her eyes. “We have more than enough of everything, but he’s paranoid.”

“He left you so close to active labor?” Slate just barely doesn’t demand.

“Calm down, Slater, everything is going to be okay. I can feel it.” She even has the audacity to smile.

When Gray turns to Slate, he does look…pale. And blank. Gray has come to learn that the absence of emotion on Slate can tell a story as much as visible emotion. Not as detailed, but it at the minimum lets Gray know something is up. “You okay?” she asks him quietly.

“Fine,” he says shortly, eyes fixed on Sara.

All at once, Gray feels like an idiot for only just remembering how he lost his mom. Especially the fact that his mother had been telling him everything was going to be okay right up until the end. Gray wants to say something to make it better, but there’s probably nothing that would really assuage any fears.

She settles for squeezing his hand and turning back to Sara. “Alright, let’s do this.”

:::::

Once Slate and Gray get Sara to the Atwood house, Jason, who Slate is still a little miffed at, is already there and looking nervous but excited. Excited. Slate can barely stand to look at him at this point. He’d feel the same about Sara if he wasn’t terrified to let her out of his sight at all.

Excited. How could they be excited at a time like this?

Well, if Slate was using his rational brain, he would completely understand. They are about to grow their family by a third, a desire they’ve had for years that has until recently been fruitless. But then, if his rational brain was in charge, he would be excited too. He’s about to meet his new niece, after all. For once, the world is moving in fast forward and Slate is stuck in reverse.

Before he knows it, their father, Asher, and Forrest have arrived–the younger two siblings being in school. At this point, all the men can do is…wait. Slate is good at waiting, a master, and he usually doesn’t even mind too much, but this is torturous.

Just before they whisk Sara back to the room she’s about to give birth in, Slate darts into her path at the last second, making her jump. “Woah, Slate. I would say don’t scare me into an early labor, but it’s a bit too late for that,” Sara grins infuriatingly.

Slate purses his lips at her nonchalance for all of three seconds until she doubles over with a contraction, groaning in pain. When he instinctively lifts her shaking frame into his arms, she digs her fingers into his shoulders. “Slate,” she grits as he carries her to the back room, “I love you,” she pants, “to the end of the Earth, but this is something you don’t need to see.”

He finally sets her down on the bed and very reluctantly lets go. He nods firmly for both of them. “You’re going to be okay,” he declares with bravado he normally doesn’t project. Because it’s normally not bravado, it’s educated confidence. He is anything but confident right now.

Sara softens as the pain ebbs away, catching Slate’s wrist before he lets go all the way. “Slate, I am going to be okay.” Then she smiles that near intolerable smile, putting a hand on her swollen belly. “We both are. She can’t wait to meet you.”

Slate swallows, but has no words to offer, simultaneously desperate to escape and battling a base need to stay and make sure his sister is safe. Instead he offers another nod and squeezes her hand before leaving.

Gray catches him in the doorway, surprising him with a kiss that makes him breathe out some of his angst and relax his shoulders a fraction. He’s not calm, but better. She centers him that way.

“I love you,” she whispers. She doesn’t tell him it will be okay, probably knows those words will sound hollow whether she means them or not. She just tells him she loves him.

So he just tells her back, “I love you.”

Then they part ways. Gray, to watch over and assist, and Slate, to pace and wait.

:::::

All told, the labor lasts another six hours. Both Gray and Slate don’t do much besides offer moral support. In reality, there isn’t a ton Gray could have done for Sara considering the nature of what her injuries might have been. Gray can’t heal anything to do with the placenta or the baby or anything unique to pregnancy. She’d been able to heal some nausea from Sara that allowed her to rest more easily in between contractions, but otherwise everything went smoothly.

She’d tried to placate Slate as much as she could through the bond, but she also knew that being in constant contact with a mental live feed through the whole process would have been hell on his nerves. He needed to focus on something other than the labor and how things might or might not be going. Asher had helped with that, as did Raven and his endearing and at times irritatingly endless need for Slate’s attention once he got home from school.

When the baby finally arrives with lungs clear and voice loud, Gray can hear cheering from deeper into the house, feeling tears of joy and relief prick her own eyes. This child, this baby, this human life is the culmination of a lot of pain and suffering by a lot of people. But also a culmination of a lot of love from many incredible people. This baby feels a little bit like hers, in a way. Not like her own child, but like…someone that belongs to her. Like family.

“Gray,” Sara cries, holding the baby to her bare chest, joyous and overwhelmed tears streaming down her face. “Look. She’s here.”

Gray leans down next to Sara to peer into the baby’s purplish, squalling face. She looks a bit like a monkey, but all babies look a bit like monkeys to Gray. Still, something about her is just…beautiful. She has her mother’s cupid bow lips and if Gray’s estimations are accurate, she’s long and thin like her father.

“She’s beautiful,” Gray whispers through her own tears. Her heart is overflowing with joy for her friend, her sister. Sara has dreamed of being a mother for her whole life and finally, she is. This beautiful child has made it so.

“She is. More than I’d ever dreamed.” She looks up at Jason with affection and love shining in her eyes, a beatific smile splitting her face. “I’m so in love already.”

Wanting to give the couple a moment of privacy, she straightens and says, wiping her eyes of happy tears, “I’ll deliver the good news.”

“Bring Slate in first,” Sara tells her unexpectedly.

Gray cocks her head for a moment, but nods and goes on her way. Once she rounds this corner into the sizable living room where everyone has been waiting, Gray is surprised to see her siblings amid the throng. She raises her brows at them. Alexander shrugs, looking remarkably relaxed on the couch next to Slate while Aria, sitting on the floor by Sage, points at that very man and bond communicates, Slate called us. Said it was a family gathering and we should be here.

Gray laughs and shakes her head in awe. I love you Slate Atwood, she whispers into his mind. You’re too good to me.

He turns his head to see her in the doorway, gives her a small, beautiful smile. Never.

Gray shakes her head again, still smiling and claps her hands to get the attention of the room, though most of them were awaiting her announcement already anyway. “The baby’s here safe and sound.”

Cheers erupt and hugs are exchanged by everybody. Slate pats Alexander’s back as he passes by but otherwise clears a path straight to Gray. She meets him in the middle in a giant bear hug, both of them burying their faces in the other’s hair or neck.

I love you forever, he tells her, body finally releasing the tension that had lived just under the surface for hours.

I love you forever, she tells him back, running fingers through the short hairs at his neck.

When she remembers Sara’s request, she reluctantly pulls away from his warmth. “Sara wants to see you.” When Slate frowns, Gray shakes her head. “Nothing bad, I promise. She and the baby are both perfectly healthy and healing already.”

He searches her face for another long moment before taking her face in his gentle hands and pressing a kiss to her hairline. “Thank you.”

Slate disappears around the corner and Gray is left to celebrate with her family.

:::::

Slate makes himself walk at a regular pace down the hall into the guest room where Sara has given birth and where she and Jason–and the baby–will be staying for a week. He feels…jittery. He wants to run, wants to release all these pent up emotions and feelings until his body finally gets the memo that it can calm down. Hypervigilance is no stranger at any time of day, but as Sara has gotten closer to her due date, his paranoia about her and the baby has only gotten stronger.

He knocks on the door twice before entering tentatively, poking his head through first. “Slate?” Sara asks when she sees the door open.

“Bear?” Slate asks back, stepping in the room fully and closing the door behind him.

Slate’s eyes zero in on his sister first. She looks sweaty and red faced and tired but glowing with happiness. Her eyes are bright with unshed tears, but her smile is radiant. She’s beautiful.

“Get over here, Uncle. Come meet your niece, she’s going to be your new favorite thing ever.” She gestures to Jason, who Slate now sees is holding the baby, to hand her over to Slate.

Slate laughs at his sister, though it’s slightly strangled with relief. “She already is,” he tells his sister, coming closer to receive the baby.

She’s a light weight in Slate’s arms; it gives him flashbacks to Raven’s early days. Instinctually he starts swaying back and forth, humming a nursery rhyme under his breath. He swears to this tiny child, not even an hour old, that she will always have his love and protection until his very dying breath.

“Don’t you want to know her name?” Sara asks.

Slate doesn’t take his eyes off the baby or slow his swaying, just hums an affirmative.

He hears Sara snicker lightly. “She’s already got you wrapped around her little finger, doesn’t she?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Slate tells the baby, then finally spares a brief look at Sara before looking back down. “What’s her name?”

“Delaney. Delaney Eleanor Kelley,” Sara says thickly, eyes shining again.

Slate rolls the name around his brain. Delaney Eleanor. “Sweet. Elegant. Perfect,” he says. “I love it.”

“Are you going to ask me why?” Sara cranes her neck around to try to catch Slate’s gaze.

Finally Slate manages to drag his eyes away from Delaney to properly give Sara his attention. He sits on the bed by her hip and acquiesces, “How did you choose Delaney? Eleanor is Jason’s mom, right?” He spares a look for Jason, who nods.

Sara nods as well. “We were going to name her something for Mom, until you got taken.” There’s a crease between Sara’s brows now, as if a remaining echo of the worry and anxiety of that time.

“What changed?” Slate asks.

Sara and Jason exchange a look. “Our priorities,” Jason says. “We realized more than ever that family is what’s most important to us. We need to remember the ones who aren’t with us anymore, but it’s especially important to hold close the ones we still have to hold.”

Sara nods. “And then you came home.” Sara pauses briefly. “Delaney is for you. She’s named for you, Slate.”

Slate frowns, caressing a forefinger across Delaney’s silk-soft cheek. “How?”

“When you were with the Dreidens,” Sara starts, and Slate forces himself just to stay still for a moment and brace through all the emotions that come with that name, “you didn’t suffer all that pain for yourself. I know you, Slate, and if you didn’t have anyone to come home to, you might not have come out of there. You did what you did for us. For me, for the kids, for Dad, for the Holts–for the baby. For Delaney.”

Sara chokes up, reaches out to grip Slate’s forearm, currently cradling her daughter. “You went through hell for her. So that she could be safe and you could be her uncle and teach her strength and loyalty and independence.” Tears start leaking out, and falling down her cheeks. “So that…that letter on your side, that’s not for the men who put it there. It’s not some memento of suffering or-or a brand that claims you as theirs. That’s for Delaney. It’s a memento of your devotion to your family. A brand that you can show to her when she’s old enough, something to show her in the most visceral way that you love her with everything you have.

“Slate…what you went through is unfathomable to me. Something I will never be able to understand, no matter how desperately I want to. But when I see that scar on your side, I don’t see needless suffering, because you made it mean something. Let it mean her, Slate. Let it be for Delaney.”

Slate closes his eyes and just breathes. Breathes in this moment, memorizes it, takes in all the emotions and feelings that it has evoked, and lets it out. He opens his eyes again and looks at Jason and then Sara. “Okay,” he nods. “Okay.”

They both smile, Sara through tears and Jason with glistening eyes but dry cheeks. “Alright, now give me back my baby and bring the rest of the goon squad in here to say hello.”

Slate rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh at his sister, reluctantly handing Delaney back to her mother after a last pet of her soft, mostly bald head. “Love you,” he says to all three of the Kelleys as he leaves the room.

When he walks out into the living room, all he has to do is beckon with one hand and the menagerie comes running. When he warns them of hell to pay if anyone wakes a sleeping baby, they slow down amusingly quickly.

There, gathered in the room where his niece was born with all of his favorite people gathered in one room, Slate’s mind is pulled back to that day, the day he left the Dreidens. He remembers the distinct feeling of being home when his father and brother took him in their arms. He remembers feeling like he would be able to die happy if he never lived another moment after that. He was ready for the end, if it was his time.

Gray comes up next to him and takes his hand, squeezes it. He grins lazily down at her. Hey, love.

Hey, you, she says with an answering smile.

Now, here, in this room with all these people and all this love, he thinks it would have been a travesty for him to have missed this. Sara was right when she’d said he’d fought for this. He'd earned this. He deserves this.

Alpha Jackson, Silas Weaver, the Dreidens–that’s the past.

He peeks over his brother’s head to see Delaney being passed around, he squeezes Gray’s hand once more–this is the future.

This is home.

I love you forever.

I love you forever.

THE END