His Rejected Mateless Luna

Successful doctor

Terra

5 years later

“Landon, stop pestering your brother and come help set the table,” I called over my shoulder, struggling to drain a massive pot of pasta one-handed while also mixing up the sauce. The rich aroma of tomatoes and herbs filled our cozy kitchen.

“But Levi took my toy!” my youngest son protested.

“Did not!” came the immediate denial from his brother.

I shot them a sharp look as Landon tried wrestling the action figure away from Levi’s grip. Luke sat nearby pretending to read a book while obviously watching the tussle gleefully. Ah, triplet dynamics. Never a dull moment.

“Boys, enough,” I said firmly. “Levi, let him have it back. Landon, come help me. Now, please.”

Grumbling, they did as told. Crisis averted, for the moment anyway. I hid a smile as Landon carefully arranged the forks and napkins around our small table. My rambunctious wolf cubs could be a chaotic handful, but their playful antics filled our home with joy.

At the sound of the front door opening, three sets of amber eyes lit up in unison.

“Uncle Collin’s here!” they shouted, tumbling over each other to greet him first. Collins laughed as he was suddenly swarmed by eager boys hugging his legs.

“Hey guys! Wow, you’ve all gotten so big!” He swung a grinning Landon up onto his shoulders. The twins jumped up and down jealously until he tucked them under each arm.

“And how’s my favorite doctor doing this fine evening?” Collins asked, leaning in to give me a quick one-armed hug while balancing three squirmy boys.

“Much better now that you’re here to wrangle these rascals while I finish dinner.”

He grinned. “Happy to help. I brought dessert, by the way.”

“You’re the best.” I quickly sliced the chocolate cake he offered and put it in the fridge for after dinner.

Soon we were all sitting down to steaming bowls of pasta and fresh garlic bread. Between mouthfuls, the boys excitedly told Collins about their week – Luke learning a new skateboard trick, Levi scoring the winning goal at his soccer game, Landon losing another tooth.

I sat back happily, enjoying seeing my sons interact with the man who had become part of our little family. After Nathan’s devastating rejection, I never imagined I could feel whole again. But somehow, over years of shared hardship and joy while raising my boys, my friendship with Collins had grown into something deeper, warmer. An unspoken understanding bound us together.

…

After dinner, I ushered the rowdy triplets off to get ready for bed while Collins washed up. Story time was always my favorite part of the day. The boys would snuggle under the covers, eyes bright with eagerness as I brought tales of daring heroes and fantastical worlds to life. Their vivid imaginations and capacity for wonder reawakened my own.

Tonight I chose a story about a wolf pack with supernatural powers who protected their forest home from those who wished to destroy it. The boys listened, enraptured, until their eyelids finally drooped shut and dreams whisked them away. I tucked the quilts snugly around their sleeping forms and crept quietly out of their bedroom.

Collins was waiting on the couch with two steaming mugs of peppermint tea. I sank down beside him with a grateful sigh, leaning my head on his shoulder. His solid warmth against me was comforting.

“Those three have infinite energy,” Collins remarked with a chuckle. “I don’t know how you keep up with them.”

I laughed softly. “Coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.”

We sipped our tea in cozy silence. I would never grow tired of these peaceful evenings together, watching the dancing flames in the fireplace, the boys sound asleep down the hall. The life we had built, though imperfect, overflowed with love.

As a single mom juggling medical school and three infants, my dreams of becoming a doctor often felt impossibly out of reach. But Collins never let me give up. He tutored me through brutal all-nighters when the boys were finally asleep, quizzed me mercilessly until I knew course material backwards and forwards. And five years later, here I was – Dr. Terra, resident pediatrician at Willow Creek General Hospital.

My unique background gave me a natural rapport with young patients, putting them instantly at ease. Kids seemed to sense the supernatural wolf side I kept carefully hidden. I was in high demand, requested by families throughout the region. Between my work and Collins’s family practice, our little clinic thrived.

And strangely, certain paranormal cases also found their way to me. Just last week, an anxious werewolf father brought in his sickly pup, trusting I would keep their secret. It seemed my reputation for discretion was spreading.

“So, Hale and I grabbed lunch today,” Collins said, interrupting my thoughts. “He mentioned a couple more wolf packs in the area have asked about you.”This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

I nodded, unsurprised. Hale was a born werewolf who helped connect me with discreet suppliers for the special care and medications my fast-growing boys needed. He became our insider to the local supernatural community.

Collins studied me with concern. “Are you comfortable taking on more…unique clientele? I know you have enough on your plate.”

“I’m fine, really. Happy to help fellow wolves any way I can. Especially kids.” I thought of my own challenging early years when access to doctors who understood my needs was impossible. The isolation had been crushing. I was determined to provide better support for the next generation.

Collins smiled warmly. “You really are amazing, you know that? Those kids are blessed to have you.”

I squeezed his hand, touched by his faith in me. Together we had overcome so much. And the future, which once seemed impossibly bleak and lonely, now stretched out bright with promise.

Tomorrow I would figure out my next steps. But here, in this moment, I could feel hope flickering again inside me. No matter how hard things got, I wasn’t truly alone anymore. I had a precious piece of Nathan safely around me. And for now, that was enough to keep me going.

Somehow, everything would work out. It had to.