Page 103 of The Pregnant Wolf Omega Next Door

Emre raised his eyebrows. “An erupting volcano?”

“Yes!” Huxton puffed out his chest like a proud bird. Zenith stood up to chase the butler away, except he couldn’t send Huxton out of earshot; Emre’s hearing was too sharp for that.

“One of Scribbly Master’s brothers had told him about volcanoes and science fair projects,” Huxton continued. “But he didn’t have the materials to make one of those, so he improvised.”

“This sounds disastrous,” Emre said.

Zenith pressed his face into his hand and groaned.

In a stage whisper, Huxton said, “Guess what he used to make the volcano.”

Emre winced. “What?”

“His dads’ pillows!” At Emre’s shocked look, Huxton nodded. “Apparently he’d gotten it into his head that you could pile things really high if you had enough pillows. Somehow, he acquired a metal pipe and stood it upright, surrounding it witha mountain of pillows. By the time he was done, the pillow-volcano was taller than him, with an L-shaped tube leading to the top of the volcano. Scribbly Master had it all set up in the front yard; he told the entire family to come watch.”

“That sounds exciting,” Emre said, bouncing a little.

“Exciting?” Zenith protested.

“Well, yeah! I’ve never made a huge pillow-volcano!”

“It’s a humiliating memory,” Zenith groaned.

“But you were so adorable,” Huxton crowed. “Scribbly Master didn’t even notice his parents’ horrified faces. It had rained the night before, you see, but the pillows were charmed to be waterproof. Anyway, Scribbly Master went to the other end of the iron pipe and breathed a huge plume of fire into it. His flames were so hot that they heated up the pipe, and the pillows caught fire.”

Emre gaped. “Weren’t they fireproof?”

Huxton grinned. “They were charmed with the wrong spell—waterproof instead of fireproof—and they were supposed to be sent back to the pillow maker in exchange for a new batch.”

Zenith spluttered. “You told me they were okay to use!”

Huxton shrugged. “They all caught fire and created such a light show.”

“You fucking—”

The butler snickered. “Scribbly Master was grounded for two weeks for ruining several perfectly good pillows.”

Zenith flipped him off. “I’m still not over that.”

“You’ll get over it.” Huxton flapped his hand dismissively. “You have pups. They’re going to destroy everything in this mansion.”

“They will not!” Emre squeaked, shooting a panicked look at Zenith.

Zenith hurriedly wrapped his arm around Emre’s shoulders, glowering at Huxton. “Fuck off, Hux. Don’t upset my omega.”

“It was just a warning,” Huxton said innocently, before wandering off.

Emre put his head in his hands and groaned. “He’s not wrong, though. I chewed up so many things in my parents’ home. It’s why they never bothered making the furniture pretty.”

“It’s okay,” Zenith said. “I don’t mind.”

Emre raised his head and stared at him doubtfully.

“I’m the one who scrolls through baby photos on Cartbook, remember? I know that children come with their challenges.”

“That’s because no one shares photos of their crying babies,” Emre muttered.

“Sweetheart, believe me. I don’t mind. I was there with you when they were both wailing.” Zenith cupped Emre’s face and made him look up.