Page 46 of The Pregnant Wolf Omega Next Door

While he was busy with her, Emre slid the photos out of the envelope.

There weren’t many pictures, actually. They were all yellowed, a little faded. In the first picture, Zenith seemed to be a few months old, trying futilely to stuff a huge pumpkin toy into his mouth. In the next photo, he was maybe a year old, sitting in a half-full trash can with kitchen scraps on his head.

Emre couldn’t help it; he giggled.

Zenith looked over and groaned. “My brothers were around for that one. They were chasing each other through my parents’ place—you know, my centuries-old brothers?—and they knocked over the kitchen trash can. No one noticed when I crawled in; someone set it upright while I was in there and forgot about it. After a while, I stuck my head out. My dad caught me then, and he took a picture. Then he yelled at my brothers for putting me in the trash.”

Emre laughed and sighed. “Sounds like fun, having siblings.”

“Mine are great,” Zenith agreed. “They’re all living in or around Cartfalls, but I haven’t seen much of them lately because they’ve been pairing off and starting families. Hey, actually...” Zenith perked up. “Would you like to make some friends? I know my brothers’ omegas belong to a friend group; they won’t mind you joining in.”

Emre squirmed. “I’m kind of new to Cartfalls; your brothers are really old. Their mates must already be old friends with each other.”

“Naw. My brothers only began bonding over the last year or so. Their omegas were all single dads—not so single anymore. I’m sure they’d love to have you. Actually... Uriel is close with them. Maybe he can add you to their group chat or something? I’m notsure how that alpha is friends with literally everyone’s omegas, but then again, he has a baby. Maybe that’s why.”

The name rang a bell. Emre frowned. Then it hit him.

“Wait. That’s the guy you’re writing the book about.”

Zenith winced. “Definitelydon’t mention the book while he’s here.”

Emre bobbed his head. “Of course not.”

“Thanks.” Zenith leaned in, nuzzling Emre’s ear.

Emre nuzzled him back, and Zenith beamed. It was such a good look on him.

He flipped to the third photograph in the pile; Zenith was groaning even before Emre could make sense of the picture.

“Is this... a giant tomato?”

“Yes. That year, my brother Ace tried to grow a tomato plant. But he got tired of waiting for it to grow, so he found a mage to cast a spell on that plant. Well, the plant grew like a giant beanstalk, and every time a tomato fell off the vine, I swear the ground shook. That’s one of its tomatoes.”

The tomato was so huge, it was like a giant pumpkin. Toddler-Zenith was sitting comfortably in the hollowed-out tomato, like a frog in a pothole.

“That sounds like so much food,” Emre said enviously. “Did you manage to finish all the tomatoes?”

“Between us and the huge butler brother family, we did,” Zenith said dryly. “Everyone was making pasta sauce and sun-dried tomatoes for weeks.”

“I would love to have a giant tomato,” Emre sighed. “But my stomach isn’t big enough for it.”

They both looked down at his round belly.

“It’s almost the size of a giant tomato,” Zenith said with a quick grin. “But we won’t be eating you.”

Emre rolled his eyes.

“I’ll see if any of my friends are interested in sharing a giant tomato plant,” Zenith said. “Imagine vine-ripened tomatoes... but huge. We could make so much marinara sauce with it.”

“You’d need to cook that down for a long time, though. And you’d need so many pots.”

Zenith hummed. “Not if you have special cooking equipment for it.”

“You have special equipment?” Emre looked around the small kitchen, seeing nothing that could contain a giant tomato. Maybe if they carved it and cooked it one chunk at a time?

“Scribbly Master?” Huxton said suddenly, all humor gone from his voice.

Zenith’s attention snapped onto him. “What is it?”