Chapter 267: The Birthday Breakfast

Vivian’s POV

The moment I pushed open our bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway, I froze in absolute surprise. The entire hallway exploded with color bright, chaotic, and completely overwhelmed by an avalanche of beautifully wrapped gifts.

Boxes of all shapes and sizes were stacked with almost comical precision, as if the hallway itself had been magically transformed into a mountain of celebration. My eyes widened in disbelief when I realized the chaos did not stop there, either. Presents lined the steps of the stairs too, one after another, some teetering precariously near the edge like they might tumble down at any second.

And then I finally reached the living room.

My jaw dropped all the way to the floor.

"I do not even know this many people," I muttered with a breathless laugh, genuine excitement bubbling up right alongside pure amusement. This was completely ridiculous... and kind of wonderful. Hands down, this was already shaping up to be the best birthday of my life.

It was not what I had asked for, either far from it. I had specifically begged Zahliver not to throw some over-the-top, awkwardly dramatic party for me. You know the kind I mean: the lights dim, everyone staring and singing loudly at you while you stand there like a deer caught in headlights, forced to awkwardly smile in front of a cake. Formal balls? I could handle those easily. Pack meetings? Sure, no problem. Even a big formal reunion? Fine. But birthdays featuring full-on public serenading? Nope. Not my thing at all.

To my total surprise, Zahliver had not argued with me about it. Honestly, I think he secretly preferred something low-key too. After all, this was our very first birthday together as a bonded couple. I just wanted him. Us.

Still, judging by this massive warzone of wrapping paper and bows filling the house, his definition of low-key seriously needed some major reevaluation.

I wandered slowly toward the kitchen, assuming I would find everyone huddled tightly around the counters chatting away, but when I stepped inside, I quickly realized there was no physical way all those voices could possibly fit in here. The room was empty. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Of course. The dining room.

Unused on most normal days, the long mahogany dining table was now completely filled with delicious food, loud laughter, and people. My people. My pack. My heart swelled instantly with a deep sense of belonging.

Hannah saw me first. Of course she did. She let out a sharp, cheerful whistle that made everyone at the table turn around in unison.

"Oh no," I muttered under my breath as instant warmth climbed hot up my cheeks.

"Wow, nice look," she said with a smirk that felt a whole lot more appreciative than teasing.

"You look lovely today, Luna," someone else added kindly from across the room.

"Vivian..." That voice came softly from the corner. Joshula.

"Killer heels, girl!"

"So pretty!"

The sweet wave of compliments washed right over me, making my face flame even hotter, but it also tugged a huge, genuine smile straight to my lips. I honestly could not help it.

"Pass me that bagel right now," Johnson muttered hungrily, eyeing a pastry like a predator stalking its prey. Mila looked entirely unimpressed, arched a single dark brow, but slid the plate his way anyway.

Then came Hannah again, grinning wickedly as she pointed her breakfast fork straight at me. "Damn, girl! Someone please remind me why I am not tapping that?"

Mark, sitting right beside her, gave an exaggerated, playful eye roll. "Maybe because you are literally carrying my child?"

She looked down thoughtfully at her round belly, then back up at him with mock surprise. "Right, right. That tiny little detail."

I shook my head, laughing quietly to myself. This group was pure chaos but it was the exact kind of chaos that finally felt like home.

And then I saw him.

Zahliver.

He was already sitting there, watching me intently.

Sometimes, he did not even need to speak out loud to say something important. That specific, burning look in his eyes said it all: I see you. You are mine. And you are breathtaking.

My knees felt a little weak as I finally moved toward the empty seat waiting just for me. Of course it was placed right beside him, and naturally, he sat comfortably at the head of the long table like the true king he was.

My breakfast plate was already neatly filled. Pancakes were sliced and stacked just the way I liked them, fresh fruit was arranged in a neat little mountain on the side, and crispy bacon waited beside warm bread. I did not even have to ask for a thing he had prepared it all just for me.

I poured myself a tall glass of cold orange juice and turned to him with a small, thankful smile.

"Thank you," I murmured softly.

He reached out slowly for my hand, brought my knuckles up to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss against my skin. Slowly. Deliberately. His piercing eyes stayed locked directly with mine the entire time. That simple, quiet gesture felt somehow much more intimate and more precious than any grand, flowery compliment ever could.

I had just picked up my fork when his deep voice suddenly slipped quietly through our mental link.

Are you actually wearing shorts under that lavender dress? His tone was low. Possessive. Darkly teasing.

I did not answer him out loud. I just turned my head toward him and gave a quick, sassy wink.

His expression instantly shifted from smug confidence to utter surprise, and I barely managed to smother the bright giggle bubbling up in my throat.

Breakfast rolled on smoothly. Happy laughter filled the air, plates were steadily emptied, and lively conversations crisscrossed the table like rivers meeting right in the middle. About halfway through the meal, the twin guards, Drake and Blake, suddenly launched into one of their ridiculous childhood birthday stories. Typical.

They sat side by side near the middle, almost identical with their soft brown hair and matching brown eyes. The only real physical differences between them were subtle: Drake had slightly higher cheekbones, while Blake sported a slightly more angular jawline. Thankfully, one of them was wearing a blue sweater and the other a green shirt otherwise, good luck to anyone trying to tell them apart.

"But our mom really wanted us to share just one birthday cake," Blake said with a loud laugh, shaking his head at the memory. "And since we had already secretly eaten half of the second cake earlier, we just gave in and agreed."

"Wait a second," Amber cut in, her brow furrowed in confusion, "which birthday was that even?"

I leaned in closer toward the center of the table, fully wrapped up in the warm, cozy comfort of the moment. This this wonderful chaos, this shared laughter, this deep love was everything I had never even known I needed in my life.

And it was still only just beginning.

"No way, you were always the mischievous prankster of the two. I was usually just the unfortunate one who got hurt," Blake said, shooting a playful look across the table at his twin brother. Drake just waved a hand dismissively like it was no big deal at all.

"And then when it finally came time to sing happy birthday you all know that classic moment when the whole room starts chanting, Bite the cake! Bite it! right?" Drake said with a bright, mischievous glint in his eye. I nodded knowingly. Everyone at the table knew that universal birthday tradition.

"Well, our stubborn mom insisted that both of us had to do it together. So they had Blake and me standing side by side, arms wrapped around each other awkwardly, trying to lean in at the exact same time for the big bite," he paused for dramatic effect, already grinning widely. "Naturally, the second we leaned forward, I shoved my brother’s face straight into the frosting."

Blake smirked into his cup. "And for once in my life, I really wanted payback for all the times he pulled stuff like that. Except..."

Drake rolled his eyes playfully. "Go ahead, little brother. Tell them what happened next."