2032.

A person's seventh birthday can be a big deal. It's the earliest age for secondary-sex traits to manifest – the time when the mills of fate begin to grind slowly for a person. But for Florence Dahlia Dumont, it was, more than anything, a gathering to celebrate life with all her loved ones.

Flo has grown into a beautiful girl taking the best of both from her mother and father. Already she's grown strong and resolute but can be quiet and reticent at times. She has her Dad's soft way of laughing, but has her Papa Milou's often unpredictable mood swings.

Flo's eyes have the same light-brown hue as her mother's, which at times became a painful reminder for Saliou. The child's quick charm lights up those hazelnut eyes and if he looked long enough, he could see a vestige of Milou's soul in them.

Flo is a good-natured, if a little mysterious, young girl who candidly spreads the warmth of her love throughout her family and friends. Sometimes she can be an open book, other times she can be a complete enigma. But if one were to guess whether she's Alpha or Omega, well, it was too early to tell, even on her seventh birthday.

It was looking to be a memorable birthday celebration for everyone at the party. Summer was nearing its end and it was the perfect time for a garden party at Wren Dumont's newly renovated home in Idomouth.

Swarms of screaming and giggling children ran through the well-kept garden and around the house as bubbles danced in the air. Pink and lavender foil balloons drifted around aimlessly among multicolored confetti scattered frivolously on the ground, while pink-and-white banners were draped on top of the entryway and on the fences.

A stack of presents stood in one corner of the garden patio, under a rainbow styro backdrop, with neatly lined stuffed unicorns in various colors and sizes. At the center sat a small girl with a face that wore a grumpy, almost-tearful look - a perfect contrast to her soft and frilly, rainbow-colored tutu.

Saliou Matisse had not realized how difficult it was to organize a children's party, until today. But that was nothing compared to dealing with a child's temper tantrums, especially when it was directed at him.

He wanted everything to go off without a hitch for Flo's sake, but it's been almost half an hour since the party started and the birthday cake he'd promised her still hasn't been delivered.

Saliou sat just a few feet away from where Flo was, sharing a table with his mother and Wren. He kept giving his niece an apologetic look and mouthing a silent 'Sorry', but the little girl just kept glaring hard enough to bore a hole through him.

"I should probably go to her," Wren said, chuckling. "How many minutes 'til the cake arrives, Sal?"

Saliou took a sip from his wine glass while using his other hand to check on his phone. "No more than ten minutes," he replied to Wren. "I'm so sorry about this. The delivery truck broke down and had to be fixed first..."

"It's alright. I'll make sure to let Flo know it's not your fault." Wren stood up and slowly made his way towards his teary-eyed daughter.

Saliou sighed deeply as he laid his phone on top of the table and poured himself another glass of wine. "The cake was ready since last night, but this just has to happen," he murmured sullenly as he glanced sideways at his mother, who sat beside him with her legs crossed at the knee, sipping a glass of white wine.

As if Saliou wasn't feeling horrible enough, Mrs. Matisse said, teasingly, "She was looking forward to it all day, you know. A three-layered unicorn cake was all she could brag about to her friend Lola, who only had a two-tiered cake on her birthday last week."

"Jeez, Mom. Thanks." Saliou grunted as he ran a hand over his face.

"Kids will be kids. Survive the temper tantrums and everything else will be a piece of cake." Mrs. Matisse laughed playfully. "No pun intended, darling."

Saliou snorted. "Mom, enough. I'm already feeling shitty as it is."

For a moment, both he and Mrs. Matisse watched the scene before them in comfortable silence. Just across them, Wren was trying his best to quiet his daughter's agitation, but seemed to be failing miserably. Flo folded her arms tightly across her chest, her face turned away from her father, shaking off his attempt to calm her down.

Mrs. Matisse chortled. "Look at that. She's so much like Lou when she's sulking like that." She turned her head back to Saliou. "Don't you think so too, darling?"

"Yup... She takes after her mother. A lot." Saliou went quiet.

Mrs. Matisse suddenly realized that her simple remark may have touched a sensitive matter.

She took another sip of wine. "Speaking of kids," she started, clearing her throat, "when are you going to give your poor old mother some grandbabies?"

Saliou huffed and rolled his eyes. "Mom...! Not this again...!"

"What?" Mrs. Matisse retorted, shrugging her shoulders. "You're not getting any younger, Saliou Matisse. Besides, it'd be nice to see Flo grow up with cousins – with more permanent, lifelong company she can consider her brothers or sisters."

"We've talked about this a million times. Having kids isn't on top of my priority list," replied Saliou straightforwardly. "As a matter of fact, it's so low on my list, I'm planning to adopt a cat instead."

"That's good, dear," Mrs. Matisse said, nodding in approval. "Taking care of a pet is the first step to preparing for a child. You won't want to mess up raising a child after all, and taking care of an animal will give you good lessons on handling your own little human."

Saliou turned to his mother and scowled. "Mom, you don't get my point, do you?" He paused dramatically before saying in a louder voice, "I. Don't. Want. To. Have. Kids. I'm never going to be ready to bow down to some Alpha and pop out babies anytime soon. That's final. End of subject." He said it tartly, wanting to get the message across.

Mrs. Matisse placed a hand on top of Saliou's and pressed it gently. "It's fine if you don't want to have children, dear."

Saliou smiled in satisfaction.

"But if you ever change your mind," Mrs. Matisse pressed on, "allow me to suggest that you do it sooner rather than later."

"Mom, cut it out already. This is downright bullying." Saliou groaned as he took a huge gulp of his wine.