44. Simon
The barn is dark and quiet, and I linger in its depths instead of returning to the house. Quin and Isobel need this time together to reconnect, and I need to figure out where to go from here.
Since shifting back to my human form, I’ve reconnected with my friends and family. I’ve had to mute my bonds with my parents, as the constant bombardment of their worry and demand for contact riddles me with guilt. I can’t deal with their inevitable questions and requests for me to return to them so they can coddle me. I need to be able to stand on my own feet, find my own happiness, and not rely on them for everything. I’m no longer a child. I’m now older than my father was when he and my mother first welcomed me into the world, and they’d been mated for a couple of years themselves by then.
If I decide to return to the world I left behind, I have no doubt that Nox would be here in a heartbeat should I call him. The only reason I don’t already have him, Sila, and the guys on the doorstep is because I’ve locked down our bonds tight enough that they can’t track me. They know I’m alive, they know I’m relatively safe, and I have to concentrate on ignoring Sila’s continual prodding along our bond each day. They’re giving me space, but Nox and Sila’s desperation to lay eyes on me, to have that visible reassurance for themselves that I’m okay is growing every day.
Cyril, Sarai, and Aodhán would also come and collect me should I ask, but they’re also busy setting up their lives together as a triad. I’ve been reassuring Cyril down our bond, but it’s Aodhán’s steadfast comfort and acceptance that has been keeping me stable. Cyril isn’t as desperate as Nox and Sila, but he’s not far off. I think that Sarai and Aodhán have been concentrating on keeping him occupied; otherwise, he’d be relentless in his quest to discover where I am.
But my return to my old life is inevitable, especially with Quin’s homecoming. I can’t continue to hide out here, leaving my loved ones hanging. Perhaps I should talk to Josiah, see what he thinks. Maybe he can run interference for me, call Nox and Cyril in a day or two to come and collect me. That should give me enough time to say my goodbyes.
Tálstrom snarls inside me at the thought of leaving my new family behind.
They’re not ours, dude,I tell him. They’re fated mates who have completed their bonds. They have a cub of their own. There’s no place for us here anymore, not now that Quin’s home. Isobel and Arina have their protector back.
Tál argues with me, flashing images of my memories and conversations back at me. The day I forged blood bonds with Quin and promised that I would stand beside him. The moment Isobel asked me to become Arina’s godfather. Holding my little angel in my arms for the very first time.
Fine,I huff back at him, but if they ask us to leave, we will. Besides, we don’t need to live in the same house as them. We can give them space, and still be close enough to uphold our promises.
Tál turns his back on me, unable to argue. He knows I’m right.
I finally give up on lurking in the darkness, carting the replacement pieces of door frame that I’ve shaped and sanded back to the house. The back door is still propped open, and I put the pieces of lumber and the toolbox down on the deck and get to work as quietly as I can. I’m gonna make noise, there’s no getting around that, but I don’t want to wake Arina.
She’s a handful when she’s tired and cranky and won’t settle unless she’s in my arms. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll never tire of her affection, but it’s not fair on everyone else. Plus, I can’t use power tools with only one hand.
Quin approaches me while I’m removing the splintered wood, standing sentinel silently as I work. He doesn’t say a word as I sand the frame down, or when I pass him one of the pieces of wood to hold as I grab the wood glue, hammer, and nails. Even as I prepare the frame, then hammer the replacement in place, he remains tight-lipped. He just stands there, watching me with an expectant air.
I need to wait a little while before I reattach the door, so I busy myself by cleaning up the detritus from the repairs. Quin helps, still not saying a word, and his silence is beginning to weigh on me. I don’t know if he’s expecting me to speak first, and even as I brush along our bond, I can’t read his intent. I’ve taught him too well; he’s become a master at suppressing them.
It’s not until I’ve eventually re-affixed the door that Quin speaks, and while his words are spoken softly, they ring out into the night like a gunshot.
“Simon, you can’t leave us. You’re ours.”
My brain does the equivalent of the blue screen of death.
My body hitches to a stop, and I just stare at him as I struggle to comprehend not only what Quin just stated but trying to parse the meaning behind his words.
418 error, goes my brain.
Quin takes full advantage of my stupor, and what he offers is beyond even my wildest dreams.
“You… you can’t be serious, Quin. Isobel is your mate, as you rightly stated earlier. Not just your mate, but your fated mate. What you’re proposing? I don’t think it’s ever been done before. How can you know you’ll both feel the same way afterward? What if my inclusion tears your bonds apart? I can’t… I can’t do that to someone again. Not now that I know what could happen. No.”
Isobel’s light footsteps sound from the hallway, her voice soft but carrying.
“Simon, while we have to respect your choice, this isn’t something that Quin and I are rushing into blindly. You’ve already bonded with him. You’ve bonded with Arina. How do you think they’ll feel if you disappear? While we may not share a mate bond yet, losing you will hurt me more than you can imagine. I may not be a true shifter, but I still have enough cat inside of me to feel those tenuous threads of a true mate bond forming with you. Please, don’t push us away. You’re ours. We’re yours. We both love you, albeit not in the same way. Please, don’t tear our hearts out and leave us, because you’ll take them with you when you go.”
My heart swells with hope, and I force myself to allow it. I trust these two as much, if not more in some respects, than the rest of my family.
“Do you mean it? Both of you?” My words are edged with expectancy and want, my desire for a family of my own—however that might look—a burning river of fire threading through my very soul.
Quin steps up to me, bringing Isobel with him so that they are inside my personal bubble. He rests his hand on my shoulder, his voice strong and sincere as he speaks the words into the world, making it all real:
“Simon Gatto, my brother, will you take Isobel as your true mate and form a triad with us?”
***
I wish I could say that I hauled Isobel into the bedroom and mated with her the moment Quin’s offer left his mouth, but reality isn’t like that. Instead, Arina chooses that moment to awaken, and Isobel hurries back and tend to our little cub.
Ours,Tálstrom growls inside my head with no small sense of satisfaction.
I can’t blame him. I, too, am smitten with my little angel, and while I still have no clue how all of this is going to work, I’ll be the best gods-damned daddy to her that I can be. If we are blessed with more cubs in the future, then I’ll give them just as much love and attention as Arina.
While Isobel changes and feeds Arina, Quin helps me tidy up the kitchen and back deck. I still feel like this is all a dream, and I’m covered in sawdust, epoxy, wood glue, and sweat. I need a shower and a moment to myself to truly grasp the situation. I’m half-tempted to get Isobel and Quin to sleep on it, especially as this is Quin’s first night home.
A sudden thought seizes me, and I look over at Quin.
“Uh, is Isobel even going to be able to do anything with either of us right now? She’s only a couple of weeks postpartum, and I always thought women were told that sex was a no-go for at least six weeks so they can heal. I don’t want to hurt her, or even step on your toes when it comes to intimacy between you both.”
Isobel’s laughter rebounds down the hall as she walks into the kitchen, Arina content in her arms.
“While I’ve never shifted, Simon, I’ve got enough shifter in me for it to affect my instincts and my healing. Yesterday’s check-in with my obstetrician gave me the all-clear, although she recommended I wait at least a year before trying for another baby. I might heal quicker than humans, but pregnancy and childbirth still took a toll on my body, and I don’t bounce back like full shifters do. So yes, I can enjoy sexual interactions with my mates without it harming me. And to be honest, with what Quin has gone through, he wants you close by in case something happens during our first time together again. We’re neither of us the same people we were when we first mated. I happen to agree with him. Plus, voyeurism is a kink I think I’d like to try.”
My blood rushes south at Isobel’s suggestion. A quick glance over at Quin shows that her words have affected him in a similar manner.
“I… I need a shower,” I croak, completely flustered. I flush with embarrassment at my stuttered words and complete lack of poise, rushing past Quin and Isobel and almost sprinting down the hall. I need to get my shit together. While I’m no blushing virgin, it’s been a long time since I’ve been intimate with a woman and I’ve got no faith in my skills of seduction and pleasure.
I grab the first pair of clean sweats I can find and lock myself in the bathroom. I strip out of my filthy clothes, cursing under my breath as my hard-on catches on my jeans and boxers as I tug them off. I turn the shower on, blasting frigid water into the bottom of the tub and climb in, yanking the shower curtain back across the rail to prevent the water from spreading outside.
The icy water does its job, my cock deflating under the needle-like spray. It cools my ardor enough that I can think about Quin and Isobel’s offer with a calmer head.
After all Tál and I have endured, the agony, the loss… the deaths… am I truly ready to open myself up for further possible rejection and pain? While I don’t think that Isobel or Quin are lying about how they feel, or playing with my emotions, nothing in life is certain. To have such happiness dangled in front of me… if I accept, and it’s later stripped from me, I don’t think Tál or I will survive.
I guess I just have to figure out whether the probable love and joys I’ll experience with them as part of a triad outweighs the risk of betrayal and heartbreak.
The water flowing over my head and shoulders washes away everything clouding my decision, leaving me with crystal-clear clarity.
Resolve fills me, and I quickly scrub myself clean, eager to join my best friends and become a true family.