Chapter 9
Marisol
Iglide through the water, my fluke propelling me forward as the ocean calls me deeper, welcoming me home like an old friend. My hands stretch out in front of me as I dive down, my tail shimmering in the early morning light filtering in from above as I push harder, going faster and faster.
Having my tail again after a week of only having legs is revitalizing, my body singing with the freedom it brings me to explore the beautiful world below the surface. The autumnal water is invigorating, making my skin prickle and sharpening all my senses and clearing my mind.
I pause to watch a school of herring twisting and turning in a synchronized dance of metallic luminance. I consider trying to catch one for myself, but the happy memory of Bash feeding me fish while I’m sprawled in his lap makes me reconsider.
Will I always think of Bash whenever I eat herring again? Will I think of Silas every time I braid my hair? And will Killian be at the forefront of my thoughts when I have to carry something heavy, imagining his strong arms and how it felt to be cradled in them?
Far in the distance, a whale calls out, his melancholy song echoing through my heart. My week with Pack Morgan was amazing, and even if they said they want to see me again, will they really make the effort to come out to Starry Hill?
Wanting to leave any bleak thoughts behind in the water, I flick my tail sharply and turn, whipping myself in the opposite direction to return home.
I have one more day of rest before I’ll go back to Starry Hill and get The Singing Seahorse ready for Halloween, and I plan to do as little as possible until then.
When my head breaks through the surface, I slow my pace and squint up at my cottage, seeing two familiar figures standing on my porch, arms laden with food. A grin splits my face as I wave at them, excited to see their friendly faces.
Maisie puts down her wicker basket and cups her hands around her mouth. “We come bearing food,” she shouts and gesticulates at the basket still in Tilly’s arms.
Any traces of my uncharacteristic glumness remain behind me as I shift back into my legs and grab my towel on the beach, smiling broadly as I rush toward my friends.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask, stunned and warmed by their unexpected visit. I pull both into gentle hugs, keeping my body angled so I don’t get them too wet.
Tilly lifts one shoulder in a small shrug, her eyes soft and her smile solicitous. “We thought you could do with some food and a friendly visit.”
“And a debrief,” Maisie adds with a suggestive inflection as she hooks her arm through mine and leads me into the cottage.
“And that,” Tilly concedes, before quickly adding, “If you want.”
Bumping Maisie with my shoulder, I say, “Ah, you just want to know how good the fucking was.”
Maisie turns to me, her eyes wide and burning with excitement and a thousand questions. “Was it good? Would you do it again?”
I lean over the sink and wring some salt water from my hair. “How about you guys get the food ready while I get showered and changed, then I’ll tell you all about them?”
“Them,” Maisie swoons, both hands clasped to her chest. “Living the dream, aren’t you, Marisol?”
I laugh, a deep belly laugh for the first time since returning home. “Like you’re not getting enough dick while living with an actual incubus.”
“Too true,” Maisie admits, unwrapping fresh bread and placing it next to the soup Tilly brought. “No complaints in my department. But not all of us can have an incubus, so I guess you need multiple partners.”
Tilly pauses, one hand frozen midway from her basket as she arches a sassy brow. “Or an orc.”
“Yeah?” Maisie asks, practically foaming at the mouth for more information. “Bodin keeping you happy?”
“Like you can’t imagine,” she sighs out, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as her eyes glaze over.
Maisie and Tilly banter back and forth, and I slink away for a quick shower, a slight pang in my chest at the easy love and companionship my friends have found in their romantic relationships. It’s not like I need a partner. I’ve never needed anyone. Life has been good to me.
But…
The small taste of what could be, the feeling of being part of a pack, of being cared for and made a priority, it’s not something I can easily forget. Maybe I just need more time to adjust. Maybe once I get back into my normal routine I won’t be thinking about them so much.
After my shower, I join the girls for some lunch in the kitchen, a formidable spread of hearty foods and breads laid out on the table.
“You guys have been busy,” I say, dishing some lentil and bacon soup into my bowl.
Tilly plates some garden harvest bread and pushes it toward me. “We thought you might need to get your strength back after… you know.”
I nod my thanks at her then duck my head to hide the blush warming my cheeks. “I actually ate fairly well when I was lucid enough to ask for food.”
Reaching for my hand, Tilly’s voice gentles, her tenderheartedness seeping through her words.
“Just to be transparent, I had gotten in touch with Lauren a couple of times throughout the week to check on you. They reported that one of your heat partners gave them a daily breakdown of the food you had consumed, water intake, and general health status.”
“They did?” I ask, my chest tightening at the sweet gesture.
I know updates aren’t part of the requirements at Nesting Grounds, so hearing this is a bit of a surprise.
Lauren had discussed the privacy and security systems with me beforehand and had shown me where the panic buttons were hidden around the entire nest. My personal preference was not to be disturbed unless I called for help.
Yet, the pack went above and beyond what was required of them.
Tilly’s smile is understanding, reading something in my expression I didn’t intentionally mean to broadcast. “Yeah. Lauren told me that the alpha in the pack wanted your friends and family to rest assured that you were being cared for. He requested that if anyone called that we be updated, within certain parameters, of course. Apparently he made it very clear that nothing can be shared that would betray your confidence or trust in them. He sounded very protective of you.”
Silas. This has Silas written all over it.
Fuck. My heart is in so much trouble with Pack Morgan. I think they’ve each slowly buried themselves under my skin and carved their names into my heart. I don’t want to think of ever having a heat by myself again, or with anyone but them.
“He sounds nice,” Maisie says, her tone soft. She places one hand on my shoulder, and the combined support from my friends makes my walls crumble.
Eyes stinging, I look up as I exhale my words, “They all were.”
“Want to tell us about them?” Maisie asks ever so gently.
Looking between my two friends, I swallow, then whisper, “I don’t know how much to say or where to start.
” Neither of them responds. They simply sit with me, waiting patiently for me to find the words.
“The one who would’ve done the updates is Silas.
He’s a panther shifter and one of the most observant creatures I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.
He’s thoughtful and dominant, ruggedly handsome, and a fishing boat captain. ”
Maisie hums with appreciation. “Now that’s a package. And the others?”
“Killian is a wolf shifter and also Silas’s partner. He’s a big, muscly grump who’s actually a giant softy with a voice like velvet. He also happens to be a professor at Cape Easton University, teaching marine ecosystem-based management.”
Tilly’s brows rise with every extra sentence. “Another shifter with a job related to the ocean?” she asks, sounding impressed. “That’s pretty rare.”
Maisie wriggles in her seat and her eyes blaze with excitement. “Sounds like fate.”
I choose to ignore that comment, knowing it’s a dangerous thought to even consider.
“There’s one more in Pack Morgan,” I say quietly, my voice a little sappy just thinking about all three of them.
“He’s a free diver and lives for the ocean.
Bash. A cheeky fox shifter who had me blushing one moment and in fits of laughter the next.
He’s sweet and so good-looking it’s actually charming. ”
Maisie claps her hands. “They sound perfect for you.”
“They were,” I say, unable to keep the longing from seeping into my words.
Tilly squeezes my hand. “Will you see them again?”
“I don’t know.” The words are hardly more than a whisper.
Maisie leans forward and catches my eye. “Do you want to?”
I clear my throat and square my shoulders, admitting bravely, “Yes. I told them about Starry Hill and gave them the name of The Singing Seahorse. If they will actually do anything with that information remains to be seen.”
Rubbing her hands together like some conspiring supervillain, Maisie intones joyfully, “Oh, we’ll definitely be meeting them soon. I just know it. How cool would it be if they all showed up for the Halloween party?”
I take that as my out and switch topics gratefully, “How’s the planning going with that? Anything significant I need to be updated on?”
“Well, yes,” Tilly says, spreading her arms wide to gesture in the general direction of Starry Hill. “Everyone wants to be involved.”
“Everyone?”
“Everyone,” they confirm in unison.
Tilly butters her slice of bread as she starts to explain, “The guys have decided to transform Arran’s castle into a haunted mansion.
They’re all going to dress up as zombies and the kids can go in early to explore, then later in the evening they’ll amp things up and make it even scarier for our lot. ”
My mouth falls open. “How cool is that?! And Arran is on board with all of this? Can’t believe how soft that grumpy old vampire is getting. If things keep progressing he might finally cave and get electricity. Or join us for karaoke.”
“Or get a puppy,” Maisie adds around a spoonful of soup.
“Can you imagine?” Tilly laughs.
“I don’t think I can.” Just picturing the curmudgeonly loner with a tiny dog has me giggling. Tilly, Maisie, and I eat and chat, my home rich with the company of my friends and the delicious meal they brought me.
When I get up to make a pot of tea for us, Maisie says, “Oh, Aunt Annamae, Doc Calla, and Lucille are dressing up as ghost girlies and asked to judge a costume contest. They have categories figured out and everything.”
My whole body buoys up with every new element added to the party. “A costume contest. Amazing! I still have to think of something for myself.”
Maisie taps her toes on my stone floor and adds, “And all of the main hill will be transformed into a massive Halloween town. Every shop wants to participate and everyone will dress up and help with decorations.”
I stare out the window behind my friends, imagining what Starry Hill is going to look like. “It’s going to be magical.”
Tilly holds her fingers up and taps each one as she goes down her list. “Aurelius is in charge of lanterns and lighting, mothman interests and all. Annamae will do pumpkins and all the foliage, and Richard will do trick-or-treat baskets to hand out to the kids coming up the hill.” She looks at my slack-jawed expression and continues, “Calixta and Beryl want to make a potions tree—aka shots—hanging from it. Pierre also offered to design cobwebs throughout the town, saying it’s a job that can only be entrusted to him because gargoyle wings give you some kind of advantage or something.
And Katie is finding you a giant cauldron for your famous punch. ”
I shake my head in disbelief and wonder. “Damnnn, you girls have been busy.”
Maisie takes the cup I offer her. “We just asked around and shared general ideas and told everyone to come to us if they have something they’d like to see or do. Everything snowballed very quickly and here we are with a full-on Halloween festival.”
“This is so impressive,” I say, truly astounded by Starry Hill’s spirit.
In all my years I’ve lived here, it’s never been more than a small event for kids.
But the moment Maisie suggested we should do something for the whole town, I was in.
Never did I imagine the entire community would feel the same.
Tilly plops a stick of cinnamon in her cup, a couple of drops of hot tea splashing onto her hand.
She quickly wipes it clean and blows on it before saying, “Don’t forget about Beck and Viggo.
They’re discussing how to do floating jack-o’-lanterns in Kraken Cove and ways to keep them from drifting out into the ocean. ”
I shake my head. “That’s going to look spectacular.”
A not-so-small part of me yearns to see Pack Morgan at the party, wanting to share all of this with them and picturing how well they’ll fit into Starry Hill.
There’s no harm in dreaming, though. Right?
I guess only time will tell.