Chapter 10 #3
“Come with me,” he says when he breaks the kiss and its spell. “I want to show you something.”
He leads me down those little stairs that were getting my curiosity.
They lead, I discover, to a private forest clearing.
It looks like there’s a place for a fire and maybe a picnic table or something of that nature, but none of that is here now.
It’s just an empty space in the middle of what suddenly feels like nowhere.
His arms wrap around me from behind, he draws me down in the clearing, and together we sit on the embankment that faces the moon.
“Relax,” he says. “Let it happen.”
For a second, I don’t know what he means by ‘it.’ Then I realize what he is trying to do. He wants me to shift. Not going to happen. Not ever going to happen.
“Sounds like sex,” I laugh, changing the subject.
He chuckles behind me.
“I want you to feel the moon,” he says. “Deep inside you. Draw it in with every breath you take.”
She does seem especially large and shimmering tonight.
I always liked the moon. When I was a kid, I used to insist on sleeping in moonbeams. No curtains for me—not that I often had the option of them anyway, seeing as most of the nights I slept as a child, I slept in the back seat of my father’s car.
When I got older and started the Runaways, I started sleeping indoors and I forgot about her.
I take a deep breath, just like he told me to. I feel the calm of the night flowing into my veins. There is a peace to the moment. I haven’t felt peace in a long time. It feels as though I’ve been riled up day in and day out since I met Rex.
“I thought the moon would make me shift, or make me want to,” I say. “But I don’t feel that at all.”
“I’m not going to force you to shift,” he says. “That’s a very personal thing, and there’s no need for me to try to make you do something you don’t want to do. I do wish you’d tell me why.”
“I can’t tell you why.”
“Then we’ll stay out here and we’ll sleep in the moonlight, and when you do feel like telling me, I’ll be ready to hear it.”
He’s being so nice, and I really don’t know why.
I know the pack expects me to shift. I know they will one day want to see my wolf form.
That can never happen, and I can never tell him why.
If he knew what I came from, who I really am, what my bloodline demands of me, he wouldn’t have me as his mate.
He definitely wouldn’t be trying to make pups with me either.
* * *
Rex
I feel some of the tension fade from her body. What I said was true. I am not going to force a shift. I don’t think I could at this point anyway. Most female shifters take their wolf form after they are mated, if not before. It’s practically unheard of for a bred female to not shift.
But there’s something inside my mate that is stopping her, and she seems to want it stopped. So I hold her in the moon and I help her to settle. She has been so much less wild since she came here. The lack of control her pack called me about is no longer in evidence.
It is good for her to be among other wolves who outrank her in either prestige, age, or power. Being the alpha of her little pack has put her into a state of constant stress. Being mated probably made it all worse. Probably brought up a whole slew of needs she has been denying for years.
I want her to feel safe. I want her to be able to trust me. I want her to know that she will always be taken care of when I am close. Even when I am far, my influence protects her. I don’t think she understands that just yet.
I think she is still in a state of fight or flight, even now, lying in my arms. We are still functional strangers to one another and that cannot be changed or helped. Only time can build familiarity necessary for true trust.
This is the first night of many. A lifetime of evening moons awaits us. I will be patient with her. I will enjoy the time I have with her, and I will watch her inexorably and inevitably reveal herself to me.
Her breathing deepens and slows, and I know that she has gone to sleep. I wasn’t entirely serious about sleeping outdoors. We are both still formally dressed. I can’t imagine either one of us will be comfortable. These pants are…
She makes a contented little sound in her sleep and I immediately go still. I’m not waking her up from this rest. She needs it. Instead, I snug her up in my arms, lay back, and let the gathering wisps of cloud trace over the moon above.
I feel her stir at some ungodly time of night, and, waking myself, decide I am going to carry her into bed. Then she whines. And I feel her jolt. I look down at her face. Her expression has not changed much. She is fast asleep, but her body is doing a lot.
There is a thick caramel fur around her hairline that was not there when we went to sleep. I am certain of that. Her legs are longer, her arms are… I slide out from under her gently because a wolf is a very large creature and I am about to end up under one, if I am not careful.
The little black dress comes apart at the seams as she breathes the moon into her body and it transforms into the creature that has always been inside her.
In a matter of minutes, she is lying in her fully furred self, still completely asleep under the moon.
I reach out with reverence, touch the soft fur between her large, pricked ears.
She’s a red wolf. I would not have expected that.
The fur around her legs and feet is quite pale, but she has a deeper ginger stripe running down her spine.
In certain lights, she might appear domesticated by those who do not know what they are looking at, but she is entirely wolf.
Her muzzle is strong. Her body is lithe.
She is ready to chase, to hunt, to howl.
But instead she nuzzles up against me in her sleep, and she continues to slumber.
“Such a good girl,” I praise her. She can’t hear me, but I hope she can feel my approval. She deserves to feel good.
As the long night wanes, she slips back into her human form. I scoop her up in my arms and carry her off to bed. She is exhausted, of course. The shift will have drained every bit of energy in her. When she wakes, she will be sore, and perhaps confused. I will tend her until that time.