Chapter 4
FOUR
ROSCOE
Days after Reed signed the lease, hammering and the distinctive buzz of power tools had become just as much a part of Right as Rain(deer) as the rustle of pine needles.
Though the others had objected, I’d bunk down in the barn until we could build my cabin. I wasn’t an Alpha in the traditional sense, and the pack wasn’t run like that, though the former Alpha Jerome had tried to bend us to his will. We made decisions by consensus.
I scented Reed before I caught a glimpse of him.
My work was winding down for the year so I was able to be here helping on the building site.
Being this close to him for hours was testing the control I'd spent years developing. My reindeer wasn’t helping, insisting I had to spend more time with our mate.
“Hand me that level, would you, please?” Reed appeared at my elbow.
He'd been assisting with the construction despite us protesting that it wasn’t necessary because he’d fulfilled his part of the agreement.
I couldn’t decide if looking at him from a distance or not seeing him at all was better or worse than having his scent hovering around me, teasing me because he was still out of reach.
I wasn’t myself.
Who are you?
I’m not acting like the me I know I am. It was almost impossible to explain the concept to my beast.
I wanted Reed. I was greedy for his lips to be on mine and for me to inhale his breath as we kissed. Avoiding him wasn’t possible and I’d have to make some excuse about needing to attend to my other work despite the instinct that had me wanting to be by his side.
I passed him the tool, making sure my fingers didn’t brush over his. Even the smallest contact got my reindeer excited and my body tingled, making it difficult to stay in my human form.
Reed was my mate. Once I moved into the barn and Christmas was over, I’d consider how to blend my leisure time to fit into Reed’s daily routine so we’d get to know one another.
And though he glanced in my direction frequently, I was certain he was unaware of the effect he had on me. I eyed him as he jogged back to the barn frame but I was dragged away from daydreaming and back to the present by Erik telling me how pleased he was at our progress.
“You're going to do some damage if you keep staring at him like that.”
Zelda had a knack of sussing out what people were thinking.
Though I had been the Alpha’s designated heir, Jerome, the land snatcher, had anointed himself Alpha after Rayne’s death. Zelda had been Rayne’s mate and our Alpha Omega. The pack had flourished under Rayne’s leadership and he’d insisted I attend college, the first in our small pack to do so.
But using information previous Alphas had overlooked, Jerome had sold our land and pocketed the profits and I’d been voted the new leader. And the pack was thankful Zelda had squirreled away most of the profits from Herbal Harmony or we’d be in deep doo doo.
So while I was the Alpha, Zelda was our matriarch and she always spotted when someone was sad, ill or in love.
Not that it took much skill to suss out my desire for Reed.
She was holding a thermos of coffee and I hoped Reed hadn’t made it.
“I’m supervising the construction.” I couldn’t make myself climb a ladder and join the others because I’d be too close to Reed. “And making sure everything is going well.”
“I see.” Zelda poured coffee into two cups. The steam rose and a nutty aroma drifted alone with it. Ahhh Reed hadn’t had a hand in making this brew. “Does the plan include you wanting to devour our landlord?"
In spite of the cold weather, sweat trickled into my briefs. “I don't know what you're talking about.” I’d just admitted to myself I was smitten, it was written in big letters on my brow sort of, and yet I lied to Zelda.
“Roscoe.” She elbowed me. “I’ve known you since you were a young boy and had your first shift in the middle of a pack meeting. You're not subtle.”
Subtle? You’re not at all. My reindeer might not have a grasp of all the words in the dictionary, but I’d been accused of being less than subtle by the Alpha who stole our heritage. Also memories of my and Reed’s first meeting were burned into my brain.
I accepted the coffee using that as an excuse to pause the conversation. But I couldn’t ignore her because Zelda wouldn’t let me.
“It doesn't matter what I want.” I ground the heel of my boot into the snow. “He's human.”
Zelda reminded me I didn’t need the reindeer council’s approval to mate.
I clenched my fists at the mention of that group.
None of the pack was pleased with how our council, the head of all the reindeer packs, had dealt with Jerome when he absconded with our money.
They washed their hands of it, saying it was our fault for not registering the title.
Jerome had claimed he owned the land and filed the necessary paperwork to sell it.
But they were pestering me regarding our progress because our wild cousins wanted to use this land during the Christmas festivities.
They had been here once, thirty years ago, before we acquired our former home, and needed somewhere to be on Christmas Eve.
And our pack was looking forward to joining them.
She gave me one of her looks. “You found us what we needed. Look around, Roscoe. We have a safe place to live and it already feels like home.” She sniffed. “Smells like it too.” She snuck a glance at Reed. “And we’re sharing it with a human who cares about the environment.”
“A human who doesn't know what we are,” I reminded her. “He has no idea he's leasing land to a pack of shifters.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to tell him because those looks you’re giving him fool no one.”
How could I do that? He’d think it was a trick and that I was planning to screw him over regarding the lease. “I can’t. He’d never understand.”
Zelda snorted. “That man talks to his trees. He’ll be in shock but he’ll come around quickly.” She tapped my shoulder. “And I've seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one's watching.”
My heart rate increased. “How does he do that?”
“Let me think.” She smirked. “It’s almost as if he’s trying to figure out why you make him feel things.”
Before I could respond, the tinkling of music drifted across the construction site.
Reed must have brought a radio and it was playing Christmas carols.
I tensed because holiday music was my kryptonite and I was already stressed about not being with my mate.
Reed made it worse by singing along to the music.
Damn and it was that one, about a reindeer with a glowing red nose, and everything I’d put in place to maintain my human form crumbled.
The partial shift had antlers sprouting from my head and my face stretching to form a muzzle. I wrenched my human form back from my beast. Not that it was his fault. Neither of us could resist the power of that Christmas carol combined with our mate’s scent.
It was too late.
Reed was staring at me and the color had drained from his cheeks. While I was still human, my chin, jaw and nose hadn’t reconfigured properly and my face might be lopsided.
“Roscoe?” He slid down the ladder and Erik grabbed him before he went headfirst into the ground. “What happened to you?”
The construction site was quiet. Everyone had stopped working. They all had their own shifting ‘triggers’. Mine was that damned carol. The others were immune to it, though some of our younger members got furry when they heard other carols.
Tension simmered between us and I could almost see and taste it. It was more bitter than Reed’s coffee. If the pack wondered how I’d deal with the incident, Reed was thinking what the ever loving F just happened.
Depending on how I handled this, Reed could call a lawyer, saying I defrauded him and we’d be homeless again.
All eyes were on me. But where did I find the words to explain that his scent combined with a popular Christmas carol had triggered a partial transformation and I was a reindeer shifter.
And to finish, I’d tell him I was fighting my fate.
Reed squinted at me. “Are you in pain? You don’t look well.”
Damn. I almost wished he’d demanded an explanation because I could deal with that. But he was worried about me. There was concern in his voice and his first instinct was to comfort me.
I came undone.
“What you just saw… it’s… I can explain, but you're not going to like what I have to say.”
“Try me.”
I looked at my pack who were either nodding or the younger ones were giving me a thumbs up.
“You’ll need to sit.”
He slumped onto the snow. Ugh he’d freeze. One of the kids raced up with two folding chairs and a battery operated heater. There were no rules when it came to explaining the beast inside you to a human.
“I’m not like you. None of us is.”
He chuckled. “Oh really? I never would have guessed.” He rubbed a hand over his head. “Nope. No antlers. You’re definitely not like me.”