Chapter 12 Jasper #2
“I, um.” She looks embarrassed. “I may have gotten a bit carried away when I was shopping for Halloween supplies earlier in the week. I saw these at the pet store and couldn’t resist.”
Oh no.
She pulls out two costumes. Pet costumes. A tiny tuxedo with a bow tie, and a little witch’s outfit complete with a tiny hat.
Tabitha and I stare.
“I know it’s silly,” Bea says quickly. “But I thought maybe, if you didn’t mind shifting just for the evening, you could wear these? The neighborhood children would love it. You’d be like those dogs who help hand out candy on the internet. Except…not dogs.”
I look at Tabitha. She looks at me.
Through our bond, I feel her amusement mixing with her affection for Bea. She wants to do this. For her.
‘A tuxedo?’ I think at her.
‘It could be worse. You could be wearing the witch costume.’
‘Fair point.’
“We’ll do it,” I say out loud. “But I’m drawing the line at wearing any hats,” I add, knowing full well the moment Bea pulls the tiny top hat out of the bag, it’s going on my head immediately.
Tabitha eyes the little witch costume. “Do I have to wear the hat?” she asks, her tone... resigned but not unhappy.
“You’d look adorable,” I say, and mean it.
She rolls her eyes. “Fox, you are the worst.”
“And you’re the best. See? We’re a matched set.”
Bea beams. “You two are wonderful. Thank you for humoring an old lady.”
She gets misty again, and Tabitha looks away, jaw clenching like she’s fighting not to let the emotions boil over.
I get it. Both of us are built for survival, and no amount of therapy or midnight sex is going to unspool a lifetime of never expecting to belong anywhere.
But here we are, about to dress up like a couple of idiots, ready to hand out candy to children, and feeling for the first time like we’re the luckiest bastards in the entire world.
I grab the bow tie first, because I figure dignity is for people who live in condos and drive sedans, then I set it down and shift down to my fox shape.
Tabitha snickers as I emerge from the neck of my new t-shirt, then she tugs the elastic bow tie around my neck.
I resist the urge to snap at her fingers—she’d just take it as an invitation, anyway.
When she steps back and looks at me, her whole face lights up in this rare, unguarded way, and it makes every humiliation worth it.
“You look incredibly stupid,” she announces. “Like a fox with a side hustle as a wedding officiant.”
I just give a dramatic little fox bow, because if I’m going down, I’m going down with style. Bea cackles with delight.
Tabitha shifts next, and Bea nearly weeps from joy.
The witch dress fits adorably, and the little pointy hat with the misaligned brim is so perfectly ridiculous that I’m honestly a little offended at how cute she looks.
She turns three times in place, tail flicking in agitation, and Bea coos at her like she’s a baby.
Which, for the record, she is not. She’s pure predator, though tonight you’d never know it.
The parade starts at sunset and the entire street is out in force. Bea puts us on leashes—because it’s the law. Then she hooks the witch’s broom to Tabitha, and we’re off, walking down the sidewalk in full regalia.
Children shriek with delight, and grown-ups pull out their phones to take pictures.
I see at least a dozen people whispering about the ‘well-trained fox and cat’ and one woman is so struck by Tabitha’s costume that she asks if she can take her home.
Tabitha hisses at her, but in a way that’s somehow both elegant and endearing.
An hour later, we’re back home and waiting for the first wave of trick-or-treaters to arrive—a group of kids dressed as superheroes and princesses, their parents trailing behind with cameras.
“Oh, my goodness!” one little girl squeals. “Look at the fox! And the kitty!”
Bea beams. “These are my pets, Sox and Whiskers. Would you like to say hello?”
The kids swarm us, and I do my best to sit still while they pet me and exclaim over our costumes. It’s actually kind of adorable. One kid—dressed as Spider-Man—keeps trying to adjust my bow tie because it’s ‘crooked.’
‘This is not how I expected to spend Halloween,’ I think at Tabitha.
‘I know. But look how happy Bea is.’
I glance over and see Bea chatting with the parents, her face bright with joy. She looks younger somehow. Happier.
‘Yeah,’ I admit. ‘It’s pretty sweet. She’s a great person. I can see why you stayed so long.’
As the evening progresses, more and more kids come by. They all want to meet us. Bea tells everyone how smart we are, how well-behaved, how lucky she was to have us.
One kid asks if he can teach me to shake hands. I do it perfectly, of course.
The kid loses his mind. “MOM! THE FOX KNOWS TRICKS!”
‘Show-off,’ Tabitha thinks at me.
‘Jealous?’
‘You literally just shook a six-year-old’s hand. That’s not impressive.’
‘The six-year-old disagrees.’
A neighbor—Mrs. Patterson from two houses down—stops to chat with Bea. “These animals are remarkable! How did you train them so well?”
Bea just smiles. “Oh, they’re very smart. Practically human, really.”
I nearly choke on my own tongue.
‘Did she just—’ Tabitha starts.
‘She did.’
‘She has jokes now.’
‘Apparently.’
By the time the trick-or-treaters slow down around eight o’clock, I’m exhausted in a way I’ve never been before. Not from danger or survival, but from sitting still and being cute for children. It’s a different kind of tired.
But it’s a good tired.
Bea starts cleaning up the candy wrappers and empty bowls, so we take that as I cue to head back inside and shift back to humans so we can help her.
“That was wonderful,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you both so much. You have no idea what this means to me.”
“We do,” I say. “It was pretty great for us too.”
“You have no idea what you’ve done for us, Bea,” Tabitha adds.
Bea looks at us and her eyes fill with tears. “You gave me the best Halloween.”
“You gave us a home,” Tabitha says softly. “This is the least we could do.”
We all stand there for a moment, the three of us on the porch, surrounded by the remnants of the evening. Then Bea pulls us both into a hug, and we let her, because that’s what family does.
“I’m going to head to bed,” Bea says eventually, pulling back and wiping her eyes. “You two should get some rest too. It’s been quite a day.”
“Goodnight, Bea,” we say in unison.
“Goodnight, my dears.” She pauses at the door. “Oh, and Jasper? The tuxedo really did suit you.”
She disappears inside, and I realize the tiny bow tie is still somehow attached to my collar.
Tabitha bursts out laughing.
“Shut up,” I mutter, trying to remove it.
“Never.” She helps me take it off. “Come on, let’s finish cleaning this up and go to bed.”
“Bed? We’re nocturnal, Tabitha.”
She turns to me with a glint in her eye. “I never said anything about sleeping.”
We work together to pack away the last of the decorations and sweep the porch. She keeps brushing against me—deliberately, I’m pretty sure—and every time she does, heat pools low in my gut.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” I murmur when she reaches across me to grab a box, her breast pressing into my arm.
“Doing what?” She bats her eyelashes innocently.
“You know what.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, fox.” But the smile on her face tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing.
By the time we finish and head to our room, I’m half-hard and trying not to rush her.
When we finally make it, I close the door behind us and pull her into my arms, kissing her deeply.
She melts into me, her hands sliding up my chest and into my hair. “Missed this,” she murmurs against my lips. “Being alone with you.”
“It’s been like twelve hours.”
“Twelve hours too long.”
I walk her backward toward the bed, my hands finding the hem of her new sweater. “You know what I realized today?”
“What?” She helps me pull the sweater over her head.
“We’ve never taken our time making love.” I trail kisses down her neck. “Always been stolen moments. Spare bedroom. Couch. Bathroom counter.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Not complaining. Just...” I lay her down on the bed and cover her body with mine. “Just appreciating that we have this now. Time. Space. No one listening.”
She smiles up at me, her fingers tracing my jaw. “Make love to me then. Slow. Like we have all the time in the world.”
“We do have all the time in the world.”
And I do. I take my time undressing her, kissing every inch of skin I reveal. She does the same to me, her hands gentle and reverent, like she’s memorizing me.
When I finally slide inside her, we both sigh like we’re coming home.
We move together slowly, savoring every sensation, every connection. Through our bond, I feel everything she feels—the stretch, the fullness, the building pleasure. And she feels me too—the overwhelming rightness of being inside her, the love that threatens to choke me.
“Jasper,” she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders. “I love you. I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” I bury my face in her neck, breathing her in. “So fucking much, Tabitha. You’re everything.”
We come together, slow and sweet, and afterward I hold her close, neither of us wanting to break the connection.
Eventually, we move to lie side by side, her head on my chest, my arm around her shoulders, and I find myself actually thinking toward the future—something I’ve never allowed myself to do before.
“What are you thinking about?” Tabitha asks eventually. “You’re blocking me a little there.”
“It’s nothing serious. Just the future. Us. This life we’re building.”
She props herself up on one elbow to look at me. “That is kind of serious, you know?”
“I suppose it is.” I run my hand down her arm.
“Are you worried?”
“No. I was just thinking.”
“About?”
“That maybe we should make it official at some point.”
“Official?”
“Married. I know we’re already bonded, but humans do the marriage thing. And I think Bea would like to see that. So...” I meet her eyes. “Marry me, Tabitha. For real. Not just because we’re fated, but because I want everyone to know you’re mine and I’m yours.”
Her eyes go wide. “Are you... are you proposing right now? Like this? Naked in bed after sex?”
“Is that bad?”
“It’s very you.” She laughs, then her expression softens. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, you ridiculous fox.”
I pull her in for a kiss, deep and claiming. “I’m going to get you a ring. A proper one. And we’ll do it right.”
“I don’t need a ring.”
“I know. But I want to give you one, anyway.” I trace her cheekbone with my thumb. “I want to give you everything, Tabitha. A home, a family, a life. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
“I want this,” she whispers. “This life we’re building with Bea. I want to take care of her as she gets older. I want us to have jobs and pay bills and be normal people who happen to turn into animals sometimes.”
“We can do that.”
“And I want...” She hesitates, biting her lip.
“What?”
“Kids. Eventually. I know we don’t know if it’s even possible with cross-species mating, but—”
“I want that too.” The certainty in my voice surprises even me. “I never thought I’d want cubs. Never thought I’d be in one place long enough. But with you? Yeah. I want that. A whole litter of little fox-cats running around causing chaos.”
“A litter?” She swats my chest. “I’m not having a litter, Jasper.”
“Two then. Maybe three.”
“We’ll start with one and see how it goes.”
“I don’t think biology cares about how many you want at one time, but OK. Let’s just try for one.” I pull her in for another kiss, this one deeper, hungrier. She responds immediately, her body melting into mine as I roll her beneath me.
For years, all I did was exist. I was drifting from town to town, never staying, never belonging. Sure, I had homes here and there. But there were a lot of nights spent sleeping in barns and abandoned buildings, stealing food when I had to, always alone. Always moving.
Back then, there was an emptiness. A bone-deep loneliness that I pretended didn’t exist. The nights I’d shift into my fox form just so I wouldn’t have to be human—wouldn’t have to face what I was to this world.
A ghost. A shadow. A loser. Nothing.
And then I saw that article about foxes becoming pets. And that led me to making the crazy decision that led me to this house. Led me into her life. And everything changed for the better.
I didn’t just find her. I found a reason to stop running. A reason to believe I could be more than the sum of my survival instincts.
She saw me, hated me a little bit, but then she saw how hot I am and couldn’t resist my charm. She chose me. And I chose her. And together, we found our home with Bea—the best crazy decision any of us has made.
Beneath me, Tabitha cries out softly, her body trembling as she comes apart in my arms. I follow her over the edge, burying my face in her neck, holding her like she’s the only solid thing in the universe.
Because she is.
She’s my anchor. My home. My everything.
As we lie tangled together in the aftermath, her heartbeat slowing against my chest, I realize that for the first time in my existence, I’m genuinely happy. And that’s because I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Home.