Chapter Nineteen #3
"Three of them," I continued, the information becoming clearer as I focused. "Female. Male. Young one. Moving north. Following game trails."
I felt the moment Rooster processed what this might mean—what I might have just discovered after fifteen years of believing I was the only lynx shifter to survive wherever I had come from.
His large hand came up to rest against my heart, a grounding touch we'd established months ago. "Do you want to find them?" he asked, no hesitation in his voice despite what it might mean for us. "We could cross the river, track them. Tonight, if you want."
I turned in his arms, looking up at his face illuminated by the rising moon. His fiery beard caught the silver light, his eyes steady on mine, filled with nothing but support.
I reached up to touch his cheek, marveling at how far we'd come—from the cook who left food on a picnic table to the mate who would cross rivers in the night if I asked it of him.
"Tomorrow," I decided. "Tonight is ours."
Relief and love pulsed through our bond, but Rooster was careful not to let it show too clearly on his face. Always balancing his needs with mine, never wanting me to feel pressured by his emotions.
"Whatever you want, baby boy," he said. "Whatever you decide, I'm with you. If they're your blood family, if you want to meet them—"
"Even if they are," I interrupted, the words coming more easily than I would have thought possible months ago, "this is my home now. You are my family."
His eyes softened, the love there so naked and raw that three months ago I would have looked away, unable to bear the intensity. Now I held his gaze, letting him see that I meant every word.
I took his hand and led him away from the riverbank to the center of a small clearing ringed by ancient oak trees. The grass here was soft beneath our feet, illuminated by patches of moonlight filtering through the canopy above.
As we stood together in the clearing, I felt the plants around us responding to my presence—leaves turning toward me despite the lack of sunlight, grass blades bending slightly in our direction, wildflowers releasing extra perfume into the night air.
"They know you," Rooster observed, watching the subtle movements of vegetation around us.
I nodded. "I've been working with them. Since the security redesign."
The plants hadn't just been warning systems or food sources in my design. They had been communication networks, living sensors that could tell me more about potential threats than any camera system.
What I hadn't told Butch when proposing the design was how deeply personal the connection was—how each plant I'd helped place and nurture had become an extension of myself, a thread in the protective web I'd woven around my new family.
"Whatever you find across that river," Rooster said quietly, "whatever part of your past might be waiting there—remember that you'll never have to face it alone again."
The evening breeze picked up slightly, rustling through the surrounding trees in what almost sounded like whispered agreement. I stood perfectly still, absorbing both Rooster's promise and nature's response.
For fifteen years, I'd survived by listening when others didn't, by noticing what others overlooked. Now that same ability had possibly located my blood relatives, offering answers to questions I'd long ago stopped asking.
I felt no panic at the prospect, no urge to run either toward or away from this discovery. Instead, I felt something I'd never expected to feel again after being abandoned at that bus station fifteen years ago: curiosity unmarred by fear.
Rooster's arms encircled me from behind again, his chin resting on top of my head.
I turned within the circle of his embrace, meeting his gaze directly.
The moonlight caught in his fiery beard, turning the copper strands to silver and gold.
His eyes were steady on mine, patient and loving and completely present.
Three months ago, I had written those words to him: I choose you. Then, they had been a milestone—the first real connection I'd allowed myself in fifteen years of isolation. Now, I had words to match those feelings, words that had been buried beneath trauma and fear for too long.
"I love you," I said clearly, the declaration falling from my lips without hesitation or roughness. Three simple words, spoken completely and confidently for the first time.
Rooster's breath caught, his eyes widening slightly. He'd heard variations of this—had felt it through our bond, had seen it in my actions, had read it in my written notes. But hearing it spoken, declared aloud without prompting or hesitation, was something different entirely.
"I love you too, Liam," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I ever thought possible."
We stood together in that clearing as true night settled around us, our silhouettes merging into one shape against the backdrop of the rising moon.
Behind us, the celebration continued at the pavilion. Across the river, potential answers waited to be discovered. But here, in this moment, was everything that mattered—the security I'd found, the voice I'd reclaimed, and the mate who had waited patiently through it all.
The plants whispered around us in their ancient language, bearing witness to what had grown between us—something as natural and unstoppable as their own reaching toward the light.
I had spent fifteen years communing with the natural world while avoiding the human one. Now, finally, I had found my place in both.
~ The End ~