Chapter 10
“A little to the left,” Milo directed, head tilted critically. “No, your left. That’s your right. Humans and directional confusion, I swear.”
I adjusted the framed vintage comic poster, shooting him an exasperated look over my shoulder. “Says the wolf who regularly gets lost between the storeroom and the register.”
“That’s different,” he insisted. “The store has too many smell-confusing things. This is just basic directions.”
“Remind me never to let you navigate on a road trip,” I muttered, finally getting the frame level.
Two months into our relationship, and Milo had practically moved into my apartment above the store.
It had happened gradually—a toothbrush appearing in my bathroom, clothes migrating to my dresser, his favorite mug taking permanent residence beside the coffee maker he was finally learning to operate without disaster.
The latest development was what Milo called “proper den establishment”—rearranging furniture, adding more comfortable seating options, and hanging art that appealed to both of us. Hence the Saturday afternoon spent mounting posters and shelves under his very particular direction.
“Perfect,” he declared as I secured the final screw. “Now it feels right.”
I stepped back to survey our work. The living room had transformed significantly under Milo’s influence.
More pillows and throws adorned the furniture, creating cozy nooks for reading.
A corner now housed what he called a “human-appropriate nest”—essentially a large floor cushion surrounded by smaller pillows and blankets.
The walls, once sparsely decorated, now displayed a thoughtful arrangement of art and memorabilia.
“You know,” I observed, “for someone who claims to be new to human living, you have surprisingly strong interior design opinions.”
He shrugged, looking pleased. “Wolves understand the importance of comfortable dens. We just adapt it to human aesthetics.”
“Well, it looks good,” I admitted, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Feels more like home now.”
He leaned into me, a contented sound rumbling in his chest. “That’s the idea. Our territory should reflect both of us.”
“Our territory,” I repeated, enjoying the way the phrase felt. “I like that.”
Milo’s integration into my life had been surprisingly seamless.
At the store, he’d become a genuine asset, his encyclopedic knowledge of comics and enthusiastic customer service compensating for his occasional clumsiness.
At home, his presence had turned my once-orderly apartment into something warmer and more lived-in.
The only recurring challenge was the full moon. Milo still spent those nights with his pack, maintaining important bonds while helping younger shifters navigate their transformations. I’d offered to join him, curious about this other side of his life, but he’d been hesitant.
“Pack dynamics are complicated,” he’d explained. “Bringing a human to full moon gatherings is… significant. It would mean certain things to them.”
“What things?” I’d pressed.
“Important things,” he’d said vaguely. “Commitment things. Let’s just say it would be like meeting the parents, but with more ritual significance and potential for ceremonial challenges.”
I hadn’t pushed further, understanding his need to maintain separation between his worlds until he was ready to bridge them completely.
Now, surveying our newly arranged living space, I wondered if we were approaching that readiness faster than either of us had anticipated.
“What are you thinking about?” Milo asked, noticing my contemplative expression. “Your scent just changed.”
I smiled, still not entirely used to his olfactory insights. “Just thinking about how much has changed. In a good way.”
He studied my face, those amber eyes missing nothing. “You’re not just thinking about the apartment.”
“No,” I admitted. “I was thinking about us. How well this is working, despite the complications.”
“By complications, you mean the fact that I turn into a wolf three nights a month and occasionally knock over display stands because I get excited about new Batman issues?”
“Those complications, yes,” I laughed, pulling him closer. “And they’re not really complications. They’re just… you. And I happen to like you quite a lot.”
His smile softened. “I like you quite a lot too. Even if you’re terrible at following directions and insist on alphabetizing everything.”
“Organization is not a character flaw,” I defended.
“It is when you try to alphabetize the refrigerator contents.”
“That was one time!”
He laughed, the sound still my favorite thing to hear. “Come on, den-builder. I think we’ve earned a break.”
We settled on the couch, Milo immediately curling against my side in a way that reminded me of his wolf form.
Physical closeness came naturally to him—a pack instinct that translated to constant touching, nuzzling, and what he called “scent-marking” but what I recognized as possessiveness.
Not that I minded. There was something deeply satisfying about carrying his scent, just as he carried mine.
“The full moon’s next weekend,” he said after a comfortable silence. “I’ve been thinking…”
“Yes?” I prompted when he hesitated.
“Would you want to come with me? To meet the pack?”
I sat up straighter, surprised by the offer after his previous reluctance. “Are you sure? I thought it was complicated with the ritual significance and potential challenges.”
“It is,” he admitted. “But I’ve been talking with my alpha—my pack leader. She’s curious about you. About us.”
“She?”
He nodded. “Sadie. She’s been alpha for about five years. She’s progressive, which is why she supported my human integration project in the first place.”
“And she wants to meet me?” I tried to imagine what a werewolf pack leader would be like.
“She does. So do my parents.” He looked slightly nervous. “It’s a big step. In pack terms, it means… well, it means I’m serious about you. That I consider you potential mate material.”
My heart did a complicated flip. “Mate material, huh? Is that the wolf equivalent of meeting the parents?”
“More significant,” he said seriously. “Wolves mate for life, Finn. Bringing you to a full moon gathering is basically announcing my intentions to the entire pack.”
The implication settled over me—the depth of what he was offering, what he was declaring to his family and community.
“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” I asked, equally serious.
His eyes met mine, unwavering. “I’ve never been more sure of anything. But if you’re not ready—”
“I’m ready,” I interrupted, surprising myself with how true it felt. “I want to meet your pack. I want to see that part of your life.”
The smile that spread across his face was radiant. “Really? You understand what it means?”
“That you’re serious about us,” I said, taking his hand. “That this isn’t just some temporary human experience for your research.”
“It never was,” he said softly. “Not from the moment you took in a scared wolf during a thunderstorm.”
I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to his in a gesture I’d learned was significant to wolves—an acknowledgment of trust and connection.
“So,” I asked, “what should I expect from this full moon gathering? And more importantly, what should I wear?”
He laughed, tension breaking. “Nothing fancy. Jeans, boots, something warm. We’ll be in the forest clearing. As for what to expect…” He looked thoughtful. “Lots of wolves. Some in human form, most shifted. Probably some ceremonial aspects since you’re being introduced. Maybe a—”
He stopped abruptly, looking slightly embarrassed.
“Maybe a what?” I prompted.
“A claiming ceremony,” he admitted. “It’s traditional when a pack member brings a potential mate. Nothing complicated—just a formal acknowledgment of our connection.”
“Will I need to do anything specific?”
“Just follow my lead,” he assured me. “The main thing is showing respect to Sadie and not challenging any dominant wolves.”
“I think I can manage not to challenge werewolves to duels,” I said dryly. “Anything else?”
He hesitated, then added, “Pack gatherings can get… intense. Especially during the full moon when everyone’s wolf instincts are stronger. There might be hunting, roughhousing, some behaviors that seem wild by human standards.”
“I’m dating you,” I reminded him. “I’m getting used to wild.”
His expression turned mischievous. “Speaking of wild…” He shifted, moving to straddle my lap in one fluid motion. “We’ve done a lot of den-building today. But there’s another important aspect of territory establishment.”
“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow, hands settling naturally on his hips. “And what’s that?”
He leaned closer, lips brushing my ear. “Scent marking. Very thorough scent marking.”
A shiver ran down my spine at his tone. “That sounds like an essential step we shouldn’t skip.”
“Absolutely critical,” he agreed solemnly, though his eyes gleamed with playful desire. “In fact, I think we should start right now.”
His mouth found mine in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened, carrying the promise of much more. My hands slid under his shirt, seeking the warmth of his skin, while his fingers tangled in my hair.
When we broke apart for air, his eyes had that amber glow that appeared when his emotions ran high. “Bedroom?” he suggested, slightly breathless.
“Too far,” I decided, pulling him back for another kiss.
He laughed against my lips, then made a small sound of surprise as I stood, lifting him with me. His legs wrapped around my waist instinctively, arms looping around my neck.
“Show-off,” he accused, though his scent spiked with arousal. “Human strength has its advantages.”
“So does wolf flexibility,” I countered, carrying him to his carefully constructed nest in the corner. “Which I intend to thoroughly appreciate.”