Chapter 38
Chapter
Thirty-Eight
Laney stepped over the threshold into the small cabin. Max dropped their bags on a worn wooden bench by the door. He moved to check the fireplace, and Laney drifted into the small kitchen, inspecting the supplies. A sturdy table stood in the center. Cabinets displayed mugs, plates, and cooking utensils. A faded rug covered part of the floor, and the scent of cedar lingered from the timber walls.
“Are you hungry?” Max asked, coming up behind her. “I already stocked the fridge.”
Laney nodded, grateful for the distraction of a practical task. “I'm starving, actually.”
Max opened the refrigerator, pulling out ingredients. “How about pasta? Simple but filling.”
“Perfect,” Laney said, already rolling up her sleeves. “I’ll help.”
Max pulled out a cutting board and began chopping onions and garlic while Laney rummaged through cabinets for pots and utensils. They worked side by side, shoulders occasionally bumping in the cramped space. Max browned ground beef in a pan while Laney chopped mushrooms and bell peppers. The sizzle of meat and the aroma of garlic filled the small kitchen.
“Could you hand me the oregano?” Max asked, stirring the meat.
Laney found the spice jar and passed it to him, feeling a strange sense of belonging in this simple act of cooking together. She added tomatoes to the pan, watching as Max incorporated them into the sauce.
“My mom taught me this recipe,” Max said as he stirred. “She always said good food could solve almost any problem.”
“Was she right?” Laney asked, leaning against the counter.
“Usually,” he replied with a soft smile. “Though some problems need more than just a good meal.”
Laney nodded, thinking of her own troubles. No amount of pasta sauce could fix those, but being here with Max somehow made them feel less overwhelming. She set water to boil for the pasta, then began washing and tearing lettuce leaves for a salad. The repetitive motion was soothing, giving her hands something to do while her mind settled.
“You're good at this,” Max commented, watching her efficient movements.
“I like cooking,” Laney admitted. “It's predictable. Follow the steps, get the expected result.”
“Unlike town councils,” Max said gently.
Laney's hands stilled for a moment. “Unlike a lot of things.”
Max moved behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I'm sorry about what happened.”
“It's not your fault,” she said, leaning back slightly against his solid chest. “I should have known better than to hope they'd listen.”
“They should have,” Max said firmly. “And eventually, they’ll have to.”
When the pasta was ready, Laney drained it while Max finished the sauce. Together, they assembled their plates and carried everything to the small kitchen table. Max lit a candle and placed it between them. Laney twirled pasta onto her fork, savoring the rich flavor. Something had been building inside her since they arrived, something she needed to share.
“My father could have given me the changing bite,” she said suddenly. “When I was younger.”
Max looked up, his expression attentive but careful. “Why didn't he?”
Laney traced the rim of her wine glass with her finger. “He said it wasn't necessary. That I should accept being a half-shifter, that it was what nature intended.” She paused, old pain resurfacing. “But I think he was afraid it wouldn't work. That I'd be disappointed, or worse, that I'd be hurt by trying.”
“Do you believe that?” Max asked.
“Sometimes,” Laney admitted. “Other times, I think he just didn't want to bother. My siblings could all shift naturally. I was the anomaly, the one who needed extra help.” She took a sip of wine. “I begged him once, when I was sixteen. My brother and sister were always shifting, going on runs together. I felt so left out.”
“What happened?”
“He got angry. Said I was ungrateful, that many humans would kill to have even the connection to their animal that I had.” Laney blinked back unexpected tears. “After that, I stopped asking. I threw myself into science instead.”
Max reached across the table, taking her hand. “I'm sorry you went through that.”
“I'm scared, Max,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “After all these years of wanting it, I'm terrified it won't work, or that it'll hurt, or that I'll somehow disappoint you.”
“You could never disappoint me,” Max said firmly. “And you should know, I can give you the changing bite at the same time as when I claim you as my mate. But there's no rush, Laney. You can let your fox come out tonight, or another time. When you're ready.” His thumb traced circles on her palm. “This isn't about me, or some idea of what a mate should be. It's about what you want, when you want it.”
Laney met his gaze, seeing nothing but sincerity and love. “Thank you,” she said.
After dinner, they cleared the plates together. Max washed while Laney dried, their movements in perfect harmony.
“How about some hot chocolate?” Max suggested after they were done. “With a little extra something to warm us up?”
Laney smiled. “That sounds good.”
Max prepared their drinks while Laney moved to stoke the fire. The flames leapt higher, casting a warm glow throughout the cabin. She settled on the sofa, pulling a knitted throw blanket over her legs.
Max joined her moments later, carrying two steaming mugs. “Hot chocolate with a splash of whiskey,” he said, handing one to her. “My dad's favorite winter remedy.”
Laney took a careful sip, feeling the rich chocolate followed by the warming burn of the alcohol. “Your dad is a wise man.”
Max chuckled, sitting beside her. He lifted his arm, and Laney naturally curled against his side, her head finding the perfect spot on his shoulder. The fire crackled before them, shadows dancing on the wooden walls.
“This is nice,” she murmured. “Being away from everything.”
“I know,” Max agreed. “Sometimes you need to step back to see things clearly.”
They sipped their drinks, watching the flames. Laney felt a sense of peace she hadn't experienced in a long time. Here, with Max, away from the judgments and expectations of others, she could simply be.
The wind picked up outside, causing the cabin to creak. The sound only enhanced the coziness of their shelter, reminding them of the wilderness beyond their warm haven. Laney set her empty mug on the coffee table, then turned to face Max. Her heart pounded, but not from fear or anxiety. This time, it was anticipation.
“Max,” she said, her voice steady. “I'm ready.”
He set his mug down too, his eyes never leaving hers. “Ready?”
“To be your mate,” she replied. “To let you help me fully realize my inner fox. I don't want to wait anymore.”
Max cupped her face gently. “Are you sure? We have all the time in the world.”
Laney nodded, covering his hand with her own. “I've waited long enough. I want this. I want you.”
The fire cast a golden glow over them as Max took her hand. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too,” Laney replied, closing her eyes. “Help me become whole.”