Chapter 7
Aspen
“I’m going running,” I announced.
“In this cold weather?”
“In my shifted form. This is the perfect weather for a reindeer. Did you know we have an extra layer of fur that generates heat? And our hooves are protected by that same coating.”
“I’d love to see your reindeer,” Dale said.
I grimaced. “I have to shift first, though.”
“Right.”
“It means being naked.”
“I—I didn’t remember that part. You can do it privately, but then can I look?”
“He’s a shy one. He might run.”
“It’s okay, then.” Dale sat back against the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table.
“No, it’s fine. No human has ever asked me before.”
“Is shifting a private thing, then?”
“Pretty much. Unless you’re doing a group shift or a family shift. And even then, we have certain areas with changing tents.”
“Like cabanas at a pool?” Dale asked.
“I guess. I usually go to the woods alone.”
“Where do you keep your clothes?”
“I pick a rock or something I can easily identify, then pile my clothes in a bag behind it.”
“That’s smart.”
“Here, I’ll just leave them on the porch.” It was fairly private. The next cabin closest to us was down another path and obscured by thick pine trees.
Dale nodded.
I went to the door and opened it. “It will only take a minute for me to undress and shift. I’ll stand out front until you open the door.”
“Are you sure? I didn’t mean to be pushy.”
“I’m sure.”
I went outside, breathing in the sharp air. Quickly, I undressed. In my human form, I was already shivering. My reindeer form would counteract that shock in seconds. I shut my eyes and focused on the beast within.
It’s time. You’re free.
I opened my eyes to a blur of white. The sensation of shifting was like entering a warm bath, both relaxing and exhilarating.
Next I knew, I stood on four legs on the wooden porch. I leaped down the steps and onto the walkway, then shuffled into the snow.
I turned my head at the sound of the front door opening.
Dale came out. To my reindeer self, he was familiar, but human. Someone to be wary of.
Dale took a slow step forward. My reindeer braced himself.
“You’re beautiful, Aspen.”
My ears quirked forward. Even knee-high in snow, my body was already warm, but my inner body warmed even more at Dale’s compliment.
“The snow, the pines, the cabins and you. What a gift,” he said softly.
Maybe he thought I didn’t hear him. But reindeer hearing was excellent. I pawed at the snow, then braced my hind muscles and took off into the woods.
It was an excellent day for my reindeer. He needed to stretch his muscles. The snow-covered branches of the trees rushed by me as I ran. Sometimes my body brushed them, and the snow scattered everywhere.
As I let my reindeer take over all decisions about where to go and how fast, I had alone time to think about the last two days.
Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. That day always filled me up with gratitude to be here on Earth, healthy and content.
I wasn’t exactly happy, at least not often, but I was content. That counted for a lot.
But one thing I realized in the past two days after meeting Dale—I was lonely.
I hadn’t let myself think about that much.
I’d dated in college, but nothing serious.
Even when my family ribbed me about being single, I blocked it all off.
I was career focused. I enjoyed being a newbie lawyer.
I’d convinced myself everything was fine.
But now, with Dale sharing the cabin, and a bed, I realized it was nice to have someone else around.
Our personalities were well-matched. I had thought he might be intrusive, but the opposite had happened.
Any time I had a question, or brought up a subject, he responded eagerly.
I sensed it wasn’t him merely being polite.
The energy he put off showed authentic interest. And kindness.
Why was an alpha like that still single? There had to be a catch. Maybe he had some deep dark secret. A nasty temper. A cheating heart. Or bodies buried in his backyard.
My reindeer huffed at my thoughts. We were one, but he still had his own unique input. He projected mostly emotion. Didn’t talk much. Right now, his state of mind was actually happy. He kicked up his hind legs. Words came floating through my brain.
Dale. No fear. Pretty.
But one thing held me back. Dale was human. If anything more developed between us, there wouldn’t be much companionship for my beast.
My own dreamy thoughts shocked me. I couldn’t believe I was thinking such things.
Maybe my heat was coming on. I didn’t feel any pre-heat symptoms, but that had to be the answer. Because I wasn’t looking for any alphas on this vacation. Nope. Not at all.
This was supposed to be for rest and relaxation only.
My reindeer grunted, shaking his shoulders, kicking snow and finally slowing down.
We’d come to a clearing. Golden bars of sunlight poked through the trees, turning the scene into a fairy tale.
Snow lay in soft, ice cream swells before us.
It didn’t look real. Winter birds flitted in the trees in little sparks of movement.
They made soft peeps. A rabbit, non-shifter, sauntered across the snow and into a nearby bush.
Silently, we watched and listened. I was waiting for fairies to appear. My beast simply loved the natural, untouched wonder. He moved forward, finding a fallen log and sniffing it out. He nibbled on a bit of green lichen he found.
After, a while, we walked further on. He tossed his head. He still had the full set of antlers, not yet shed. It wasn’t rare for shifters to keep their antlers year-round, but sometimes in the early fall they did drop away for the males, only to start growing new ones again.
It seemed like we’d been out for hours. I nudged him to turn back. On the way, we saw a couple of bear shifters and another rabbit. As beasts in the wood, we avoided each other. It was our way. Even among my own kind. If I’d seen another reindeer, I would have given him space.
By the time I got back to the porch, the sun was low. Gray smoke swirled from the chimney, smelling of cozy warmth. The windows had a yellow glow.
At the front steps, I shifted back to human. Immediately, the cold air hit me like a slap. I ran up the steps before my feet froze on the walkway. I went to the bench and grabbed up my sweater. Beside it was a fleecy blanket, neatly folded.
I hadn’t put that there.
I glanced up. It had to have been Dale.
My eyes warmed at the thoughtful gesture. Quickly, I pulled on my sweats and sweater and wrapped the blanket about my shoulders. The warmth of it felt like a hug.
I grabbed my phone from my pocket and unlocked the door. As I walked in, I saw a lovely, serene setting. Dale sat on the couch watching something on his tablet. The fire from the hearth danced against the tawny highlights of his hair. The air smelled of the fire and hot cocoa.
There was an open box of chocolate chip cookies on the couch next to Dale. He turned his head. “Hi. There’s cocoa on the hot plate still warm.”
“Hi. Thanks for the blanket.”
“It’s pretty cold to be disrobing out there.” He smiled.
If I’d been by myself, I would have walked into a cold, dark room, no greeting, no blanket.
“Yeah, my feet nearly froze walking up the porch steps.” I let the blanket drop at the foot of the bed before walking to the table that held the hot plate, coffee maker and other drinks. I found my Santa mug, freshly washed, and poured cocoa into it. Then I walked toward the couch and sat.
“Your reindeer is magnificent,” Dale said, setting his tablet aside. “Thank you for the glimpse.”
“It was a good run.”
“See anything good out there?”
“Yeah. There was this beautiful clearing—” I began to describe the glade in all its glorious detail.
Dale gave me all his attention, listening as if truly interested. As I talked, I fell into the comfortable coziness of our shared cabin. Everything was perfect.