Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CALDER
The air inside the cabin felt different against bare skin.
Every movement carried sensation now—the quiet drift of evening air through the cracked kitchen window. Without fur insulating me from the world, everything reached more easily than before.
Especially him.
His scent engulfed me immediately. Heat, skin, detergent from the borrowed blankets, and beneath all of it something unmistakably Milo that my body had already begun recognizing long before I understood what the recognition meant.
I retreated from the bed slowly, needing to gather my thoughts.
Milo watched the movement carefully.
“This form is easier for you,” I told him, testing the unfamiliar shape of my voice as the words left me. It was lower and rougher around the edges without the deeper resonance of my larger body.
The statement carried more meaning than the words themselves.
If this made him uncomfortable, I would leave.
If it frightened him—
Milo stepped toward me before the thought finished forming.
“Okay,” he said quietly, studying me with open concentration instead of alarm. “Yeah. This is definitely new.”
But he was smiling slightly.
There was no fear in him.
That realization hit somewhere primal and instinctive before I could stop it.
Milo’s attention moved slowly across my face, lingering briefly on details I was still unaccustomed to myself—the altered shape of my jaw, the pale curls falling across my forehead, the eyes that no longer reflected amber in the cabin light.
“You really are beautiful,” he hushed, like the realization surprised him.
Something twisted unexpectedly inside me at the words. Not because of the compliment itself, but because some quiet instinct immediately wondered if this form simply made me easier, more familiar—more human for him to want.
Milo must have seen something change in my expression, because his gaze sharpened almost immediately.
“Hey.” His hand returned to my chest, warm and grounding against bare skin. “That’s not what I meant.”
I stilled beneath the touch.
Milo exhaled softly, like he was trying to find the right words instead of the easiest ones. “You know what I keep thinking?” he asked.
I said nothing.
“The first time I saw you clearly in the woods, I should’ve been terrified.” A faint smile quirked his mouth. “Instead, I couldn’t stop staring at you.”
I… didn’t fully understand the confession.
Milo’s thumb brushed across my skin. “You’re beautiful like this,” he admitted. “But honestly?” His eyes lifted back to mine. “I think your original form might ruin me even more.”
My breath caught unexpectedly.
He grinned then, softer now, less teasing and more certain.
“I mean it, Calder. I liked you before this. I wanted you before this.” His gaze flicked briefly over my face again.
“And if you asked me to choose, I’d still choose the version of you that carried me across the cabin like I weighed nothing and looked at me like I was something worth protecting. ”
The tightness in my chest eased so suddenly it almost felt painful. He admired the form, yes, but he did not need it.
Milo studied me quietly for another second before something else occurred to him. “How often does this happen?” he asked gently. “The shifting.”
The question startled me slightly, though I understood the curiosity behind it. “It has been one hundred and twenty-seven years,” I answered after a moment.
Milo blinked. “One hundred and twenty-seven—” A soft disbelieving laugh escaped him. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
Milo was fully invested now. “What happened?”
I hesitated, not because I wished to hide the answer from him, but because I could still remember exactly how it felt. “Fear,” I admitted. “And grief. Strong enough to disrupt control.”
Milo’s expression softened at once. “And now?”
My gaze held his. “You kissed me.”
Silence settled between us after that.
Warm.
Breathing.
Alive.
And the look Milo gave me afterward felt dangerously close to reverence.
He raised his hand slowly enough that I understood his intention before he touched me. For a brief second, I considered stopping him—not out of fear, but because I still did not fully understand what this body would do in response to contact.
I did not stop him.
His fingertips brushed my cheek lightly.
The sensation lit my skin on fire.
Without fur, there was no barrier between awareness and touch. The heat of his skin spread outward the second contact happened, sinking deeper the longer he maintained it. My body reacted before thought could catch up, every nerve suddenly aware of the exact place his hand rested against me.
Milo felt it.
His expression changed slightly as his thumb feathered along my cheekbone with careful curiosity. “Okay,” he murmured softly, almost to himself. “That’s… a lot more direct.”
I understood exactly what he meant. “This was not intentional. I did not mean to shift.”
His eyes lifted back to mine immediately. “Because of me?”
There was no reason to soften the answer. “Yes.”
The honesty of it affected him visibly. Color rose slowly into his face, a warm shade of pink taking over his cheeks and throat while something gentler moved through his expression.
His hand slid from my face to my chest. The contact landed harder there.
Heat pressed directly against skin and muscle, his palm broad and steady over my heartbeat while my breathing adjusted automatically around the sensation. The reaction felt immediate in this form. Stronger and beyond my control.
Milo noticed at once. “Still okay?”
“Yes.” That answer required no hesitation, because despite the unfamiliarity of the form, despite the overwhelming awareness moving through me with every point of contact, nothing about this felt dangerous.
Not with him.
His fingers spread slowly against my chest, learning instead of merely touching. I tracked every movement instinctively—the warmth of his hand, the gradual pressure, the path his attention followed as curiosity replaced uncertainty.
“This feels different,” he murmured.
“It is different.”
His gaze dropped briefly to where his hand rested against me before raising again, then his other hand joined the first.
One remained against my chest while the other traced lower, following the line of muscle along my abdomen with deliberate slowness. There was no urgency, no apprehension. Just sustained, intentional touch.
I held still, movement itself feeling secondary to the experience of being touched like this.
Everything reached.
Everything stayed.
“You’re warmer than I expected,” Milo said, the words softened by distraction.
“I am not colder in my natural form.”
That earned a quiet laugh from him. “I know,” Milo murmured, his eyes fixed on the place his hand rested against my skin. “I can actually feel your reactions more intensely like this.”
Intensely.
Yes.
That was exactly what unsettled me about it.
His attention remained completely focused on me while he explored the differences between forms, the changes in texture and heat and reaction. There was no caution in him anymore, no waiting for something monstrous to emerge beneath the surface.
Only interest.
Only trust.
“You don’t have to stay like this for me, If it’s harder for you.”
“It is not harder,” I answered truthfully.
Milo studied my face for another quiet second before something in his expression softened further. “Good.”
He stepped back a half pace then, enough to break contact between us.
His hands caught the hem of his shirt before lifting it over his head in one smooth motion, tossing it carelessly toward the nearby chair.
His jeans and underwear followed immediately after, hitting the floor with a near silent sound.
And then he stood naked in front of me. “Feels unfair otherwise.”
My attention fixed on him at once.
Not because human bodies were unfamiliar. I had seen humans unclothed before from a distance.
This was different.
This was Milo.
Warm skin, visible breath, the line of muscle beneath softer human vulnerability.
And lower—
My attention caught there instinctively, and Milo followed it.
Color climbed his throat almost at once. “Oh my God,” he muttered, already laughing softly. “You noticed.”
“I possess functioning vision.”
That startled a laugh fully out of him. “I walked right into that one.”
Milo laughed often when I answered honestly. I still did not fully understand why. I found that I did not mind not understanding.
My eyes stayed at the spot between his thighs, trying to understand the differences between us now that comparison existed directly in front of me. “You are smaller than I am,” I observed honestly. The difference appeared... significant.
Milo made a strangled sound somewhere between embarrassment and disbelief. “Jesus Christ, Calder.”
“It was not criticism.”
“I know, and that somehow makes it worse.”
I frowned slightly. “Why?”
“Because you sound genuinely fascinated.”
“I am.”
That only made him laugh harder.
Again.
Honest answers frequently produced this response. I still did not understand why. But the sound pulled at something deep inside me. Warmth spread visibly across his face now, embarrassment softening into affection beneath the weight of my attention. And still he did not move to cover himself.
If anything, he stepped closer.
“Okay,” he hummed, dragging a hand down his face once. “Ground rules. You cannot say things like that while looking at me like that.”
“How am I looking at you?”
Milo stared at me for a second like he genuinely did not know where to begin. “See, this is what I mean. You ask questions like that completely seriously.”
I frowned slightly. “I was asking seriously.”
“I know. That’s the problem. You look at me like you have no idea what hearing your words do to me.”
I considered that, trying to understand why honesty appeared to affect him so strongly. “I still do not know what response you expected.”
That earned another helpless laugh from him before his expression softened. “You know, most people would pretend not to stare.”
“I do not wish to pretend.”
The honesty transformed the air between us, lingering heavily.
Milo’s breathing slowed. His gaze held mine for a long second before his fingers slid lightly against my chest again, tracing downward with careful curiosity. “And here I thought I was the one getting distracted.”
“I am distracted,” I admitted.
“Good.”
The word came out softer than the teasing before it.
More vulnerable.
My hands returned to him instinctively, falling to his waist before sliding upward again. Human skin changed everything about touch. Heat gathered immediately beneath my palms, every breath and movement felt directly instead of through fur.
Milo leaned into the contact with a quiet exhale. “That,” he murmured, “still feels unfairly good.”
“I am learning quickly.”
“You really are.”
There was no fear now, no hesitation- just warmth and curiosity and want so visible it became impossible to mistake.
My attention moved across him slowly, learning the shape of muscle beneath softer human skin, the rise and fall of his breathing, the reactions each touch pulled from him without permission. Every response taught me something new.
When my fingertips brushed lightly across one of his nipples, Milo inhaled sharply.
“That causes a reaction.”
He dropped his forehead briefly against my shoulder with a groan. “Oh my God.”
“I am incorrect?”
“No, you’re extremely correct, which is currently the problem.”
I understood now. I repeated the touch, more deliberately this time. Milo’s entire body reacted, and the sound he made traveled directly through me.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
“You cannot look pleased with yourself right now,” he informed me, voice thick.
“I was unaware I appeared pleased.”
“You absolutely do.”
He laughed again, softer this time.
The warmth of it lingered between us while my hands continued learning him slowly, carefully, without rushing. Nothing about this felt hurried. Every touch became its own discovery.
His fingers slipped into my hair again while my mouth brushed slowly along the center of his chest.
Milo’s breathing changed immediately.
I understood that response now too.
Approval.
Encouragement.
Desire.
The knowledge settled deeper each time I learned another piece of him.
My mouth worked lower gradually, following the line of his body while his hands tightened faintly in my hair. Heat radiated from him now in steady waves, every reaction growing harder for him to conceal.
When my mouth brushed just beneath his navel, Milo’s breath caught sharply. “Calder—”
My name sounded different in his mouth like this, less controlled.
I glanced up at him. Milo was already watching me with an expression that threatened what remained of my restraint all over again.
Want sat openly across his face now, trust sitting right beside it.
That combination affected me more dangerously than either would have alone.
Slowly I straightened again, and Milo looked up at me immediately, still slightly breathless.
“You’re thinking too hard again,” he murmured.
“I am attempting restraint.”
“Do you want restraint?”
The question landed heavily between us, because the truth arrived instantly.
No.
Not really.
My hands squeezed his waist.
Milo noticed the change immediately.
“So that’s a no,” he said softly.
“No,” I admitted.
Something warm flashed across his face then, almost triumphant beneath the affection. “Good,” he whispered.
Then he kissed me again before I could think myself back into caution.