Chapter Twenty-Two
Sylvia
Shifting with my alphas quickly became my favorite activity. A time when we could freely communicate but also when we could run around and play and have fun.
Last time, we shifted on my brother’s pack lands. This time, we were on theirs, and I was excited to get the grand tour.
Normally, when I shifted with another, we communicated in the way of our beasts. We ran, we jumped, we played. Sure, we’d run a perimeter, but it was based on instinct and understanding what was happening around us, not words.
But while the four of us walked the perimeter, they managed to tell me everything about the land.
Talon pointed out his favorite tree. Archer showed me where they thought they might plant some rose bushes.
Dax showed me the best spot to hunt if I liked rabbit, although he admitted that hunting was not something he was good at.
I wasn’t sure I was either. Those who held me captive didn’t exactly let their unwilling labor go out and have fun. Most of my shifts had been in my windowless room over those years. After I went to my brother’s, hunting took second place to basking in the sun.
I’d been right that Dax’s and my backgrounds were similar in a way.
We’d both lost our parents early on—me through my father’s rejection and my mother’s passing.
Him, he didn’t fully know how. He had flashes from dreams that may or may not have been memories, but since he was a toddler, they were gone, and into the human foster care system he went.
His foster family meant well, but they didn’t understand his shifter side. They didn’t even realize there was one. Instead, they tried to treat him talking to his wolf, the way all young wolves do, as a mental illness. They were doing the best they could in the most harmful way possible.
We’d both been on our own for far too long.
He said the two weren’t comparable, that he’d never been captured. But really, they were. And I hated that for him. I didn’t want anybody to go through the kind of things I did.
What a difference between his and Talon’s upbringing. Talon talked about his parents with such love. They supported him all the way.
Unlike Archer and Dax, who had been friends, Talon came because a seer told him to, saying this was where he was meant to be. That seer had been right. He belonged with us. But he hadn’t known that at the time. He had gone on the seer’s word, demonstrating a kind of bravery most people didn’t have.
Did you want to circle back? That was Archer.
We could play ‘catch the wolfess,’ I teased, knowing full well “wolfess” was not even a word. Before they could reply, I darted off.
There was something hot about being chased. Not when it was real, obviously. I knew what the end of that looked like. But playing like this? It was everything.
I’d gotten pretty good at being able to hide my scent when I needed to—knowing how to use leaves just so, climbing trees when necessary, jumping fairly long distances to give that little break in my scent trail, going in and out of the water on different sides of riverbanks—all of it.
And if I wanted to, I could make this hunt last.
But all of me wanted to get caught.
So I zigzagged and wove through trees, jumped in the water a couple of times, but nothing too intentional. And then, as we reached a clearing, I found myself circled by my fabulous wolves.
I rolled on my back and waited for them to rub my belly with their noses.
Our first time spending the afternoon together, I had petted Dax and thought how great it was that he allowed it because he wasn’t my pet. He was my mate. But now, being on the receiving end of it, I understood why he’d leaned into my touch that day. This was amazing.
We walked the rest of the way home and dressed. It had been the perfect way to spend the afternoon. I was looking forward to doing it again and again.
“What should we do now?” Archer asked.
I shrugged. As long as it wasn’t going home, I was game.
“How about we make some coffee? It’s near three o’clock,” Dax offered.
At first, I thought he was teasing, but then Talon smacked his shoulder. “I don’t know how you do it, man. I need to start my day with coffee, and you end yours that way.”
Dax shrugged.
“I’ll help you, and I’ll make tea, so not everyone here has to be up all night.”
The two of them went inside and left Archer and me alone.
Your pack lands are beautiful.
“No, ours are. Our pack lands are beautiful.”
I reached over and took his hand, remembering our first kiss and wanting another. He must have sensed it, leaning down, brushing his lips against mine—and just like the first time, I felt myself needing more.
I pulled him to me, wrapping my arms around his neck. As I deepened the kiss, he sank into it, and I reached for his shirt. But unlike in my dream, he broke the kiss and took a step back.
“Sylvia, this is what you want?”
I nodded and signed yes over and over again.
“Thank the Goddess,” he said, scooping me up, “because I want this, too.”