by D. M. Turner
She sighed then looked back at her mother. “I’m glad you told me everything. Knowing the truth doesn’t take away the pain though.”
“No, it doesn’t. The pain doesn’t go away, no matter what.” She squeezed Alison’s hand, released her, and got to her feet. “Just keep in mind that what’s happened is not your fault. Nothing you did or didn’t do caused the death of your child. You’re not to blame. No matter how much the dark moon tries to tell you otherwise.”
Tears filling her eyes, Alison nodded.
“I better get back to the house. Your father will expect lunch soon.” She leaned down and kissed her daughter on top of the head. “If you need to talk again, don’t hesitate to come see me.”
Another nod.
Felicity left, closing the door quietly in her wake.
A cold draft swept through the cabin. Ian frowned. The fire needed feeding. “I better toss a log or two on that fire. Be right back.” He released his wife and left the bed to take care of it. Right then wasn’t the time to allow the cabin to get cold.
When he returned, Alison had curled up on her side, facing his side of the bed. He lay down and faced her, gently brushing hair away from her cheek with a caress of one finger.
“I want to try again.”
“Are you sure? We can wait a while.”
“You deserve children, Ian. You’d be a good father.”
He scowled. “No. Don’t do it because of me.” He scooted closer and pulled her into his arms. “As long as I have you, mo chridhe, nothing else matters.”
Alison lifted her head and tilted it to study his face. “What did you call me?”
Ian smiled. “Mo chridhe.”
A puzzled frown furrowed her brow. “I’ve never heard you use that before. What does it mean?”
He laid a hand against her cheek and steadily met her gaze. “My heart.”
Tears glistened in her eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. More than I ever imagined possible. You truly are my heart.”
“When my next heat comes, we’ll try again. I want to hold your child in my arms and watch him or her grow up.”
“Are you absolutely certain?” He frowned.
She nodded. “No doubt in my mind.”
* * *
Home of Ian & Alison Campbell
Saturday, March 5, 1988
They’d been in the new house for almost a year, and ongoing construction on the bedroom wing at the other end of the house would continue for a few months yet. Thankfully, the crew didn’t work on weekends, or Ian would’ve had to chase them out. The last thing Alison needed at the moment was all the noise associated with construction.
Ian paced to the windows overlooking the night-darkened backyard again, unable to sit still. His stomach had wrapped around his throat, threatening to cut off his air supply. He could only handle the sight of his wife in pain for so long before he needed to walk a bit. Not that he could go far without leaving the room.
Alison had faced the loss of their son without him at her side. He wouldn’t let her go through that again. She’d gone into labor the day after the full moon, a couple of weeks ahead of schedule. The sky had begun to lighten, so morning would come soon. How much longer would she endure labor?
A loud groan pulled him back to the bed.
“Alright, sweetheart.” Felicity met her daughter’s gaze. “On the next contraction, push. Ian, can you get behind and support her?”
“Of course.” He helped Alison sit partway upright and eased in behind her to let her rest against him. He brushed a hand over her sweat-drenched brow and kissed the top of her head. “You’re doing great, mo chridhe.”
“If you were lying where I am, you wouldn’t use the word great right now.” She panted. “Here it comes.” In moments, tension overtook her entire body, making him wince.
Lord, I don’t know how women handle this. The hours keep coming, and the pain is relentless.
Minutes later, the baby slid into Felicity’s waiting hands.
Ian froze.
Alison panted, and anxiety made her tremble.
He smelled fear on both of them. Had they lost another delicate life? Please, Lord, let this one be okay. Please!
Long seconds passed as they scarcely breathed, then a long wail shattered the silence. Relief coursed through Ian.
Alison started to cry.
He folded his arms around her, hugging her close.
Felicity smiled big and laid the screaming infant on Alison’s chest. “You have a strong, healthy son.”
The impossibly tiny human form was red and wrinkled, which Ian hoped was normal. A shock of fine dark brown hair coated the infant’s head, the same as Alison’s.
Ian caressed it and smiled. “He’s got your hair color.”
Cries died down, and the baby settled against Alison, his head resting over her heart.
“Have you two thought of a name?”
“Colin.” Alison’s voice was strong and certain.
Ian leaned around enough to look into her tired, smiling face.
Her smile widened. “It’s both Scottish and Irish, and I think it’ll suit him.”
Felicity clasped her hands in front of her. “Colin. It means young cub. How appropriate. I like that.”
Alison gasped and tensed. Another contraction hit.
“Ian, we have to finish up here. Why don’t you take Colin out to meet his grandfather? I’m sure Brady’s ready to climb the walls.” She picked up the infant and wrapped him in a thick blanket. Then she offered him to Ian.
After one last kiss to his wife’s temple, he slipped out from behind her, gently accepted the tiny bundle from his mother-in-law, and left the room.
Brady paced the large living room but turned when Ian opened the door of the master bedroom.
He grinned at his alpha. “I have someone who wants to meet you.” He turned so Brady could see the infant’s face. “Colin, this is your grandfather.”
Squinty eyes peered up at them, then the baby yawned and closed his eyes.
Brady chuckled. “He looks as exhausted as I feel.”
“Tell me about it. I feel like I could sleep for a week.” Ian shook his head. “I’ll never look at women as the weaker sex again, let me tell you.”
“Alison had a head of hair like that when she was born.” Brady cocked his head and reached out to gently touch Colin’s head. “Do you suppose Colin will be a brown wolf like her?”
“Maybe. Time will tell, I suppose.” He wouldn’t even consider the possibility that Colin wouldn’t survive the first Shift. He would survive and grow and thrive. Ian couldn’t consider any other outcome. Please, Lord, help him grow into adulthood strong. Help me raise him to be a better man than I’ve ever been.
The bedroom door opened again. “Ian?”
He turned to Felicity.
“You can join your mate now. She wants to see you and Colin.” She closed the distance to her husband and walked into his arms, cuddling close. “Brady and I are going home. If either of you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Ian nodded. “Thanks.” He headed for the bedroom, knowing Brady and Felicity would let themselves out.
Alison’s closed eyes and level breathing made him smile. She needed rest more than any of them.
He rolled the bassinet close to the bed as quietly as he could then sat on the edge of the bed, not quite ready to release his hold on his son. He’s so beautiful. Màthair, athair, I wish you could see this. His parents were long-dead though.
“How is he?”
He smiled into his weary wife’s relaxed face. “As exhausted as his mother, I’d wager.” He tilted Colin so she could see his face. “The red and wrinkled look will go away, right?”
She chuckled. “Yes, that’ll go away soon.”
“Good. If not, I was sure gonna feel sorry for the poor kid.” He grinned.
“You’re so goofy sometimes.”
“Only with you.” He repositioned
the infant in his arms and leaned over to kiss his wife. “By the way, it’s now official.”
“What is?”
“I could never have survived what you just went through. You’re definitely tougher than me.”
“And don’t you forget it, buster.” A teasing smile brightened her entire face then she sighed, a soft sound of contentment. Her eyes closed, and her breathing leveled off again.
Ian leaned against the headboard and cradled his new son close. Contentment relaxed him. All was right in the world. At least, his small part of it.
1990: Becoming
Home of Ian Campbell, Pack Alpha
Campbell Wildlife Preserve
Outside Flagstaff, Arizona
Sunday, April 30, 2017
“SORRY I’M LATE.” Tanya breezed into Ian’s office. “Duncan decided to pee all over me just as I was walking out the door, so I had to change him and then change my clothes. Are you sure about this cloth diaper thing?”
Ian chuckled. “Definitely. They’re kinder to the environment.”
“Maybe so, but they certainly aren’t kinder to me.”
Brett shifted in the chair beside the desk, tucking his feet underneath.
Tanya smiled at him and dropped into the chair they’d brought in from the living room.
Ian pivoted his chair to face her. “What I’m sharing with you today is more difficult than anything else has been, and I have some... gaps in my memory. Brett’s here to fill those in. He was here for all of it, and I trust him to share what he knows, no matter how bad it may make me appear.”
Tanya frowned. “Nobody can make you look bad to me.”
“It’s alright if it happens. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, pushed into them by circumstances or not. You know what I did in Germany. What’s left to tell is even less pleasant in some ways.”
She nodded, flipped open the spiral-bound notebook in her lap, and clicked her pen. A sympathetic smile softened her face. “Whenever you’re ready.”
He wished he deserved sympathy. She’d feel differently by the time all was told, but it needed to be shared.
* * *
Home of Ian & Alison Campbell
Tuesday, February 20, 1990
“I’m glad you made it safely. The roads must be treacherous.” Ian frowned and leaned back in the chair at his desk, wincing at the squeal of protest it emitted. He really needed to buy a new one, preferably one that wouldn’t shriek like a dying goose every time he moved.
Brett sprawled in the upholstered chair Ian kept in the corner for reading. “It wasn’t too bad, but I suspect it’ll be worse in short order. More snow is coming down, and the roads may be impassable by this evening.”
“Good thing we have all those extra bedrooms then, eh?”
“Amen. I’ll just crash here tonight. School’s closed today, and probably will be tomorrow.”
“Class going any better?”
“With the professors I have? No. I can’t believe some of the things they don’t know but pretend to be experts on. There are times I almost wish I was as ignorant as the rest of the students, then I wouldn’t know when these guys are winging it and making up crap.” He shook his head. “Some of the reference material they recommend to students is so poorly researched, it’s ridiculous. I—” He stilled, his gaze on the door between the office and the hall. Then he chuckled and covered his mouth with one hand. “You have a visitor.”
The chair cried out as Ian turned to face the door and quickly surmised what his friend found so amusing.
Colin toddled in, encased from head to feet in a thick, white, down-filled snowsuit. The almost-two-year-old couldn’t even put his hands to his sides. His arms couldn’t be lowered that far. Little blue mittens encased his small hands, and thick black boots covered his feet.
Ian chuckled and picked him up, pulling him into his lap. “Ah, buddy, what’d your mother do to you?”
A wide smile brightened the small face peering through the white hood. “Snow!”
“You’re going outside the play, huh?”
The little head bobbed, as much as it could in its enclosure.
“There you are.” Alison entered the room and set her hands on her hips. “I turned around to grab my coat, and he disappeared.”
Brett snorted. “Dressed like that, he might disappear anyway once he gets into the snow. If he falls over, he won’t be able to get back up.”
“I think he looks cute.” She pinned him with an annoyed glance.
He lowered his gaze. His lips flattened into a thin line but twitched suspiciously.
“He can’t bend his arms or legs.” Ian set the toddler on the floor. “Brett’s right. Colin will be a helpless turtle if he falls over.”
“I’ll be with him.” Alison shook her head then picked up their son. “He’ll be just fine, and best of all, he’ll be warm.”
“Whatever you say, mo chridhe. You know best.”
A smile warmed her face, and she leaned down to reward him with a kiss that left him breathless. “I’m glad you see it my way.”
“Of course, my heart. How else could I see it?” He lightly touched her cheek.
“How, indeed.” She chuckled, straightened, and headed for the door. “We’ll be out back for a little while.”
“Don’t lose the poor kid in the snow!” Brett grinned but wisely kept his gaze averted from the doorway.
Alison huffed a sigh, shook her head, and kept going.
Ian waited until he heard the back door open and close. Then he grinned at his friend. “If the Michelin man had a kid....”
“I don’t know. I was thinking more along the lines of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters.”
They laughed.
“Now.” Ian shook his head and chuckled. “What were we talking about before?”
“Uh, let’s see... idiot professors, and students too ignorant to have a clue about it.” Brett rolled his eyes.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll be able to correct that, if you go into teaching like you plan.”
“Maybe. I can hope and dream.”
Several minutes later, a scream ripped through the house, muffled by walls and windows but clearly coming from outside.
Ian’s chair slammed against the desk as he jumped to his feet and ran out the door, down the hallway, through the dining room, and into the living room. He hit the back door, which didn’t open fast enough. Glass shattered, peppering the snow-covered deck, but he paid it no heed. He halted on the back deck and scanned the meadow behind the house. Snow had been compacted down in a variety of areas, probably by Colin and Alison playing. Where are they? “Alison!”
Colin’s traumatized, high-pitched cries pulled Ian’s gaze to the farthest point from the house, just short of the tree line. Alison was nowhere to be seen, but snarls reached across the distance. Snarls that were far too feline in nature to be his mate.
Ian ripped off his shirt, tossed it aside, and launched off the porch, Shifting into the wolf before his feet hit the ground. He paused only long enough to wiggle free of pants and underwear before he rushed across the meadow.
As he reached the trees, his heart leapt into his throat. Still in human form, Alison fought with a large mountain lion. Blood splattered the ground, trees, and underbrush, but the cat looked uninjured. His mate crumpled into the snow. He vaulted over her and hit the cat. Growls on the other side of the snarling animal assured him Brett had joined in.
In moments, the two of them had the cat down. Brett had a death grip on the cat’s throat. Blood poured around his teeth onto the ground. Ian released the barely struggling animal and turned to his mate. He ran to her side, returning to human form and dropping to his knees at her side, ignoring the bite of snow and ice on bare skin.
Alison struggled to breathe, her head, throat, and torso bleeding profusely through the thick down coat she’d put on earlier. Too much damage.
Oh, God, please, help her! He pulled her into his arms. “Mo ch
ridhe, stay with me!”
Bright blue eyes opened and gazed up at him. Dazed shock along with her pallor underneath all the blood twisted his stomach.
“It tried to take Colin.”
“You stopped it. I heard him crying.” He glanced up and around.
Brett stood next to a tree a few feet away, his skin turning blue in the cold.
Colin whimpered in his arms. Part of his snowsuit had been shredded.
His friend nodded. “He’s alright. Scared, but he appears unhurt.”
“Did you hear that? He’s okay. Colin’s fine.”
“Promise me you’ll take care of him.”
“I will, and you’re gonna be right here, helping me do it.” A knot lodged in his throat.
“No.” She grimaced, and her breath caught for a moment. She swallowed, growing weaker even as he clung to her. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, more than my own life. Stay with me. Please!”
Alison stared up at him for a moment as though she wanted to say something more, then life disappeared and her blue eyes lost focus.
“No! Alison!”
Colin began to cry again, but Ian tuned him out. He was in safe hands.
Tears filling his eyes and finding release, he shook his wife. “Alison! No! We need you!”
* * *
Brett shivered only feet from the worst sight he’d ever witnessed, clinging to a wailing, frightened toddler who had just lost his mother but had no understanding of that. He’d seen Ian wounded and broken before when he’d lost his wife-to-be in Germany forty-five years before, but his friend had never been as shattered as he was in that moment. Battling tears of his own and helpless to help Ian, he tried to comfort Colin, hugging him close and rocking him.
