by Robin Roseau
A Foxy Valentine
Robin Roseau
Zoe
"Hey, Mom!"
Tingles went through my body every time I heard those words. I turned around and Ember, also known as Daughter Number One, was standing in the kitchen doorway, her school bag over one shoulder. I opened my arms, and she dropped the bag onto the counter and ran to me.
Oh, I loved hugs from Ember; they were almost as good as hugs from Portia. Ember was coming into her own as a woman, which meant she was taller, broader, and a whole lot stronger than I was. She wrapped her arms around me and just enveloped me.
I always knew I'd been hugged after a hug from Ember.
I buried my face against her and breathed in deeply while she held me.
I also loved how she never rushed these hugs, even if there was an audience. Actually, all the wolves were like that with their parents. Apparently if you were a teenage werewolf, it wasn't cool to hate your parents. Ember always let me hold her however long I wanted and seemed quite content with it.
"God, I love you, Ember."
"I love you too, Mom," she said.
We held each other for another minute or two -- that's no exaggeration. But finally we both let go.
"How was school?"
"It was good. There's something I want to talk to you about. But where's the munchkin? I was going to play with her a little bit."
"I'm sorry, honey," I said. "I do not know why I agreed to let Michaela to teach her to shift while she's so young. She shifted into fur and snuck outside. I had the devil of a time catching her, and she found something in the woods to roll in. She positively stinks. Now she refuses to shift back and take a bath. So I borrowed a dog crate and threw her in. She's not coming out until she shifts back."
Ember's eyes opened widely and her jaw dropped. "A dog crate?" Her voice squeaked. Then she caught my expression. "You big liar!"
I grinned and chuckled. "The way you and your mother get me all the time, you were due."
"Good one," she said. "There will be payback."
"I tell you what. If you can find help, you can give me a seven. Think you're up to it?"
I didn't normally ask for runs anymore; the kids were so good about offering them. But I just loved when two of them would take an arm each and start running. The wolves were so amazingly fast. Then they had learned they could scare the crap out of me. We called it a roller coaster ride. We ranked the rides from one -- tame -- to ten -- soil my pants. Given the limitations of my human body, the most they could do around the compound was what we called a seven. But when I asked them to "do your worst" on the pack lands near Bayfield, they had actually thrown me over a cliff. I hadn't known there were two more wolves waiting for me lower down. They'd caught me on the run. It had been jarring, and I came away with some amazing bruises, but... well, I told them they could do it again.
Portia had a cow about it. She could be such a spoilsport.
"A seven, huh?" Ember asked, studying me. She grinned. "Sure." She pulled out her phone, talked briefly, and then said, "Monique will be here in about fifteen minutes." Then she sniffed. "Are the cookies ready?"
"I put a secret ingredient in them. You don't get any until you guess."
She sniffed then said, "You know Portia Mom doesn't like nuts in her cookies."
"What kind of nuts?"
"You used almonds." She sniffed again. "Smells good though."
"I didn't use almonds," I said. "I used almond milk. You can take them out. Don't forget the oven mitt."
She stepped past me to take the cookies out. "You never told me where the munchkin is."
"The twins came over. She's on a play date. Nora said she'd be back by dinner."
"Oh. Okay. I can get her riled up before bed then."
I laughed. Ember knew better.
She pulled the cookies out and set the two pans down on the waiting trivets. Then she began scooping them onto the cooling racks.
"So, what are you and Portia Mom doing for Valentine's Day? It's this Saturday."
"Well, I think I'm watching movies. Portia has to work. The alphas have a date."
"Well that sucks," she said. "It's Valentine's Day."
"Yes, and the alphas have a date. You know the rule in this house about that." We didn't complain about Portia's job. Ever.
She looked over at me then nodded. "I'm sorry."
"She said she'll make it up for me."
"Fiona and I will wear our earplugs, then."
I immediately began to blush. "That's not what she meant!"
"It certainly is," Ember said. She grinned at me. She loved seeing how easily I blushed. Then she stole a cookie.
"Hey! They have to cool."
"I like them hot," she said around the cookie. She finished putting the rest on the cooling racks then grabbed one of the stools and another cookie. I gave her a dirty look, but she only laughed.
I muttered about not getting any respect.
"Yeah, yeah," she said. "So..."
I grabbed the stool next to her and collected a free hand, the one that wasn't occupied with a cookie. She stuffed it into her mouth, and then we sat, looking at each other, holding hands, while she finished chewing the cookie.
"Right," she said. "Valentine's Day."
"Do you have a date?"
"That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Monique, Cassie, and I talked about it. We don't know what to do."
"What do you mean?"
"Well... if Monique asks one of us out, then she's sort of picking, you know? And then the other one is probably stuck without a date. Or Cassie and I could go out, but then Monique either is without a date or has to go out with someone she doesn't like as much."
I had once advised Monique not to hurry about settling down. She should date around. I'd given Ember similar advice. They had taken it to heart, but if Ember had a date, it was most likely either Monique or Cassie. She said 'yes' to almost anyone who invited her, but the patterns had become clear.
"I think I understand," I said.
"We don't know what to do. I really want to go out with both of them. I don't know how to pick between them. They both feel the same way. Each of us is willing to tell the other two they should go together, but I don't want to, and they don't, either. Monique can ask someone else, but..."
"Right." Neither Cassie or Ember asked, except each other. If they went out with anyone else, that person did the asking. "Honey, what do you think would be a perfect Valentine's Day date?"
"I don't know."
"Dinner?"
"Sure."
"A movie?"
"I guess."
"Theater?"
"Like... a play?" She made a face.
I smiled. "Okay, maybe not. But how about a comedy club or something like that."
"Oh, that would be fun."
"A run?"
"Oh, definitely a run," she said.
Then I asked carefully, "And then sex afterwards?"
"Mom!" she screeched.
"Oh, don't give me that. You give me a hard time on a pretty continuous basis."
She gave me a serious look. "You asked me that for a reason, and it wasn't to hear me yell."
"Well, if the answer is 'yes', then I need to come up with a different idea. If the answer is 'no', then I might have a solution."
She looked at me carefully for a while. "What if the answer is 'maybe'?"
"Ah. Maybe. Then maybe I have a solution, and maybe I don't."
"Tell me."
"You could make it a three-way date."
Her face lit up, but I went on.
"Maybe that's a bad idea."
"It's a fabulou
s idea! Well, maybe Monique and Cassie want sex for Valentine's Day, but I'd be happy with good night kisses." Then she frowned, then slumped entirely. "I can't recommend it."
"Why not?"
"Because you know how Monique is. When it comes to dating, she goes all dominant. She never lets Cassie or me pay. I can't tell her she has to take us both out."
"Is that your only reservation?"
"Yeah."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Don't take that tone with me." I would have let it go, but Portia had warned me early on not to allow even the slightest wiggle room with our children, or they would walk all over me.
She lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry."
I squeezed her hands. "Forgiven. All right. How do you feel about cooking a romantic meal for the three of you?"
She looked up.
"Fiona and I will make ourselves scarce. We might still be here when they arrive, but we'll be gone before the meal is on the table."
"What about... after? A comedy club or something."
"Well, you let me worry about that, too," I said. "That's between Monique and me. She's not going to let you plan the entire date, anyway, is she?"
Ember laughed. "Not a chance, but she'll let me cook." She grinned. "I should wear an apron and put a yellow ribbon in my hair."
"There's the spirit of feminism," I said with a laugh.
Then she looked down again. "Mom. Is it wrong I love them both."
I released one of my hands from hers, reached forward, and lifted her chin so she was looking at me. "No, Darling, it is not. It's sweet and lovely, and you should accept love wherever it comes."
"But what are we going to do?" she asked.
"Well, you're going to finish applying for college, and then we'll see what happens."
"I'm done applying," she said. She climbed from the stool and walked to the refrigerator, opening it to stare inside. She probably needed some protein, and her body didn't recognize my usual sources. She'd grab something very un-vegan shortly.
"What do you mean, you're done applying?"
"I'm going to U-Madison."
"You are not."
She turned around. "Yes, Mom. I am."
"But-"
"I know what you said. I should go away. It's part of growing up. I don't care. Unless you're kicking me out, I don't want to go anywhere." She lowered her eyes. "Please. Can't I stay here?"
"Oh, Honey," I said. "Of course you can."
"I can get a perfectly good education there. I don't want to go away."
I felt the tears crawl into my eyes. I'd been dreading September, even if it were months away. I couldn't stand the thought of her leaving me again. A moment later, the refrigerator forgotten, she pulled me into her arms.
"You didn't want me to go."
"Ember-"
"I want to stay here," she said. "I mean, going away to Stanford or someplace might be exciting, but I'm a werewolf living in a werewolf pack. I'm not exactly short on excitement right here." We hugged tightly for a minute, then she said, "You know, with all that money Portia Mom will save, we could go on a family adventure. Hawaii might be fun."
I laughed but didn't tell her about the surprise we had planned for spring break.
"All right," I said finally. "Grab whatever your body needs and take it to your room so I can plot with -- I mean talk to -- Monique when she arrives."
Scarlett
Oh, it felt good to run. I had the wind in my fur, the crunch of snow under my feet, and the scent of the forest and my mate in my nose. Later, I expected to have the taste of my mate on my tongue.
Life couldn't be better.
We didn't have a destination, and we weren't interested in hunting. Today it was just about running, about feeling free in our fur.
We were a good pair. Angel was stronger than I was, but it wasn't a drastic difference. When we raced as teenagers, we were pretty evenly matched. Now, she was faster than I was, but not so much faster that she felt she had to slow down for us to run. And so we ran together. We leapt together. We were so in tune with each other that we were stride for stride, and some days we intentionally looked for downed trees to leap over, perfectly in sync with each other.
Zoe had watched us one day and begged for a photo shoot. The results had been magnificent.
I glanced over at Angel and caught her watching me. We chuffed at each other.
She was so beautiful. She was magnificent.
She's the only woman I've ever loved. I think we were thirteen when I realized I was in love with her, but I kept it hidden for years. We grew up together; we were playmates even before we could shift into fur. We weren't just high school sweethearts. We were preschool sweethearts, as far as I was concerned.
As we approached the northern edge of pack territory, Angel chuffed at me again. Then I detected a slight change in her step, and I knew what she was going to do, almost before she did. I came to a skidding stop, and she leapt through the space I would have otherwise occupied. Her intention: bowl me over so she landed on top of me. After that, she'd try to take my throat.
Growling, I leapt after her.
Angel was bigger than I was, but I was more agile with faster reflexes. Oh, I wasn't remotely as fast as The Fox; no one was as fast as Michaela. But I was faster than Angel. And so while she had failed to tackle me, she couldn't say the same.
Down she went with me on top. Point to Scarlett!
But she scrambled and threw me off, and then the real tussle began, both of us growling. She leapt at me again, and this time I met her mid-air. Her greater strength would win if I went head to head with her like that, but then I twisted, just a little, and her own strength carried her through to land on the ground.
With me on top. Two points to Scarlett. I chuffed happily and dived my mouth for her throat.
If a human were watching, it might have looked terrible. To a human eyes, we were both huge, far larger than a standard wolf. A big male wolf in North America would weigh less than 150 pounds. In fur, I was 185 and Angel 205. She was almost done bulking out, but I expected her to finish almost as large as Lara. Eric and Rory were both bigger, but not by much.
My point? We were huge, both of us were, with large paws and long, sharp claws. We could rip open a deer with one slice, and it wasn't even difficult. In that way, though, we were a little like a cat: we could sheath our claws. Oh, not entirely, but enough they didn't dig into everything we touched. When we ran, our paw print looked much like a standard wolf, the claws slightly extended, but not to their full length.
And we were growling and snarling. A human would find it deeply intimidating, even a human who should have grown used to it. To this day, my dad still was intimidated when the werewolves were playing rough. Angel and I had to be careful around him, or he kind of freaked out.
But it was all play. They weren't serious growls, after all, although to a human, they would have sounded like it.
We tumbled around on the ground. Angel pushed me off of her again, and we landed with her on top this time, but I continued the roll, and we separated.
Then she surprised me, launching herself at me faster than she normally does, and she knocked me right down, wrapping her legs around me and even digging her claws into my fur, just enough to hold on. I took her entire weight, and in trying to scramble out from under her, I didn't protect my throat properly.
I felt her jaw settle around me.
I went still immediately. A wolf, even a small wolf, could rip out my throat in an instant, once his jaws were clamped in place. And Angel wasn't a small wolf.
Oh, she wouldn't hurt me. But with her teeth on my neck, I wasn't going anywhere. Then she began squeezing until I went entirely limp and whimpered to her: submissive surrender.
She chuffed happily, released the pressure on my neck, and settled her weight a little more, a dominant wolfy hug now.
I didn't complain. She felt so good.
But the snow underneath me wa
s cold, and even through the fur, we couldn't stay here forever. I whined. Angel tightened her mouth on my neck just a little bit, a little reminder of who had won, and then she climbed off me.
We both shook out our fur. I bumped my shoulder against hers. And a moment later, we were running again.
Life was perfect.
* * * *
We'd begun our run directly from the alphas' house, and so we returned there, letting ourselves in the front door, each of us giving a small bark. It wasn't as good as saying our names, but Michaela could recognize our individual voices, so she knew who had just entered her home.
Ah, Michaela. I owed her so much. We owed her so much. Angel and I would both do anything for The Fox. If not for her, I was convinced Angel and I wouldn't be together. I would eventually have accepted attention from Derek, and Angel would be with Alan or Jeremy. But instead, Michaela had made each of us just brave enough to talk to each other.
And the rest, as they say, was history.
Once Angel decided to become an enforcer, she began developing habits, and because we had been virtual inseparable, I'd developed the same habits. We both scanned the room, quickly identifying, well, everything. We used eyes and nose at the same time.
Rebecca and Celeste were in fur, running around and, I realized with a sniff, looking for Fiona, Portia and Zoe's daughter. Fiona was in fur and hiding underneath the sofa; she was still small enough to do so, barely. I imagined it was a tight fit. I was sure the twins knew where she was, but they were being sweet and pretending Fiona was difficult to find.
They were good girls, and I loved them to pieces.
Michaela was at the dining room table, working on homework. It amused me that she was going to college. Serena and Portia were on duty, hanging around and keeping an eye on everything.
It was the perfect scene of werewolf domestic bliss.
Angel would have gotten all the information I had. We eyed each other, and then we both put our noses to the floor and began sniffing loudly, pretending to help look for Fiona. Instead of running, we circled the room slowly; I traveled clockwise, and Angel went counter-clockwise. We circled twice, and then, once Rebecca and Celeste began moving towards Fiona's hiding place, Angel and I stepped up beside the twins, all of us lowering our noses at the edge of the sofa.
