by Viola Rivard
As the pup calmed down, Taylor's exhaustion caught up with her. Her shoulders sagged, and she leaned against Alder's chest. His arms came up around her, both holding her, and holding her up.
“Can we just put a pin in this whole issue and go get some rest? Hale and I haven't slept for a full day now.”
Alder pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Of course.” He looked down at the pup who was starting to fall back asleep. “This isn't going to be too much for you?”
Had someone asked her a year and a half ago, when she'd been staring down at the two, helpless little creatures she'd just given birth to, Taylor would have answered with an unequivocal and resounding, “Yes.” Now, she was inclined to say the same, but she knew that time had a way of unwinding her fears and insecurities.
Taylor leaned more deeply into her mate's embrace, allowing him to support her fully. “Ask me again after I get some sleep.”
EPILOGUE
WINTER HAD OFFICIALLY ENDED last week, or so Taylor had thought. After three consecutive days of warm, March sunshine the last of the snow had melted. The melted snow filled the newly unfrozen lakes, causing the narrow strip of land that ran between them to flood, temporarily joining them together into one, body of water.
The coast had been steadily creeping upwards ever since, and Taylor had feared that one more rainfall would have it licking the edges of her backyard. Early that morning, she had stood on her porch, swathed in a heavy blanket, watching the gray sky with a looming sense of dread. The last time the cabin had flooded, it had been a week until it was habitable again. A week in which she'd been stuck in the dark, dank den with two restless pups.
Today, neither rain nor sunshine had come. Instead, the air had remained cold, and just as she was preparing to tuck the pups into bed, the snow had begun to fall. They were gentle flurries at first, but they quickly blanketed the ground. By noontime, the snow had passed her ankles with no sign of stopping, and her children had been scampering in and out of the cabin all day, sleep all but forgotten.
She had been out with them most of the day but had retired an hour ago to cook dinner. No one had come into eat and she was tired of letting the cold air in to call for them. Besides, she was enjoying the quiet time with her mates.
“I swear he's grown a foot in the past month,” Taylor said. “Do you think so? Or does he just look extra big next to Henry?”
Alder rested his chin on the top of her head, his hands absently stroking her hips. “He's grown at least a half foot in both forms.”
Taylor chewed her lip. “In his human form, too? God, I think you're right. I keep saying I'm going to start measuring him, like with notches on the doorframe, but I think the idea of it freaks me out a little, you know? I mean, if he keeps going at this rate, he'll be as tall as me by his third birthday.”
They watched the pups from the window. Taylor used the term “pup” loosely when referring to Shadow. He wasn't even two yet, but he was already babysitting. And he wasn't just an “extra special helper” babysitter. He was better at minding the pups than most of his pack mates. Taylor still insisted on keeping an adult around whenever the pups were playing, but it was not uncommon to find Shadow scolding one of his grown-up pack mates for mishandling a pup or not being properly attentive to their needs. It continuously boggled her mind that he and Fawn were the same age.
Shadow sat by the quail coup, watching Henry and Fawn play. For Henry, playing consisted of watching the quail who were huddled in their hutch. The poor pup was constantly trying to get inside to play with them, oblivious to the fact that they were terrified of him.
Henry had learned to shift the very first week that they'd arrived at the den, a surprise to everyone. Since his first shift, he hadn't once returned to his human form, something that saddened Taylor, but was also understandable. Within a few days of shifting, he'd learned to wobble around on three legs, and now several months out, he walked as proficiently as any other pup. Alder predicted that he would return to his human form once he began talking, but would likely spend a good part of his youth in wolf form, where he felt the most capable.
By contrast, Fawn was almost never in wolf form. Her speech had begun to blossom in the past few weeks. Nowhere near as sophisticated as Shadow's, she mostly mimicked others, but she was eager to learn. Since her talking had picked up, she'd stopped taking her wolf form entirely, something that was unexpectedly inconvenient. On days like this, where it was easy to send the pups out to play, they'd had to spend a great deal of time bundling her up and were constantly having to go outside to put her boots and gloves back on.
Fawn's latest quirk was a sudden obsession with burying things, mostly her dolls. She paced around the yard, scooping little holes and then depositing the dolls and dumping heaps of snow on them. Now and then, Shadow would run a tour of the yard, digging each one up and placing it in a pile for his sister to re-bury.
Taylor seriously didn't know what she would do without Shadow. He was the best.
“He's just so huge,” Taylor said, putting her hand on the glass. “With me as his mother, shouldn't he be shorter than the two of you?”
“He'll slow down soon,” Hale said from his place on the bed. “My nephew Caim was the same way, though he was about six when he shot up. He went from just a little smaller than Shadow to almost my size in a year. Now quit worrying and get over here.”
Taylor gripped the windowsill. “Hang on.”
Without warning, Alder gripped her hips and hoisted her up over his shoulder. Taylor squealed in protest, giving a half-hearted flail for good measure. Alder feigned tossing her onto the bed, but at the last second he steadied her and laid her down gently. His mouth came down on hers, his hot lips seizing hers for an all-too-brief kiss.
“Holly is coming at sunset,” he said when they parted. “She's going to take them to the den and give us a break for the night.”
“Oh?” Taylor said, giddy at the implication. “All of them? What about Fuzzy over here?”
She turned on her side, allowing Alder to spoon her while she ran her fingertips along Belle's back. She was nestled against Hale's side, dozing in her fuzzy black puppy form. It had been only a couple days since she'd started to shift, and she'd yet to display a preference for either form. Though she'd taken a few months to start shifting, the shift seemed to come easier to her than it did to the other pups, and Taylor swore she'd once seen Belle shift in the middle of nap time, barely waking in the process.
Unlike the others, who seemed to have boundless energy, Belle napped a lot. This was a small blessing because when she was awake, she was highly particular about who cared for her. She was not the social butterfly that Fawn was, and she didn't gravitate towards Shadow as Henry had. She would tolerate Alder or Hale so long as they were doing something to amuse her, but if anyone else in the pack tried to handle her, she would wail incessantly.
Anyone besides Taylor, of course. Belle had bonded with Taylor from the first and was more attached to her than even Shadow had been. She was with Taylor day in and day out, leaving her sling only for diaper changes and the rare nap with one of her siblings. It was a small miracle that she had fallen asleep at Hale's side, and Taylor hoped it was a sign of things to come. Sort of. When the inevitable day came when Belle was ready to seize her independence, Taylor would miss doting on the little girl. By that time, she could be expecting a new child, though the thought wasn't all that comforting. Having two new and wonderful children had done little to tamper her reservations about another pregnancy. When she considered it, she tried focusing on the outcome of a beautiful, healthy child of Hale's, and not on the myriad other possibilities.
“Lark is going to pick her up separately,” Hale said, inadvertently confirming what Taylor had suspected. He and his brother had been plotting to get her alone.
Alder said, “With any luck, she'll be able to extract Belle and get her to the den without waking her.”
“Are you kidding?” Taylor said. “It's freez
ing outside, and you know how Belle is with the cold. She'll be awake and as soon as Lark steps foot onto the porch.”
The door burst open a second later. Shadow had kicked it open so hard that it banged loudly against the wall. He was naked in his human form, an oversized puppy under one arm and a squirming little girl under the other.
“Put your clothes on this instant!” Taylor said. “What have I told you about shifting outside in the winter?”
Shadow swung his shaggy mane of hair, sending droplets of water flying throughout the room. “Technically, winter is over.”
Taylor loathed the word “technically,” particularly the way her son had begun wielding it lately. He used it to create loopholes in almost every one of her rules, which meant that she'd had to get increasingly specific and that often led to her sounding ridiculous, even to her own ears.
She said, “As long as there's snow on the ground or a chill in the air, you shift indoors and get dressed right away. It's not safe to go running around without clothes in the cold.”
“What are you doing inside?” Hale said. “You're supposed to be waiting for Holly to come take you and the pups to the den.”
They had Shadow in on it, too? Too weird.
Shadow said, “The pups were hungry and Holly went off somewhere with Glenn. She said she'd be right back, but that was forever ago.”
“Glenn?” Alder said. He was fending off Henry, who was dripping with melted snow and trying to rush at Taylor. “He's not on post until tomorrow.”
“I dunno,” Shadow said. He had put on a pair of pants and then gone straight for the pot of stew. “He showed up as Holly was coming to get us, and then they left. This is why you should have me watch the pups. Holly is irresponsible, Glenn's always disappearing with girls, Fenix won't change diapers, and Lark treats the girls like toys.”
Fawn had managed to intercept Hale and plop down in Taylor's lap. On the way, her boots had left behind clumps of snow on the bedding, and Taylor tried not to be annoyed. She worked quickly to remove Fawn's boots but had to stop in the middle of removing her coat as Belle woke and began to cry.
Shadow was still ranting in between shoveling spoonfuls of stew in his mouth. “I guess if you're going to have an adult around, it's should probably be Karin. She lets me do whatever I want and doesn't get in my way.”
“Sounds like an ace-quality in a supervisor,” Taylor commented as she hoisted Belle into her lap. Belle had taken human form as she always did when she wanted a good crying session. Taylor didn't bother trying to put her to the breast. Belle had eaten right before falling asleep and wouldn't be hungry for a few more hours. Right now, all she wanted was Taylor's full and undivided attention.
Fat chance.
“Snow, Mama,” Fawn said. “Snow on baby.”
Without looking up, Taylor said, “Yes, I saw you putting your babies under the snow.”
“Snow on baby, Mama,” Fawn said again, this time depositing a handful of snow directly onto Belle's face.
Taylor cried out in surprise, causing Fawn to try to mimic the sound, though her cry was punctuated by a fit of giggles. As Taylor rushed to clean the sobbing baby, Hale took hold of Fawn and began gently admonishing her as he removed her coat and the one mitten that had made it inside.
“I actually have a schedule to share with you,” Shadow said. He was passing out bowls of stew that no one had asked for. “I think it will help you manage the pups better.”
“Not in the bed,” Alder said, trying to pass the bowl back to Shadow while also drying off Henry.
“But that's where everyone is,” Shadow said, taking a seat at the end of the bed. He had given her and Hale each a bowl and had three more heaping bowls balanced on his arm. She had assumed he was going to offer them to the pups but then watched in awe as he began systematically devouring what amounted to half the cook pot.
“Try some?” It was the only warning Taylor had before Fawn hooked her finger onto Taylor's bowl, tipping it over.
Hale narrowly caught the bowl, but not before some stew spilled onto the bed furs. Taylor repressed the urge to shout at Fawn, knowing it would only upset Belle in the end. Fawn was oblivious to discipline.
“Well, if you're so good at minding the pups, why don't you take them to the den yourself?” Taylor knew she must have been nearing her wit's end if she was suggesting such a thing.
“Don't wanna,” Shadow managed through a mouthful of food.
“Well, I want you to.”
“Don't care.” He softened the brusque response with a playful look. “Besides, technically, I'm still a pup. I shouldn't be outside on my own, and especially not minding other pups. Unless, you're willing to admit that I'm not a pup, in which case, I might be inclined to take the pups to the den.”
Might be inclined?
“You are a pup,” Alder said. He had finally dried Henry and deposited the silvery pup on Taylor's lap. “You're certainly not a juvenile, not by a long shot.”
Fawn began to chirp, “Don't wanna, don't care, don't wanna, don't care.”
“See what you started?” Taylor groaned.
Belle had begun slipping back into sleep, and Taylor nestled her beside Henry. She waited a few seconds for any signs of protests, but both pups seemed content with the arrangement.
Relieved, she fell back onto the bed and stretched her arms above her head. Her mates fell down on either side of her, each of them looking exhausted in their own ways. They had both spent the day up as well. It had been one of those rare days where neither of the alphas had much to do, and they'd spent most of the day with her and the pups.
“How are we going to get rid of them?” Taylor said, only half joking. “Do you want to carry one in each arm and haul them up the mountainside?”
“Shadow's too big,” Alder said grimly. “And he bites.”
Hale said, “We can wait until they fall asleep, and then go to the den ourselves.”
Alder nodded. “It's the only practical solution.”
“I don't wanna go to the den,” Taylor whined.
“Don't care,” Hale said. “As soon as the last one falls asleep, I'm hauling you up the mountainside, taking you to my bed, and—”
Taylor clamped a hand over his mouth. Hale nipped the inside of her palm, making her jerk back. She held the wounded hand up to Alder, puckering her lips in mock pouting. Alder gave her a wicked look, and she had to yank her hand back quickly to avoid getting another bite.
Alder snatched her wrist, his big hand swallowing it up. Taylor groaned a protest, expecting him to try to bite her again. Instead, he pulled her towards him, and then closed the distance with a kiss that made her toes curl.
Before he could deepen the kiss, Hale separated them with a shove to his brother's shoulders.
“Not in front of the pups,” Hale grunted.
They all knew that was bullshit. Hale often tried doing much more than kissing her when the pups were around, particularly when the pups were sleeping.
Instead of getting annoyed, Taylor rolled over and kissed away his complaints, parting only when he tried shoving his tongue down her throat. There was a certain level of intimacy she wasn't willing to cross while in front of the kids. Taylor was already dreading the day when Shadow asked about the scent of arousal.
As they came apart, Fawn stuffed herself between Taylor and Hale, her fingers still pink from the cold and bits of stew stuck to her blonde hair. Taylor tucked Belle in beside her as Shadow and Henry burrowed a space beside Alder. Taylor managed to kiss each one of the little faces, and then she rested her cheek against the top of Shadow's head. She closed her eyes and took in a long drag of her son's scent.
“Don't you dare fall asleep,” she heard Hale say.
“I'm not tired,” Shadow responded.
“I wasn't talking to you. You should definitely go to sleep.”
Shadow said, “Wolves are nocturnal, so technically I should stay awake until morning.”
“Pups sleep when they'
re told to,” Hale said.
“I'm not a pup,” Shadow shot back.
Taylor let out a prolonged groan. “Can you both stop arguing in my ears?”
They both ignored her and continued to debate one another in circles. Hale often claimed that Fawn was his daughter and Shadow was Alder's, usually when Shadow wasn't obeying him. In Taylor's eyes, Shadow became more and more like Hale every day. The only major difference between them was that Shadow could keep his cool and seldom lost his temper.
Just as Taylor was about to start boxing ears, Alder rose from the bed, lifting Taylor up and into his arms as he went. He grabbed one of the spare furs and wrapped her up while Hale looked on with narrowed eyes.
“Here's an idea,” Alder said. “You wait here with the pups, Hale. I'll take Taylor to the den and send Holly along to relieve you.”
Hale sat up. “How about I take Taylor to the den and you—”
The rest of his sentence was cut off as Alder slammed the door on his brother. Taylor could hear Hale curse, uttering a word she would have smacked him for saying in front of the pups. She didn't bother yelling at him. After spending the afternoon in the warm cabin, the cold evening air knocked the breath from her. She clutched at Alder's chest, scrunching her body up as tightly as she could.
“Cold, cold, cold,” she said, her teeth chattering.
As he walked, Alder silenced her with another kiss. This time, his mouth moved over hers, slow and deliberate, with just the barest hint of fangs. By the time the cabin had disappeared behind the trees, Taylor had nearly forgotten about the cold.
“You should really...watch where...you're going,” she said between kisses.
“I know exactly where I'm going,” Alder muttered, his voice low and purring.
Taylor buried her fingers in his hair, both for warmth and pleasure. “You're not sending Holly, are you?”
“Nope.”
“That's so mean.”
