Page 38 of His Prodigal Alpha

He laughed, and I groaned at the movement, trying to enjoy the pleasure/pain as it rolled over me. “Let’s see if you’re still saying that when I’m even bigger and moodier.”

* **

After the success of our first date, I made an effort to take Damon out again and again, sticking true to my word of changing plans whenever necessary. I also further solidified my place in Shifters Sanctuary, getting a job at a nearby farm.

The family who owned the farm were apparently fox shifters. Sam and Becca were a beta couple with their omega son, Tim, and they were wary of me at first, only giving me a chance because Beck asked them to. However, by the end of my second full day of work, they’d all but adopted me as an honorary member of their family.

It was nice, and I’ll admit I got a little choked up when I realized that I actually felt like I belonged. I might have been a cat —and a cat who couldn’t actually shift yet at that— but I was still a shifter like them. In their world, being attracted to other men was considered totally normal. I wasn’t disappointing them, or any other kind of bigoted nonsense. If anything, they became invested in my budding relationship, and were insanely excited about the baby I’d be having in only a few short months.

For the first time in a long time, I felt good about where my life seemed to be heading.

I even spoke to Eric about buying one of the cottages he owned on the edge of the town’s limits. Sitting vacant, it was old and a little dilapidated, but it had character and with a bit of hard work and spit-shine, it would make the perfect home for a little family like the one I hoped to make with Damon and our son.

And by the time Christmas Eve was upon us, I was barely panicked about the prospect of being a father. Watching Beckwith his little ones had helped with that. They were cute little things, and he seemed to genuinely enjoy them. It gave me hope that I would feel the same way about my own. I even felt more confident about taking care of my kid, having practiced changing diapers and bottle-feeding Beck’s pair on a couple of occasions. I figured, if I could muck out a stable, I could change a diaper. I’d been half right. But, with practice, I’d eventually proven I could do the latter just as proficiently as the former. Ollie had even joked that I did a better job than his mate, much to Beck’s bemusement.

Secretly, I thought Ollie was looking forward to redeeming himself with Beck later.

Damon and I spent Christmas Eve together in his apartment. I cooked him a meal based on his latest cravings (creamy pasta with extra bacon) and we snuggled together on his couch watching Christmas movies. I would have happily spent the next couple of days doing the same thing, but he had agreed on my behalf to join him and most of the town at Ollie and Beck’s house for the first annual ‘Shifters Sanctuary Holidays For Strays’ event.

Yeah, apparently Oliver was insane for Christmas and wouldn’t let anyone spend the holidays alone. Even though I would have happily spent the holidays with only Damon, I thought it was a sweet gesture on Ollie’s part, as well as a smart one. The town was a pack, after all, and I was beginning to understand the nuanced differences between being friendly neighbors and being pack.

Being pack felt like being part of a family, but it also felt like more than that. It was hard to explain why, especially when Shifters Sanctuary’s shifters were so eclectic.

Damon had been teaching me how to scent, andit had blown my mind to realize that the town contained shifters of such varied breeds and backgrounds. Hedgehogs, wolves, tortoises, dragons, rabbits, foxes…hell, there were even a couple of giraffes, which I thought was kind of hilarious. I figured they were able to blend in with the same ease as Brandt, Eric, and Sage (that was to say: none at all).

But, for all their physiological differences, the townspeople cared deeply about each other, even if they didn’t always see eye to eye.

Having lived among them for the better part of a month, I was beginning to care, too.

* * *

“I’ve gotta give it to Ollie,” I said, yawning and stretching in my chair, resting my wrist on Damon’s shoulder, “this shindig was a great idea.”

Under the two marquees they had set up on their property, Ollie and Beck were holding court at the other table, which ran parallel to the one we were seated at. I didn’t think I’d seen Rory or Duke set down even once in the playpen that had been set aside for them. Instead, the babies had been passed around what felt like every member of the town, not that either of them seemed at all fazed.

The food had been wonderful, and as we had sat and talked with our tablemates, I’d once again felt that deeper-than-family connection.

Pack, the voice inside me —the one I associated with my inner alpha— said, sounding content,mine.

I’d never felt anything like this feeling before. Not really. My adoptive family had been kind and affectionate until I’dhit my teens and my ‘proclivities’, as my dad had called them, became obvious. But even then, I hadn’t felt like I’d belonged. I supposed that maybe some part of me had always known I was different. Not just because I’d been adopted, or because I’d been a boy who liked boys, but because that alpha instinct was always there, simmering just out of my consciousness.

“Mmm,” Damon echoed my yawn and leaned into me, resting his head on my shoulder. I slipped my hand down to his bicep and shuffled closer on my chair, soaking in his uninhibited public display of affection. No matter how innocent the gesture, it made my instincts sing. Something inside of me practically purred with satisfaction. “I ate too much,” he grumbled, oblivious to the victory dance I was having in my soul. “Now I’m sleepy.”

His hand rested over his baby bump and I wondered if our son was also tired after the feast, or if the giant servings of dessert Damon had eaten were going to give the kid a sugar buzz. I knew that drinking cold orange juice made the little thing bounce around like crazy inside his daddy, so maybe all the pudding and pie would, too.

Unable to help myself, I kissed the top of Damon’s head. “Sleep, kitten. I’ve got you.”

“You don’t wanna come shift with us?” Royce, a teenaged bear shifter asked from beside me. He was all gangly limbs and pimpled cheeks — awkward and stuck in that phase between boyhood and adulthood. He had a sweet smile and had latched on to me from the moment he and his mom introduced themselves.

I’d never really felt empathy towards kids before, and I wondered if the soft emotions I felt when this random kid grinned up at me were my alpha’s way of prepping me forfatherhood.

Setting those thoughts aside, I blushed, grateful for the dimming light as dusk turned to night, and I shook my head. “Nah, I’m beat. Ate so much, I think I’d turn into a pie rather than a puma.”

Royce rolled his eyes while the other people around us laughed.

Truth be told, I still hadn’t managed to shift. Beck assured me that it would happen when I was ready for it, but I honestlyfeltready. I was settling into the pack. I wasn’t panicked about becoming a father. I wanted to be with Damon in every way possible, including our animal forms. I was ready.

Except something inside me wouldn’t budge.

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