Page 26 of Shift Happens
Something about the certainty in his voice, the contentment in his expression, settled any lingering doubts I might have had about meeting his pack. Whatever challenges lay ahead—cultural differences, traditional expectations, the complexities of building a life between human and wolf worlds—we would face them together.
For now, in our newly established den, that was more than enough.
Chapter 12
The forest loomed ahead, dark and primeval in the gathering dusk. From the passenger seat, Milo practically vibrated with nervous energy, his usual fidgeting amplified by what I’d come to recognize as pre-full-moon restlessness.
“It’ll be fine,” I assured him, reaching across to squeeze his knee. “They’re your family. They want you to be happy.”
“I know,” he nodded, though his leg continued bouncing. “It’s just… significant. Bringing you here. To them. Tonight.”
I understood his anxiety. We’d spent the past week preparing for this introduction—Milo coaching me on pack etiquette, me trying to absorb information about hierarchies and traditions that felt alien to my human sensibilities. But beneath the practical preparations lay deeper meaning: this was Milo formally declaring his intentions toward me to his entire community.
“We turn here,” he directed, pointing to an unmarked dirt road that I would have missed entirely. “Another mile or so, then we’ll need to walk.”
I navigated carefully down the rough track, grateful for my Subaru’s decent clearance. The trees grew thicker, branches occasionally scraping against the windows like curious fingers.
“Stop here,” Milo said as we reached a small clearing with several other vehicles parked haphazardly. “We’ll go on foot from now.”
I killed the engine, taking a moment to center myself before exiting the car. The full moon hadn’t risen yet, but twilight was fading fast, the forest growing darker by the minute. Milo retrieved a backpack from the rear seat—containing a change of clothes for after his shift and a small gift for the pack alpha, which he’d explained was customary when introducing a potential mate.
“Ready?” he asked, offering his hand.
I took it, squeezing gently. “As I’ll ever be.”
The forest path was barely visible to my human eyes, but Milo navigated confidently, occasionally pointing out roots or dips that might trip me. The sounds of the woods surrounded us—rustling leaves, distant calls of night birds, and eventually, as we drew closer to our destination, the murmur of voices and flicker of firelight through the trees.
“We’re almost there,” Milo said, his grip on my hand tightening slightly. “Remember what I told you—let me introduce you, don’t maintain eye contact too long with dominant wolves, and accept any food offered.”
“Got it,” I nodded, heart rate increasing despite my attempts to remain calm. “No staring contests with werewolves. Seems like solid life advice in general.”
He smiled, some tension leaving his shoulders at my attempt at humor. “They’re going to like you. Just be yourself—the Finn who took in a clumsy wolf during a thunderstorm.”
We emerged from the trees into a large clearing bathed in the glow of several fire pits. What struck me immediately was how normal it appeared at first glance—people of various ages gathered in groups, talking and laughing, some preparing food, others arranging what looked like ceremonial items around the largest fire.
Then I noticed the differences—the way they moved with preternatural grace, the occasional flash of amber eyes reflectingfirelight, the casual physical contact that reminded me of Milo’s pack tendencies. And around the edges of the clearing, partially concealed by shadows, several full-shifted wolves watched the proceedings with intelligent eyes.
Our arrival didn’t go unnoticed. Conversations paused as heads turned in our direction, noses lifting slightly as they caught our scent. A ripple of awareness spread through the gathering, and I fought the urge to step behind Milo despite being nearly a foot taller.
A woman detached herself from the main group and approached us. She moved with the fluid confidence of someone completely comfortable in her authority—neither hurried nor hesitant. She appeared to be in her forties, with dark hair streaked with silver and eyes that glowed amber even in human form.
“Sadie,” Milo said respectfully, lowering his gaze slightly. “I’ve brought Finn to meet the pack, as we discussed.”
The alpha’s gaze swept over me, assessing but not hostile. “Finn,” she said, her voice carrying a subtle power that commanded attention. “We’ve heard much about you from our Milo. Welcome to our gathering.”
I remembered Milo’s coaching and offered a slight bow of my head. “Thank you for allowing me to attend. It’s an honor to be invited.”
Something that might have been approval flickered in her expression. “You’ve prepared him well,” she said to Milo, who straightened slightly at the compliment.
“He’s a quick learner,” he replied, pride evident in his voice.
Sadie nodded, then turned back to the main gathering. “Come. The moon will rise soon. There are others eager to meet you before the shift.”
We followed her toward the central fire, where curious eyes tracked our approach. Milo remained close to my side,occasionally brushing against me in what I recognized as both reassurance and subtle scent-marking.
“These are Milo’s parents,” Sadie introduced, gesturing to a couple who stepped forward. “Arnold and Lucia.”
Milo’s father was a stern-looking man with the same chestnut hair as his son, though shot through with gray. His mother was smaller, with Milo’s same amber eyes and a warmer expression that eased some of my nervousness.
