Page 78 of Claiming the Wolf Daddy

I met a number of couples with mixed dynamics, just like Cole and myself.

I talked to humans who had plans to transition into shifters. I talked to shifters who’d been adopted as children and didn’t learn they were shifters until later in life. I met shifters who’d lived in more traditional packs and had been jilted and hurt by traditional pack dynamics.

Sylvia and I met so many wonderful, interesting people. Although it was tiring and overwhelming to be among such a large group of people, it was also wonderful to see people who might become our friends—maybe even our family—over time.

The event was a major success. We left with close to two hundred phone numbers and email addresses to follow up with people. We would have our work cut out for us, that much was certain, but it was a workload we were both happy to take on to make sure our pack thrived.

When the event was over, Sylvia and I decided to get dinner together, both of us worn out from the day of socializing and the loud humming of the fluorescent lights. Sylvia suggested pho. It had been a long time since I’d had any good Vietnamese food, but this area had a large Vietnamese population with a ton of amazing restaurants to choose from.

There was something about eating food after a long and arduous day that made it all the more delicious. We got a couple of appetizers to share along with our soup. We were quiet for the first few minutes after getting our food, both of us ravenous and focused on enjoying our meal. But once we dulled the sharper edges of our hunger, we started to talk.

Mostly, Sylvia told me about her sons. How well they were doing, how proud she was of them. How much she missed them.

“You’ll get to know that feeling soon enough yourself. I know Noah seems like a little baby boy right now, but that time will zoom by in the blink of an eye, and you’ll be wondering where it went.” She bit into a pork spring roll.

“You think so?” I said. “It doesn’t feel right to call him my son.”

“Cole told me he’s started calling you Mama every now and then,” Silvia said. “Do you not want to be a maternal figure to him?”

“What? Of course I do! I love Noah, and I love filling that role in his life for him,” I said. “But I sometimes worry that I can’t really provide him what he needs as a mother figure. Not the same way that you or Valentina might be able to.”

“What do we have that you don’t have?” Sylvia asked.

I looked at her from across the table and bit the inside of my lip. I knew this might get me in trouble with Cole and lead to another argument. But I had been chewing on it for weeks now and needed input from someone who wasn’t Cole. Someone who wasn’t as invested in me remaining the way I was.

“Sylvia,” I began hesitantly, “I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching lately, and there’s something I could really use some advice on.”

Her eyebrows shot up, but her eyes were filled with concern. “Tell me what’s on your mind, Marley.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what the future looks like for Cole, Noah, and me,” I confided, my voice barely above a whisper. “And every time I think about it, whenever I think about all the moving parts and all the complications involved, the obvious choice is for me to transition and become a shifter. Thing is, every time I try to talk about it with Cole, he either forbids it or changes the subject.”

“Forbids it?” Sylvia gaped at me. “He knows better than that. His mother and I have taught him better than that.”

“I don’t think he means it like that. When we’ve argued about it, he’s made valid points—that it would be more dangerous for me since I already have an aborted bite, for example. And he doesn’t want me to make a permanent change just because I’m trying to fit in—”

“Is that why you’re doing it, though? To fit in?”

I pushed my spoon around my bowl. “No...I don’t think so,” I said. “I know you guys don’t see me as any different from you. I know Cole and Lana and Paulette and all the rest of them would never make me feel inadequate or bad for not being a shifter. But while I was in Georgia with Cole and seeing the pack interact with each other and going on moonlight runs—hell, even watching Travis get his first injection—all I can think is that I want to feel that for myself.”

Sylvia nodded. “It’s a level of camaraderie that’s hard to find anywhere else. And a lot of it is biological in nature.”

I nodded, trying again not to feel sick with envy at the thought of it. I’d known for a long time that there would always be some kind of fundamental separation between me and everyone else, despite Cole’s promises that he would ensure the pack was inclusive.

“Right,” I said. “If I do it, I would want Cole to support me while I go through it. I look at Lana and Travis going through this whole ordeal. I want that for myself if I choose to transition.”

Sylvia listened attentively, her expression thoughtful and understanding. “Marley, it’s important to prioritize your own happiness and well-being,” she said gently. “If Cole truly loves you, he’ll support you in whatever decision you make. And that means being there for you when you make the transition.”

“What do I do if he refuses?” I asked.

Sylvia looked at me soberly. “Honey, you and I have both been with controlling partners. You know what you need to do if Cole ever gets himself into such a protective tizzy over you that he refuses to let you be exactly what and who you want to be. What would you draw from that?”

I looked down at my soup, suddenly losing my appetite. “I don’t want to leave him.”

“I know, and for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’ll need to,” she said, reaching across the table to pat my hand. “Cole is a good boy. I know he’ll choose what’s right. But if he gets too trigger-happy in his role as your protector, you need to make sure that you protect yourself.”

I nodded. “You’re right. Just because I love him doesn’t mean I have to be swallowed up by him.”

“Exactly,” she said. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

---