I wake to darkness and a dull pain in my head, and I don't know where I am or how I got here. I'm lying in a bed, in a room with a window through which I glimpse the bright white eye of the moon.
Something moves at my side – a mountainous figure shifting in sleep – and fear explodes within my chest as memory bursts through my mind like a film played very fast in reverse.
The Dire and his violence; my torment and despair. I thought I had escaped him. Had it only been a dream?
The figure beside me lifts itself, and with a half strangled cry, I fall from the bed in a tangle of blankets, landing with a muffled thump. A light flicks on, and I shut my eyes as the pain in my head spikes. I have no strength, and I don't feel well, and my only sad defense is to curl into a ball.
"Kit?"
The voice that speaks my name is low and mellow, a little rough with sleep and tinged with concern. It's like a ray of warm sunlight piercing the fog, and my confusion dissipates.
"Monty!"
He kneels to help untangle me from the blankets, and I throw myself into his arms, knocking him back against the side of the bed.
"Ow." He grunts as he catches me, but he holds on tight and lets me lean against his chest as the last shivers of fear run their course. "You okay? What happened?"
"I thought I was back there," I whisper, breathing in the comfort of his scent. "With... him."
"Well, you're not. You're here, and you're safe." He smooths his hands up and down my back. "How's your head?"
"Hurts."
"You remember what happened?"
I push myself away from him just far enough to see his face. "Yes. Your mom and dad... Are they...?"
"They're fine. We're all fine, thanks to you." He shakes his head, a slight smile on his lips. "How'd you know Jake had a dart gun, anyway? I couldn't tell the difference with the light behind him."
"Neither could I," I admit.
Monty's eyes widen, and he pulls me against his chest again.
"Lords, Kit. I'm supposed to be the one who jumps in front of bullets. Try not to do that again, okay?"
"Okay."
A quiet laugh rumbles in his chest. "Alright, let's get back to bed. It's too early to be up yet."
He helps me to my feet, untangles the blankets and sheet, and spreads them neatly back over the bed. As he does, I see that his shoulder is bandaged, and he only uses one hand. The other is wrapped tightly in gauze.
He lifts the covers for me, then slides in at my side. We lie face to face, and I gently touch his injured hand.
"You got hurt."
"Not as badly as I would have, if not for you. You saved me, Kit. You saved everyone."
I blush, feeling undeserving of his praise.
"I just wanted to protect my M—" I stop myself. That's the second time I've almost said it.
"Your Mate," Monty affirms, surprising me. His voice is very quiet and serious, and when I glance up, I can just make out the color of his dark amber eyes, lit by the pale moon. "I know. I feel it, too."
"You do?" I whisper. I'd known it was true for me, but I'd hardly dared to hope he might feel the same.
"I do," he replies, and lifts my hand to his lips. "I didn't believe it was possible, at first, but today you convinced me. Don't know why you'd want a big old giant like me, but if you do, I'm all yours, Kit."
Happiness blossoms in my chest like a cherry tree bursting into bloom, so perfect and beautiful I can't contain the feeling, and tears slip down my face.
Monty wipes them away with the pad of his thumb. "Hey, no crying now. I wanna see you smile. You're my honeyed sunshine, Kit."
"You're my everything," I whisper in reply.
"Yeah," he sighs, settling back against the pillow. "That's what I'm afraid of. We can talk about it later, though. For now, this is enough."
He pulls me a little closer, and kisses the top of my head.
I'm not quite sure what he means, but I carry the happy feeling with me into sleep.
~ ☾ ~
The next time I wake up, I'm not confused at all. Strong arms trap me in a soft embrace, and a leg like a tree trunk half-crushes my lower body, but I'm not afraid. Sunlight spills in through the window, and I recognize the guest room in Sasha's house.
Monty stirs and lifts himself a little.
"Sorry, Kit," he mumbles. "I'm squishing you."
"It's okay," I say, still snuggled against his warmth. "I like it when you squish me."
His cheeks darken with color, and he coughs.
"We best get up. I think I smell breakfast cooking."
He rises and pulls on a pair of loose cotton sweatpants. I follow and press myself against his back, my arms looped about his waist.
"You'll complete the bond with me, won't you, Monty?" I ask. "You'll take me as your own?"
He turns and I see him swallow. "Even if now were the time for that, it's not something to do lightly, Kit. We both need to be ready, in our hearts and minds, and I don't think I am. For now, it's enough to know we're Mates, even if we aren't Mated yet."
"Sasha was lucky she wasn't, I suppose," I murmur. "Do you think Jake was really her Mate?"
"I don't know," he replies quietly. "I don't know how she could've mistaken the feeling, now that I've felt it for myself. Maybe Mom and Dad can help clear that up. They know more about Wolf lore than anyone, aside from Dane, and he learned it all from them, anyways."
He finishes dressing, and I get dressed as well, and follow him downstairs.
When I came in search of the Hunters, a Mate was the last thing I expected to find, and I still can't believe that I can call this great, gorgeous man my own.
He saved me, and every day he teaches me how to heal. And despite what I told him, I'd jump in front of another bullet – or a dart – for him in a heartbeat, if it meant I could keep him just one minute more.
~ ☾ ~
Monty is right, and breakfast is ready when we join the others in the dining area.
The table is laden with pancakes, sausages, bacon, toast, hash browns, and chopped fruit. Alpha Dane and his family sit around it, along with Freya. I recognize Mrs. Hunter as well, though she looks much cleaner and healthier than she did the last time I saw her.
An older man I haven't seen before stands at the stove. He has a slender build, very dark skin, and short gray hair, and he smiles broadly at the sight of us.
"There's my big, gentle hero," he exclaims, giving Monty a hug with a spatula still in one hand. "How are you this morning, my son?"
"Much better," Monty replies, patting his father's shoulder. He's a full foot taller than the older man. "What about you? You should be gettin' breakfast served to you in bed, not cooking it for everyone else."
"Pshh." His father waves him off. "Doing something normal like this is just what I need. Makes me feel almost human again." He laughs.
Monty laughs too, but he still looks concerned.
His dad looks over at me and grins. "And this must be our other hero, Kit."
"N-No, Sir," I stammer. "I mean, y-yes, Sir – I'm Kit – but I'm not a hero. Not like Monty is."
"Sure you are," he insists, taking my hand in his. "The way Monty tells it, we'd all be skins on Jake's wall by now, were it not for you. Oh, and call me Joseph."
"Yes, Joseph," I whisper, unable to meet his eyes any longer. I've never encountered an alpha like him before – with a strong, gentle energy like a slow-moving river – but he's still an alpha, nonetheless.
He quirks a brow at Monty.
"Well, have a seat and help yourselves. I got two eggs, sunny side up, coming your way, Monty. And how 'bout you, Kit? How you like your eggs?"
"S-Sunny," I whisper. "Like Monty."
To be honest, I don't really know any other kind.
"'Sunny like Monty' it is, then." He laughs, but it's a good laugh, and I find myself returning his smile.
Monty and I join the others at the table, and everyone greets us and inquires after Monty's injuries.
"And how are you, Kit?" his mother asks. Her blue eyes are clear and bright this morning, and her long gray hair is neatly gathered in a braid. Luna sits in her lap, playing with the end of it.
"I'm much better, thank you, Mrs. Hunter."
"It's Astrid. You're family now, from what I hear."
I feel myself flush, and study my plate. "Y-Yes, Mrs... Astrid. I hope to be."
"Kit!" Luca yells, reaching for me across the table, and struggles free of Julian's grasp, crawling between everyone's feet to get to me.
Laughing, I lift the little boy into my lap, and he giggles with delight as his sticky fingers grasp chunks of my hair.
"Eews! Eews!" he demands.
"Ears?" Astrid guesses.
"Yes." I blush. "To entertain them, sometimes... I Shift my ears."
"Well, go on, then." She watches with interest.
"Mom," Monty warns, but I look up quickly and smile.
"It's alright. I don't mind – for them."
I shut my eyes and Shift my ears to the large, snowy-white ears of a fox. Luca shrieks with delight and tugs on one, making me wince, and Freya dissolves in a fit of laughter.
"He's like one of those... those anime thingies with the ears!"
"Alright, that's your last mimosa, missy," Julian says, and moves her drink out of reach. "It's not even ten A.M."
"Hey, I'm older 'n you, faerie," she complains, still laughing, and pulls it back towards her.
Astrid laughs, too, and claps her hands. "That's beautiful, Kit," she says. "I wonder if we've got some fox ancestry, somewhere mixed in. My little Noah's the only Wolf I've ever seen do something similar." She glances at Monty. "And look at you, Montreal – bringing home such a pretty little thing. Who'd've thought?"
"Mom," Monty hisses, and rolls his eyes, but I don't mind at all.
I've never felt so much a part of anything, much less a family.
Monty turns his eyes to the empty chair at Freya's side.
"Sasha's not up yet?" he asks.
"No, poor thing," Astrid answers, sighing as her humor slips away. "She came into our room last night, to talk to us, but she's hurting something bad. She might not have been Mated to that man, but she was sure in love with him."
"How does that happen?" Dane asks, twisting his coffee cup between his hands. "I mean... Was he her Mate? Or..."
Astrid lifts a shoulder and sips her cup of tea. "The Mate-bond is a mysterious thing," she says. "One Chooses one's Mate, or accepts the mate that is Chosen by one's Alpha. Love is something different. Now, I can attest that when the two coincide – true Love and Chosen Mate – it's something you just know inside."
She presses a hand to the base of her ribs.
"On the other hand, it's not all smooth sailing. Your father and I have had our fights, and our disagreements, over the years. There was one time we didn't speak for near six months. But neither of us ever dreamed of leaving the other. Not really."
She points her fork at me and narrows her eyes.
"Now, love, on the other hand, is a slippery word. A deceitful, trickstery word. It can mean just about anything you can twist it to mean. 'I love my dog.' 'I love to read.' 'I love my wife.' What do each of those phrases mean? Plenty a good woman has fallen in love with a bad man who acted things out just right."
"Amen to that," Freya agrees, and downs the last of her sparkly orange drink.
My ears prick upwards, swiveling towards the window as they pick up the approach of a new sound. A low rumble in the distance; an engine that needs repair.
"Someone's coming," I say, sitting up and hugging Luca to my chest.
Everyone else goes still. Even in human form, their senses are sharp, and they soon pick up the same thing I have.
With a clatter of dropped utensils and scraped chairs, everyone rises and goes to the big, wide windows, which give a view of the driveway out front.
With bated breath, we wait, and I sense both Dane and Monty readying themselves for a fight – to protect everyone else. Meanwhile, the air around Julian shimmers and crackles with its own light – with something that can only be called magick.
At the far end of the field, where the trees are so far off they appear small – like miniatures on a train set – a white object comes into view.
It's long and boxy, and bounces to its own rhythm as it seems to hit every pothole in the road.
Freya covers her face with her hands.
"Oh, lords. Fuck me."
"Freya!" Astrid chides, pretending offense. "Honestly."
"What is it?" Joseph asks, coming over with a plate of eggs in either hand and leaning between me and Monty to look out. "We got visitors?"
The white, oblong rectangle continues its approach, and as it comes into view, I recognize it as an older model of RV. It rumbles along and finally comes to a stop parked lengthwise across the road. A moment later, a man gets out, wearing a gray top hat and a coat with tails. He looks around himself a moment as if lost, and squints up towards the sun.
Then he sets his eyes on the house, produces a walking stick from somewhere, and saunters up the drive towards the front door.
Astrid turns towards her daughter.
"Freya? That's our old RV, isn't it? So... who is this?"
"It's just Darius," she groans. "Darius L'Amour."
"Darius, eh?" Joseph asks, leaning on Monty's arm. "And have I met this particular gentleman before?"
"No, daddy." Freya shakes her head as the doorbell rings. "But you're about to."