I shifted my focus to the battered tabletop between us, the fine hair on my arms prickling at the thought of what lay ahead. His attention to detail both steadied and overwhelmed me, a firm hand at the small of my back guiding me through unknown terrain. My pulse thrummed, blood-rushed in my ears loud enough to block out the restaurant noise until it was just the two of us at that table, our world defined by these written-down promises.
“I’ve never seen anyone write notes for this sort of thing before,” I said. A fond grin stretched my lips. “It’s cute.”
He gave me one of those dry chuckles. “Well, I’m known for cute.”
“Bronc! I’m serious.” I reached across the table to tap his fingers where they rested near the notepad. That felt better—anyexcuse to close the gap and touch him, connect with more than words and worry.
His hand turned, palm catching mine and squeezing once, tight. “Juliet, I want you to be prepared. To understand everything you’re facing.” He hesitated, the protective instinct coursing through him in waves. “There’s nothing more important.”
I should’ve expected that response, but still it brought a sting of feeling to my eyes, settling as a knot in my throat. There was so much I wanted to say. Like how every day with him was like being slowly rewired into something stronger and more certain than I ever thought I could be. How he had already given me more than I’d ever dreamed of.
The clink of glasses came through the ambient din as a waitress refilled our waters, her motions efficient and practiced. I looked at Bronc’s composed features, reading in the tightness of his mouth what he hadn’t said aloud: that this might break me instead. That I was a fragile human woman entering a world where flesh split, where bones twisted and reformed.
“Is it strange?” I asked, watching a drop of condensation snake its way down my water glass, “that I’m not scared?”
“Yes.” A small, genuine smile slipped across his features. “But that’s just you.”
His conviction had weight, settling into my chest like something solid and real. I knew I could hold on to it even when his voice was miles away and it came time to face this shift. The thought lit my nerves on fire. I’d never been one to stand on my own, always a careful extension of someone else, their desires carving out my path. First my parents, then the sorry excuse of a man I’d almost married because it was what was expected of me. Being here, on the edge of everything and on the brink of knowing myself, was a dream I didn’t know how to hold.
“Your wolf is getting restless already,” Bronc said, tapping his temple like he could feel her, too. His grin was still lingering atthe corners of his mouth, blue eyes sparking with a hint of pride. “That’s a good sign.”
The quiet certainty in his words sank in deep, and I let myself relax against the leather of the booth, the smell of greasy food enveloping me in a strange sense of comfort. This was Dairyville, a place I would’ve mocked years ago but now embraced with every part of my being. And this was Bronc, larger than life, full of wisdom that only age could give, brimming with hope and hesitancy as he guided me into a reality neither of us could fully predict.
I exhaled, letting go of everything except this moment and the electric anticipation of what was coming. “I’m glad you’re doing this with me,” I said, a soft admittance of the fear that coiled beneath all my bravado.
“Not doing it any other way,” he replied, and I knew he meant it.
The reflection of Pearl’s neon sign flickered through the window, adding a strange glow to his determined features. All my life I’d been afraid of uncertainty, but now I reveled in it, my heart running wild even before my wolf got the chance.
“I must be the luckiest girl in Texas.” I half-teased, my voice breaking with breathless emotion as I leaned closer to him, my chin resting in my hands.
“You’re definitely something.”
“Excited?”
“Crazy.”
The sudden lightness in his tone lifted my spirits even further, and I let out a laugh that felt loud and raw against the evening’s muted backdrop. I couldn’t be sure if this feeling would last, if it would survive the first sharp edge of pain or uncertainty, but for now, it was everything. The presence I’d sensed stirred more insistently, and it filled me with hope.
I tapped my fingers on the worn wood, watching as Bronc gathered himself and settled more comfortably into the moment,the way he always did when my excitement was too infectious to deny. Our future hung thick in the air, our unfinished plates as forgotten as the past we were leaving behind.
He tapped the notepad again, drawing my attention back to his notes. He hadn’t finished with my lesson on how my shift would go.
“You’ll be naked under your robe, joining the pack for a ritual of transformation.” Bronc’s voice was calm, too calm, for the storm these words summoned. I swallowed hard and looked out the window as he continued, soft flares of color licking at the horizon like an echo of my pounding heart. The night of the full moon. Highest peak. His instructions were delicate and sure as a surgeon’s knife, the stakes high and edged with worry. I held on, listening to how my bones would shift, how my wolf would rise. He leaned forward, a hand brushing my wrist, and the touch sparked through me like wildfire. This would test us both. My breath caught, the enormity of what lay ahead barreling in with dizzying force.
“We don’t think of nudity the way humans do.” His reassurance unfurled like the smoke from my father’s cigars, a familiar comfort.
A knot of tension tangled its way through me. The thought of being so vulnerable, so exposed, hit hard, but I knew that to the pack, I would be just another wolf. And Bronc would be there. That single fact settled like a balm on raw nerves. Still, my voice wavered as I responded.
“I’m not sure about the robe, Bronc.”
He reached for his coffee, wrapping a strong hand around the white mug, and smiled in a way that was both wicked and soft. “Your modesty is safe with me, darlin’. My eyes will be the only eyes on your perfect body that night.”
My lips twitched at the corners, and the tension eased its grip just enough to let his confidence bleed through. It didn’t take longfor this assurance to take hold, this stark contrast to the shadows I’d lived in before. Already I was getting used to it.
“I still don’t know how you all do it,” I said, marveling at the freedom these shifters lived with, the shamelessness.
His smile turned fond, a proud glint lighting his eyes. “It’s who we are.”
