“I’m Freid,” the one with the shirt that had seen better days said. “And this is Ty.”
“Penn.” Why was I giving them my name?
They continued talking, but I couldn’t hear anything except my beast begging me to be set free. I refused, pushing him down. I needed to get out of here.
I tried to turn around to get in my car, but my dingo took over, forcing my shift and ripping my clothes. I should have been leaving or at the very least, running from them…getting away.
But no, my dingo decided in that moment to be a freaking golden retriever, running toward them, knocking them down, and licking their faces. How freaking embarrassing.
But it was also reassuring because, as scared as the human part of me was, my dingo had apparently been domesticated.
Chapter Seven
Ty
Penn. I loved that name. And he was adorable. It pained me badly when he ran from us.
When Freid and I had followed him into the parking lot, my tiger kept internally growling in frustration.
New mate doesn’t like us but I love him. Tell him. No hurt. Only love.
Freid and I had both probably come on strong as we pleaded with him in the kitchen, desperate to alleviate his fears. We knew nothing about him except he was our mate. Maybe he’d been through bad times. Maybe he didn’t trust alphas? That would be a terrible tragedy. We’d waited so long for him.
If anyone had paid attention to us out in the parking lot, it might’ve gone even more wrong. Two alphas chasing an omega didn’t look great at first glance.
But somehow, our voices and words were winning Penn over. One word,mates, was getting his attention. He eyes got wide and big. His mouth dropped open.
Before I could comprehend what was happening, pieces of torn clothing flew through the air and a beautiful dingo stood before us, head up, tongue lolling as he scampered toward us.
My instincts took over. I hit the pavement hard with my knees and opened my arms. Penn’s beast nearly bowled me over as his paws landed on my shoulders. He began to cover me with tongue kisses as I drew his quivering, furry body to mine.
I laughed as his kisses grew more frantic, tipping back until I couldn’t hold myself up. Now, I was covered by a wild dog who had decided I was quite lickable.
My laughter rang through the air. I couldn’t catch my breath. When I tried to push myself up, the dingo was gone,and I heard a commotion. Now, he was greeting Freid, who had also knelt on the asphalt. Freid started to giggle then make loud almost-honking sounds as Penn stood over him and licked whatever part of him he could reach.
Penn might have been anxious and afraid, but his beast wasn’t.
Still following instinct, I shouted, “We need to shift. It’ll be easier on Penn and satisfy our beasts. Mine is barely contained.”
Between breaths and kisses, Freid agreed. “Yes, let’s shift.”
I couldn’t wait one second longer. I jumped up and pulled off my wonderful new birthday present shirt. I set it on the hood of Penn’s car and kicked my shoes off. Off came my pants. When I turned, Freid was up. Both he and the dingo had calmed a little. They were staring. At me.
Let them, I thought. I wanted them to see me, both human and beast. I pushed my pants down and faced them, holding my arms out from my sides and letting my tiger free. As my beast took his fur, Freid started to undress.
The dingo came up to me and jumped back then forward again, sniffing all around my tiger body. My tiger stood still to let him have his scent. He purred. His paws pressed hard into the ground. He wanted to run but remained patient, whiskers flicking.
A large wolf came up alongside me, rubbing his side against mine. Then he circled and sniffed as well. I had two gorgeous canines as mates now. This was their way. My tiger understood.
Suddenly, the wolf and the dingo jumped up and ran. My tiger followed, loping gracefully to keep up. He could easily have outrun them, but this wasn’t about competition or a hunt. It was about the three of us learning to move as one. To sense each other as fated mates. To begin the bond that would take us into a future hopefully all three of us wanted.
We ran around the far side of the building where Freid and I knew the forest began. Neither of us had ever shifted together before. It had been like some unspoken agreement between us. But we knew where to go.
It was a beautiful late-summer night. Before heading into the trees, I saw a crescent moon rising in the east. The air smelled of pine and leaves—the coming of fall. Though some didn’t believe it, San Diego definitely had seasons. My tiger insisted each and every one smelled unique.
Penn kicked up a lot of dirt as he bolted ahead. His dingo had an energy not to be ignored.
I stopped to scratch at the trunk of a big tree then ran easily toward my mates. It felt great to stretch my muscles. My beast never stopped purring.
