I watched him drive around to the garage before I got into my own truck, still smiling for reasons I didn't want to examine.
This was friendship. Just two people who'd been through hell finding someone who understood. Nothing complicated about it.
Nothing complicated at all.
13
BLEEDING THROUGH
DANIEL
The cascade thundered over ancient rocks into a pool so clear you could count the stones at the bottom, mist rising in silver curtains that caught afternoon light and scattered it into rainbows. Sacred ground, this place. One of the old spots where pack magic ran thickest, where the boundary between wolf and forest blurred into something neither quite recognized as separate.
Nate sat on a flat boulder at the pool's edge, bare feet dangling in water that had to be freezing this time of year. His rust-colored hair caught the mist, darkening at the ends, and his eyes were closed, face tilted toward the spray like he was listening to something only he could hear.
I made noise as I approached. Not because I needed to, but because sneaking up on someone with Nate's instincts seemed like a good way to end up wrapped in vines or worse. The forest liked him. Protected him. And I'd learned the hard way not to startle things the forest had claimed as its own.
Nate's eyes opened. Storm-gray, like his father's, but shot through with green now since the change. He didn't seem surprised to see me.
“Daniel.” He pulled his feet from the water, tucked them under him. “Evan's at the mill. If you're looking for him.”
“I know where Evan is.” I settled onto a neighboring boulder, close enough for conversation but far enough to give him space. “I was looking for you.”
That got his attention. His eyebrows rose, curiosity replacing the peaceful contemplation. “Should I be worried?”
“Depends. Have you done something that warrants worry?”
“Not today.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Give me time, though. Day's still young.”
I snorted despite myself. This was what I appreciated about Nate. No dancing around topics, no careful deference because I was Alpha. Just straight talk delivered with enough edge to keep things interesting.
“How are you settling into the fur?” I asked. “The shift getting easier?”
“Some days.” He flexed his hands, studied them like he was still getting used to seeing human fingers instead of claws. “Other days I wake up and forget which shape I'm supposed to be in. Evan found me half-shifted in the shower last week. Fur from the waist down, human everything else.” He shuddered. “Not a good look.”
“It gets better. The first year is always rough.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.” He picked up a stone, turned it over in his fingers. “Can I ask you something? Might be out of line.”
“Ask.”
“When you turned your mate, was it like this? This constant negotiation between two selves?”
I went still. Most people didn't ask about Claire. Didn't dare bring her up around me, like her name was a wound that would start bleeding again if touched. But Nate wasn't most people.
“Claire was born wolf,” I said quietly. “She never had to learn. It was just... who she was.”
“Oh.” Nate looked down at the stone. “I'm sorry. I didn't know.”
“You couldn't have.” I watched the waterfall for a moment, letting the thunder of it fill the silence. “But to answer what you're really asking, yes. The negotiation is normal. Human and wolf aren't meant to share space. They have different wants, different instincts, different ways of seeing the world. Learning to make them work together takes time.”
“How much time?”
“Depends on the person. Some wolves find balance within months. Others take years.” I met his eyes. “You've got something most new wolves don't, though. The forest already knew you before the bite. That connection, that recognition... it should help.”
Nate was quiet for a moment, processing. Then: “Evan was terrified. When he bit me. He thought he was killing me.”
“He was saving you.”
