Morgan
Daxand I spent the day watching Lupa and Leveret. Time flew as we babysat and it was the most fun I’d had in ages—both because I was hanging out with kids, and because I was spending time with Dax. I’d never been popular in my herd so it was a pleasant change to socialize freely, especially with someone who I knew cared about me.
While they slept, Dax and I leaned against each other peacefully, simply enjoying the fresh air. After the kids roused from their little nap, they were fresh and ready to play again. Soon Lupa was tugging on her uncle Dax with a furrowed brow.
“Potty,” she whispered.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Go and do it,” Dax replied encouragingly.
“Okay!”
She shifted into her wolf form and bounded over the hill. As a human, she wasn’t very agile, but that all changed the moment she transformed. It always amazed me how vulnerable and fragile human children were compared to young ones in our animal forms. Deer shifter fawns were always up and walking within hours, but the moment they shifted into human form they were little squishy flesh blobs.
“I don’t know how humans do it,” I said to Dax. We both averted our eyes as Lupa finished her business out of sight.
Dax grinned. “Do what? There’s a lot of things they do that I don’t understand.”
“Raising babies without shifting.”
“No clue.” Dax shrugged. “Me and my brothers grew up in a pack that leaned more towards our natural side. Not many of them used human products, like diapers and things. We did everything the old-fashioned way—as wolves.” He laughed. “It’s a lot easier to keep your butt clean as an animal than a human!”
I laughed along because it was true. “My herd was pretty similar. They spent most of their time in deer form. Generally, the kids will pop back and forth, but the culture frowned on it as they grew up.”
Dax made a disapproving click of the tongue. “That’s not right. Shifting is in our blood. Having a preference is fine, but it should be our choice. Not hinging on what everyone else says is right.”
I smiled as he spoke and let out a sigh I didn’t know I’d been holding. “That’s a freeing way to think.”
He frowned in sympathy. “It seems normal to me. But after meeting you and Len, and hearing that other shifters act differently… It’s a shock.” He turned to face me, his eyes thick with emotion. “I’m glad you’re here with us, Morgan. With me.”
A warm, fuzzy feeling wormed its way into my stomach. “Me too.”
Dax smiled but it was cautious around the edges. “What did you mean earlier? When you said you were staying for now?” His voice lowered and I heard the pain in it. “Do you still intend on leaving?”
“Oh, Dax.” Only when he brought it up did I realize he misunderstood me. I rubbed my hand over his reassuringly and shook my head. “I just misspoke. I was trying to be polite and not overstay my welcome, but I guess it came out rude in the end.”
Dax sighed in relief. “You’re not rude.” His grip on my hand tightened. “I just don’t want to lose you now that you’re in my life.”
There was still a tiny seed of doubt that I was imposing on the pack, but every moment with Dax and his family helped to alleviate it. These people weren’t like my herd. They were kind and generous, and in a way, they were all misfits, too. I fit right in here. I promised to remind myself of that if my thoughts strayed into doubt again.
And besides that, the idea of leaving Dax now…
I suppressed a shudder of horror. After our amazing night, there was a possibility I was pregnant. It thrilled me just to think about it. Everything I always wanted was in my grasp—all I had to do was stop running away and just grasp it.
Lupa came running down the hill as a wolf cub with her tongue hanging out. She bypassed us and ran headfirst into Leveret, who jolted awake as a hare. They got into a playful wrestling match which dissolved into tag. Dax and I both smiled as we watched them.
As cute as they were, I was getting tired just watching them play. No wonder Len needed a nap.
“Just out of curiosity,” Dax began, a coy grin on his face, “how many kids do deer shifters usually have?”
I snorted. “Two at the most, but that’s rare. Usually just one.”
“Good. One is manageable.” He chuckled. “Two seems like a nightmare for two old guys like us.”
“We are not old,” I argued. Then I thought of the logistics of raising two infants at the same time and balked. “But er, yes, let’s aim for one.”
He laughed again. “That’s up to nature now.” He glanced down at my belly, which obviously hadn’t changed since last night. “Deer gestation is around six months, right? Is it the same for shifters?”
“Yes. You sure are interested for a man who’s only curious,” I teased.
