I follow him up, and after we bid Phin a quick goodbye and gather his keys, Gael drives us to Phin’s house. It’s across town in a gated neighborhood, and when we arrive, there are so many different animals in the streets. Gael drives carefully, but as he passes the animals, they fall in line behind his truck and follow us all the way to Phin’s place.
“What is happening?” I whisper, almost afraid to get out of the truck.
“Arden Mathan was the species leader for shifters,” Gael explains grimly. “All shifters, not just the bears, and he kept his immediate clan close. There’s a population of nearly eight hundred shifters in this neighborhood. They’re here because I killed their leader and they don’t know what to do with themselves. Ignore them for now. I’ll figure out how to deal with them when they have the ability to speak again.”
We exit the truck and head into Phin’s house. He said he was all packed up, but there’s only about fifteen boxes stacked in neat rows near the front door. A quick survey of the rest of the house reveals a lot of furniture, empty closets and drawers, and not much else. He really did pack up, but he never planned to bring the stuff we don’t need.
Gael and I grab a couple boxes each and start hauling. It’s strange to walk out of his house to the sight of a crowd of wild animals of so many varieties. We don’t have any interaction with them except that they watch us move Phin out of his house and we try not to trip over some of the curious babies.
As soon as we pack the last box into the truck and secure the load with some straps Phin keeps in the back, Gael tells everyone we’re leaving and to clear the road. The shifters move out of the way, and soon we’re back home.
I open the door and smile at the sight of Phin in his human form, wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else. He showered and prepared a simple dinner of sub sandwiches with pickles and chips.
“Look at you, back in human form,” Gael croons, pushing past me to our man and pulling him down for a heated kiss.
I follow his lead, kissing the hell out of Phin to assure him that no matter what form he’s in, he’s mine and I love him.
Gael gives him a rundown of our trip as we eat the supper he made. We stay up for a while talking about the problems with the oath of secrecy and how it really needs to change so that other people don’t run into the same problems that we’ve had, and then when Phin starts snoring in the middle of our discussion, we shuffle him to bed with us.
We’ll unpack tomorrow.
A bunny runs across my path as I’m following Phin into the house with a load, and I ask after we set the boxes down in the back bedroom, “How many different types of shifters are there?”
Gael makes a noise of curiosity, sorting through Phin’s clothing and putting away the season-appropriate casual wear along with his work clothes. We all worked today, but now that we’re home and together, we’re finally getting through the boxes Gael and I grabbed last night.
Phin shrugs. “I don’t know. There’s a database with the identity and shift-species of every shifter born, but my mother found a colony of shifter mice in Chile last year that had never been documented. They shift from people about two feet tall into mice, and spend most of their lives in their animal shifts because it’s easier to survive in their burrows than it is tocreate civilization for their biped size. I think as a species we’ve discovered ten new shifter subclasses in my lifetime. I can’t tell you how many different shift-species there are because we honestly don’t know. Some of our researchers have theorized that magic is making new subclasses all the time.”
“That’s interesting, and I wonder why magic would do that. Maybe it’s just keeping up with evolution?” I wonder.
“That’s as reasonable a guess as anything,” Gael agreed thoughtfully.
Phin and I head back to his truck for the last of the boxes. I stop him when we get there, pushing him up against the side panel and pressing our bodies together. He smells like clean sweat and his beard oil as I dig my fingers into his hair and pull him into a messy kiss.
He’s moving in with me and letting his house go. That’s a rush for me. Heat builds between us, and I press in closer until?—
I break away, certain that we’re giving the neighborhood a show it doesn’t deserve to witness.
“Welcome home,” I whisper, pressing another kiss to his luscious pink lips.
Phin’s eyes crinkle at the corners, and his arms around me tighten. “Thank you.”
I linger in his arms for another moment before stepping away to grab the last load of boxes. “I’ve been marinating ribs all day. We’re going to have barbecue lettuce wraps. I’ve made plenty of sides to go with. It’s a celebration dinner for us.”
Phin follows me back into the house, and we leave the rest of his boxes in the back room. We’ll have to go through his things and find space for them, but Gael seems to have a plan for how to fit us all into this house, and since his last plan for fitting us together worked out perfectly, I’m inclined to let him tell us what to do.
“Should I go get wine or maybe we can make cocktails?” Phin asks, and Gael’s ears perk up.
“Wine for what?” he asks.
“We’re celebrating our first night cohabitating,” I reply, wrapping an arm around my boyfriend, the big one who sometimes turns into a bear, not the one who consumes my sex energy because I taste the best to him.
This is my life, and it’s so much stranger than I expected, even after Gael told me that he’s a mare.
Gael’s smile makes my heart explode with happiness. It doesn’t matter if it’s an affectation of his magic—I love that he fills my life with unwavering happiness. I can’t imagine a life where his smile doesn’t make me feel like this; a life without his joy wouldn’t be worth living.
Gael straightens from the crouch he’d been in to put Phin’s clothes away and joins us, pulling Phin down for a kiss just like I did. I watch them for three seconds before the doorbell chimes through the house, interrupting what could have become a fun little diversion.
I squeeze both of their asses and head to the front of the house. I reach for the door handle and pull just as Phin makes an aborted noise of protest. On the stoop, a woman as large as Phin with similar coloring stands, holding a cake box. She smiles warmly at me. “I’m Felicity, Phineas’ sister. You must be Sin.”
