Asher told me this wasn’t a decision he’d arrived at easily, but after giving it much thought and talking to the den, hearing thereasons for and against, they’d taken a vote. I was impressed the majority were willing to take a chance on me, especially with my dragon mate carrying dragon eggs. That was a leap for many shifters who’d never met a dragon before Ford, and all polar bear omegas gave birth to live babies. Eggs were a new concept.
My mate hadn’t found a flight, or he had but not one that accepted him andme. I was ready to dismiss the den offer but had to consult Ford. Like me, he was cautious, but his face lit up as we discussed what it would mean for our family.
He cradled his bump. “Our child will grow up in a community. Remember the saying, ‘it takes a village.’”
“How would you adjust to living with polar bears?” I couldn’t imagine a pairing more extreme. Ford and I had made it work, but we were fated, and the den members had little in common with a dragon.
But it wasn’t just Ford who had to be okay with the move. I’d left the den and never intended to return. So after Ford and I agreed this was what we wanted, my beast needed to shift and consider what it would mean for him.
He took to the sea before roaming an ice floe, catching fish and wondering how our life would change. Like me, he’d enjoyed not answering to a den and didn’t want his freedom curtailed. I was of the same mind. But we’d benefited from not severing the connection with the den, so perhaps it was time to give something in return.
This is what Ford wants, he said.
Yeah, though my mate wouldn’t have agreed to the move if I’d been against it. Memories flooded back of Asher’s stepfather andhow he treated the den as his personal piggybank and expected the members to do his bidding.
But Ford and I would be starting anew, and Asher was nothing like his late stepfather. As Alpha, Asher had transformed the den to where everyone had a say in the decision-making.
Being mated required compromise. The den wasn’t a flight, and Ford wouldn’t have fellow dragons to fly and burn stuff with. I wouldn’t be living a life where I had only myself to answer to. But the Beta position was a leadership role, which involved learning new skills, and I was up for that.
“Hello, new life.” Ford bounced on his seat. His enthusiasm was infectious, and I bobbed up and down as I drove.
There was no fanfare when we arrived, and I drove directly to the cabin that had been assigned to us. It was smaller than ours, but Asher had had it built and furnished especially for us.
Though Ford was still at his job in town and he had the day off because we were moving, I wasn’t so fortunate. I took our suitcases into the cabin and kissed my mate goodbye, telling him I’d see him this evening.
It helped that I’d grown up in this den and knew the old-timers who didn’t like change. And I understood who needed more help than the rest of the polar bear shifters. Without Asher needing to tell me, I checked on Athena who was raising her two grandsons. They were typical teens who spent a lot of time looking at screens and had to be cajoled into doing chores.
They were at school when I reached their cabin, and the woodpile needed restocking, so I spent thirty minutes chopping firewood and stacking it against the cabin. She waved from the window as I strode away.
People waylaid me as I headed to what would be my office.
“So glad you accepted the position.”
“Alpha will appreciate your help.”
“Can you ask Alpha something for me?”
And that was kind of how most days began.
The thing nobody told you about being Beta, I was discovering, was that it was mostly administration and lists, lots of them.
It wasn’t dramatic, such as standing at the Alpha's shoulder during territorial disputes or the late-night conversations about the den's future, though those happened too.
Mostly it was about being proactive, anticipating a need before it became critical. Who needed what, what was running low, and who had a problem they hadn't brought to Asher yet but would bring to me because they didn’t want to bother Alpha, at least not yet.
The new fish-drying facility was going up on the cleared ground behind the processing building, and I swung by the site before the work crew arrived. I’d helped lay the foundation myself weeks ago. I walked the perimeter, checking the base where the frame met the foundation, looking for any movement or settling.
The south-facing wall panels were due for installation this week—once those were up, the crew could start on the roof. Asher wanted it running by the first week of July. The new members of the processing crew were being trained, which wasn’t my responsibility, thank gods.
Though I still had commitments outside of the den, and they had to be honored. Once they were complete, I wouldn’t acceptany outside projects. And though I was proud of being the go-to builder in the area, I was ready to put that work aside and focus on my new position.
Two of the den's young adults, a brother and sister, were waiting for me at the communal fire pit. They’d been arguing and had agreed to let someone else settle it. Lucky me ‘cause I was that someone.
“Whatever it is,” I said, “tell me one at a time.”
They both started talking, and I stopped them and sat them on a bench. “What did I say?”
They bowed their heads and repeated what I’d told them.
