Page 64 of Poet & Protector

“If you don’t know what I’m talking about it’s important we have another conversation,” he added. “Do we need to have that conversation, Nev?”

“For fuck’s sake, Caleb, I know how—” I began and looked up to glare at him, only to discover he was grinning.

“Nice,” I growled. “Thanks, asshole.”

“Come on.” He kept grinning. “You know I can’t make this too easy for you. It’s a rite of passage.”

“It’s not easy!” I complained. “I can’t set up a romantic night with a fancy dinner and a hotel room because the Keepers track all our purchases. And that’s not even factoring in the problem that we can’t be seen together. I’m stuck. I want to plan a date for Winter Solstice. Surprise him with something special. He deserves that. He deserves more. I want…I want to give him everything. But I don’t know how I can make it happen.”

I dropped my face into my hands and groaned. I’d been thinking about this a lot. More like obsessing. With the holiday break coming up and three weeks off school, Mason and I would suddenly have something we rarely did: unscheduled time.

“That’s really sweet,” Caleb remarked.

“If you start laughing again, I’ll punch you,” I said, without looking up at him.

“I’m not laughing.” He wasn’t. “And I think I can help you out.”

I lifted my head, surprised. “Seriously? I kind of resigned myself to this being a rant about my sexual frustration.”

He laughed then, but I didn’t mind.

“Can you really help?”

With a smirk, Caleb said, “Give me some dates for when you’d like this surprise to happen and let me talk to Tom. Then we’ll make a plan.”

* * *

Tom and Caleb’s Cabin

December

The sun dropped behind the mountain when the cabin came into sight, but purple dusk still clung to the sky and it was easy to make out the small structure. My heart did a little flip.

When Tom described this place to me, it sounded ideal. It was better than I’d imagined. It was perfect.

Nev, are you sure you’re not lost? Mason asked. I’ve never been to this part of the mountain. We’re way outside both pack ranges.

That’s intentional, I told him. Come on.

I trotted toward the cabin and knew the moment Mason spotted the little house because he pulled up short.

What is that?

The structure was simple. A hand-built, rustic log cabin. I’d learned from Tom that it had originally been a hunting shack he’d inherited, along with its surrounding acreage, when he’d purchased the Burnout from Bruce. Tom and Caleb had kept the shell of the original building but gutted it and added a small addition to transform the bare bones, one-room cabin with only an outhouse into a cozy one-bedroom, one-bath retreat they kept for occasional personal use but mostly rented to tourists.

The cabin was remote, which was part of its appeal for more adventurous visitors, but while it was fairly accessible in warmer seasons, when winter arrived the site could only be reached by snowmobile. Or wolf.

Come on, I said again, trotting around Mason to nip at his flank.

Hey!

My tongue lolled out of my mouth as I dashed past him toward the cabin, nerves and anticipation sparking beneath my fur.

A small porch framed the front of the building. I shifted forms and walked up the steps, knocking snow off my boots.

“Nev?” Mason had also shifted and was watching me from a few steps away. “Are you breaking into this cabin? Why are you breaking into someone’s cabin?”

I stepped to the side to show him I was punching in the lock code. “Does this look like breaking in?”