by Tamar Sloan
Some p.eople think pines are all the same. Rows upon rows of identical soldiers, indistinguishable from one another, lacking identity or uniqueness. But the forest around us is alive in individuality. Each tree a unique constellation of branches and needles, each one hosting its own colony of mosses, insects, birds and mammals. Everywhere microcosms can be found within microcosms.
When you look at it that way, all of a sudden the forest becomes an irreplaceable, limitless place of wonder. I point out warblers and flycatchers, the squirrels and even a badger, Noah slowing down so we can watch them for a few precious moments. The redundant need to speak means we barely disturb them.
Until they see the enormous white wolf, for all intents and purposes an intimidating predator, walking with a human sitting on his back. It confuses some animals, and they freeze, staring. It frightens others, and they disappear into the never-ending trees in a flash.
As the sun approaches the tips of the trees, I know we need to find somewhere to camp. Noah’s ears prick back, telling me he heard. His head tips up, eyes scanning as we both keep a look out for somewhere to stop for the night.
We see it at the same time. The trees open out as we reach another stream. This one slow moving, the clear water curving over pebbles in cool greys of clouds and mist, dawn and dusk. It’s a small clearing, riparian grass thick and lush, just waiting for a tent to be pitched, lichen-covered rocks waiting to oversee a campfire.
I slide off, feet hitting the soft ground. A cool breeze tangles with my hair, whispering ‘tonight will be a cold one.’ I look up; the sky is mottled with the forecasted bearers of rain. I rub my arms; the temps will drop quickly once the sun disappears behind the pines.
Noah changes before I get a chance to ogle. He slips his arms around me, smelling of sandalwood warmed by the sun and a faint metallic scent, the scent that always lingers after a change. I sink into the welcome warmth, slipping my arms around his waist, tipping my head up to look at that beautiful face.
Warm palms cup my face as Noah leans down. Wind-kissed lips touch mine, so softly, so gently. I suck in a breath, Noah filling my lungs, love filling my heart, and I can’t tell if it’s his or mine. My hands come up to mirror his, my mouth opens beneath his. The kiss is long and deep, touching me somewhere profound and beautiful.
Noah pulls back, and I’m lost in blue. “I love you more than I ever thought possible.”
I touch those warm lips. “I love you more than I ever dreamed possible.”
They’re the first words we’ve spoken since we left the helicopter. I make a concerted effort to memorize those glowing summer eyes, soft just-kissed lips, warm palms framing my face, the sincerity and adoration that enfolds me.
Maybe we could just stay like this for the rest of the night…week…our lifetime.
That breeze, the one that won’t let winter go, gusts again, grabbing at my pullover. We’re going to have to stay like this, because the minute I leave Noah’s embrace, goose bumps are inevitable.
“I’ll go find some firewood?”
I smile. “I’ll set up the tent.”
Noah heads for the trees, where an abundance of branches and twigs litter the forest floor. I pull out the tent from the backpack, the one I bought especially for this trip. State of the art, the two-person tent packs into a bag smaller than a sleeping bag, unfolding into a yellow, dome-shaped home in a few short minutes.
I pull out the sleeping bags, two micro-fiber pellets that spring out to thick, warm duvets. I look in the tent, for the first time today biting my lip. I know how much Noah eats, which meant there was no room for sleeping mats in the single backpack. But the ground still holds the cold bite of winter. Plus, Noah and I, two separate caterpillars, is not how I saw this.
With a shaky breath, I unzip the two blue, puffy bags, not sure what I’m communicating. Not sure what I want to communicate. I spread one out, creating a soft, thin mattress. I spread the second one out, creating a warm, intimate double bed.
I zip up the tent, keeping out unwanted insects, concealing our sleeping arrangements, just as Noah enters the clearing, an armful of wood stacked up to his chin. I look up at the tree line; the sun just hugs the jagged, green edge, meaning we have a little while before dinner.
The happy, light feeling that has me filled with helium gives me an idea. It’s time to have some fun. I give him a very Phelan grin and get a puzzled one in response. “I’ve never played hide and seek.”
And then I run. A few strides and I’m in the trees, ducking and weaving further into the shadowy depths. I quickly spot a large, old spruce, and I slip around it and stand still, forcing slow breath, ears pricked for sound.
I wonder how long it will take Noah to find—
“You know my dad works in search and rescue.” Two hands hit the bark on either side of my head, Noah’s smiling face fills my vision.
He leans a little closer, and a metallic scent fills my nose. “You cheated!”
“Love and war, baby. Apparently, anything goes.”
I narrow my eyes on his dark blond hair and blue-eyed, grinning face. “Is that so?”
“Ya ha.”
I duck beneath the arms that I want to hold me forever, sprinting to the trees, heading deeper into the forest. “Count to ten. And no shifting!” I see a thick patch of pines ahead. “Make that twenty.”
Noah’s voice follows me. “Whatever head start you need, babes.”
Babes? Cocky Noah is kinda sexy.
This time I keep my run light-footed, disturbing as little as possible, calling through my mind as I go. It appears Orin’s talk was timely.
At the stand of trees, I duck behind one, not the largest, but wide enough to hide me. There I close my eyes and let the music flow.
It’s only a couple of minutes before I hear heavy steps crunching through the forest. I smile; I figured it wouldn’t take long for him to find me.
I peek around the tree to see Noah standing amongst the pines, his back to me, turning slowly. I duck back around as his face comes around, in time to see his eyes closed, lips smiling, and a confident step about to happen.
“Ouch.”
I have to stifle a giggle, peeking again, to see Noah rubbing his head and looking up at the canopy. I bite my top lip this time, having to work at keeping the laughter in. I move around slightly to the left, keeping the tree at my back.
I glance up at the trees myself, nodding, the smile growing even wider.
More crunching footsteps heading my way. “Ow!”
This time I hear the pinecone connect with Noah. I glance around the trunk again to see Noah rubbing his shoulder. He looks left then right, eyes narrowed. He’s starting to figure it out. “Love and war, hey?”
You said it…babes.
Striding steps start moving toward me, telling me he knows exactly where I am.
Now!
I step around the tree, ready to run, to see Noah under a deluge of nuts and cones, a family of squirrels in the branches above him, chattering and leaping. They throw then jump, throw then jump. One brave little cherub leaps, and Noah ducks reflexively as the little ball of fur lands on his shoulder, in a split second leaping again into a nearby tree.
I can’t contain my laughter as it spills out, the sight of big, blond Noah under siege from a squadron of cheeky fur balls is something I wish I could film. I use the opportunity to run again, lining up another hiding tree.
“Hey! Talk about not fair.”
Those fast footsteps are behind me again, and I know I won’t make it, particularly when laughter makes my knees weak and eyes wet. I duck left, imitating the elk we saw earlier in the day, then suddenly right.
But my maneuvering is no match for the predatory intent behind me, and a few frenzied steps later I feel strong arms band around me. I let out a Tara-like squeal and twist, inadvertently losing balance.
My eyes widen as our trajectory changes from forward to down, then my breath hitches as Noah spins us with split-second timing, an
d instead of landing on the pine-littered ground, I land on a solid warm body. There’s no time to absorb the delicious sensation because Noah twists, and in the blink of an eye I’m on the ground, a laughing, blue-eyed, leaf-littered face above me.
I grin up at him. “You said it, anything goes.”
Happy eyes narrow down at me. “I wonder what else you haven’t tried.”
My heart stutters, considering stopping altogether. My lips part, but I can’t think of a retort. What?
His grin widens until I can see those pearly teeth come out to chew his bottom lip in thought. I’m captured and mesmerized. He angles his head. “Like…are you ticklish?”
I blink. “I don’t think so.”
Strong fingers are on my ribs in an instant, wriggling up and down, playing them like a frenzied piano. All of a sudden I’m squirming, twisting, squealing, and doing everything I can to escape them. But I’m trapped beneath the mass of muscle above me, helpless and choking on laughter.
All of a sudden Noah stops. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes.” I’m all breathless and giggles, happy and laughing.
“Thought so.” Those delicious summer eyes narrow again. “Does that make me the winner?”
I huff. “I don’t think so.”
And he starts again. Unrelenting fingers dancing over my ribs, wrenching more helpless laughter from my trapped body. My hands try to push his away, but every time they find them those nimble fingers fly to the other side, keeping up the merciless torture.
“Stop, stop. Okay, you win. You win!”
Noah sits back, his own breathing a little puffed, like that was more work than our run. He’s smiling as he pulls me upright. “I hope you learned your lesson, young lady. Cheaters never prosper.”
I skip away. “I wouldn’t call that a loss.”
Noah comes up beside me, and I don’t have to look at him to know how he’s feeling. I can’t miss the joy and light that is practically glowing from him.
His arm comes around my shoulder, and I snuggle in for the walk back to the campsite. “Best birthday present ever.”
“And it’s not even my birthday.”
Noah chuckles, squeezing me for a moment. I hold him tight right back.
We start walking back, the sky holding the indigo of almost-twilight, the breeze gone, leaving behind tranquility and coolness.
Back at the campsite, I watch as Noah efficiently creates a stack from the wood he collected, small twigs at the bottom, thicker sticks at the top. He strikes a match; a few gentle breaths later and the first flames of a fire come to life.
I collect our dinner from the bag, canned soup, beef hotpot for Noah, chunky vegetable for me, and the solid loaf of rye bread that I banked wouldn’t get demolished by our run through the forest. Two spoons and I’ve set the table.
When I return, Noah sits back, a merry fire crackling a few feet away. I stop, soup, bread, and spoons clutched to my chest, taking another memorizing moment.
One leg bent, an arm resting across it as he leans on a rock, Noah is breathtaking in the twilight. Light dances across his body, so rounded and casual, but one I know is hard and sculpted. Red and orange flames caress his features, finding the blond highlights in his hair, sharpening the contrast of his angles and planes. My fingers tighten around the silver cans, wanting to touch everywhere the light touches. Wanting to explore everywhere it doesn’t.
I walk away from the tent behind me, toward the one I’ll be sharing it with.
23
Noah
What an amazing way to spend a day with my girl. There’s something magical about Eden and me together. It’s always there, the feeling that this is so right, but it’s intensified, strengthened when we run. We’re far more connected, in tune, when I’m a wolf and she’s carving the wind with me. I can feel everything between us, so pure, so true, and it settles my soul in a way nothing else can. Or ever will.
Like it’s fated.
Or prophesized…
The thought startles me, and I still. Then it makes me shift a little, the rock behind me digging into my back. Tara and Mitch’s words, the ones that haven’t really left my mind, swim the forefront. Is it possible?
Eden heads over, hair loose and wild from our run, body caressed by the fire, and passes me dinner. I open the two cans then sit them at the edge of the fire. She sits beside me then shuffles over until her side is flush with mine. I wrap my arm around her shoulder, pulling her even closer. With a sigh that calls to my masculine pride, she rests her head on my shoulder.
“Thank you.”
She’s thanking me? “This was your present, remember?”
She smiles, her eyes staring into the fire. “It may have been a little self-serving.”
“You can be self-serving whenever you like.” I look around at our little slice of heaven. “How did you find this place?”
She shrugs. “I didn’t. I figured we’d find somewhere”—then snuggles in another micro-inch—“and we certainly did that.”
“I’m getting used to that.”
“To what?”
“You taking my expectations and throwing them to the wolves.”
Like when she found out Werewolves exist—Oh, you’re part mega-wolf you say? Sure, I’m cool with that. Then willing to go all public face and political for something she’s passionate about at Wyoming State. Not to mention the hostess with the mostess alter-ego when we were at the awards dinner. Eden’s not as shy or retiring as I’d prematurely concluded.
Maybe…
Eden blushes, a rosy glow I haven’t seen for a while. “If we aim a bit bigger next time, we could end up solving the global environmental crisis.”
I chuckle and she smiles. Right now, anything feels possible with Eden. I wonder if she feels it, too.
Maybe…
Pulling down her sleeve to cover her hand, Eden pulls the cans from the coals. She passes me a spoon and a chunk of bread. As silence descends with the twilight I wonder if it’s time to take a chance. I take a breath and decide to start from the beginning.
“Things seemed straightforward when I was growing up. Turn sixteen, change, train to be Alpha.” Find a mate, become the Alpha.
I pause, but Eden doesn’t say a word. Her breathing is so shallow, it’s almost non-existent.
My eyes return to the fire. “But I didn’t change, and I went from normal to freak. All of a sudden, I discovered what it was like to be different, to not fit it.”
To feel how Eden has felt all her life. I’m not sure if I pull her in closer, or if she snuggles closer, but we are melded side to side.
“But now I’m a Were, only because you made it possible, Eden, and I’m not sure what to do with it.” Or the Prophecy.
“Noah.” She stops, and I turn to her. The firelight is dancing in those tilted forest eyes, sureness radiates from their depths. “You were born to do this. It’s all in there.” She places a hand over my chest, my heart. The two parts of me she has changed forever. “I’m glad I got to be part of it.”
Her use of the past tense makes me pause. It’s the future I’m talking about.
I need to know. I want to tell her.
“Eden, I’m guessing this a cliché somewhere, someplace, but I’m nothing without you. My life started with you, and a future worth dreaming isn’t possible without you in it.”
Those eyes light up with a flame far brighter than the blazing fire beside us. “Noah.”
Hope flares hot and hard. I need so little encouragement right now. “Eden, will you…you…” I falter, but the intensity in her eyes keeps me going. “I want you to be mine, to stay with me Eden, Were, Alpha heir, and…” My breath suspends for a second, the fire flickers, her eyes never waver. That feeling that I thought was gone rises, tightens around my throat. I swallow, “…all?”
Eden’s mouth practically pops open, and I wonder if I’ve gone too quick, all of a sudden glad I haven’t said the rest. Her hand, the one that trembles ever so slightly,
comes up to cup my face. “Noah, a life without you is a life without light.”
Hope explodes, happiness blazes, until nothing else has room to breathe. I’m gonna take that as a yes.
We kiss, and although we’ve kissed so many times before, this time is special. This is the first time I’ve started to believe I can do this. We can do this.
That the Prime Prophecy might be possible.
I haul her in close, until you couldn’t fit an electron between us, so much emotion swirling through and around. She said yes. Mitch’s face takes that moment to intrude, all stern and serious. I push it away, no one wants their twin in on their special moment, the moment their future is mapped out in the direction they desperately want. There’ll be time to go over the logistics…tomorrow.
The fire has died down in the time I’ve laid my heart out, and a little shiver runs down Eden’s body. I glance at the tent, knowing we should go to bed, where we’ll be warm in our sleeping bags. In that little yellow bubble of enclosed space. Where it’ll be dark and intimate. After a magical day of running, right after she’s said she’d commit to an Alpha heir.
Uh oh.
She shivers then snuggles again. You know what? I can do this. Eden has given me so much more than I hoped for today. She’s given me…hope. A hug, a sweet kiss, maybe three of four more; I’m only Were for Pete’s sake, then I get to sleep with Eden in my arms. Two microfiber caterpillars in love.
With that image, I look at her fire-kissed face. “Why don’t we go to bed? It’ll be warmer in the sleeping bags.”
“Yes, it will.”
Something in Eden’s tone warms my blood. Cool it, big guy.
Hand in hand we cover the few steps to the tent. Eden unzips it and as the yellow curtain falls away, I see what caused that husky note.
The soft, solitary bed has my mind stalling and my pulse rocketing.
“There was no room for sleeping mats, and I figured we’d be warmer…”
She’s right. Eden would turn into a caterpillar icicle sleeping on the ground without something keeping her warm. And that something should be me.