by Zoe Chant
“So then the guy turns into a bear,” he said, trying to keep the story to two or three sentences. “But that’s no problem – we’ve beaten bears before. So that’s how it happened.”
“Don’t be so modest,” Sasha interrupted him, shaking her head. “And aside from that, that wasn’t the last of it at all. Firstly, that bear was the biggest, meanest-looking bear I’ve ever seen in my life. Secondly, sure, Joe did beat the bear. But then, from what I understand, Colfax, Larssen, and one of their other men broke the rules of the fight, and attacked Joe themselves, in their shifter forms.”
“They what?” Mason had been listening intently before, without interrupting. But now, he sat up straight, slamming his hand down on the table with an enormous bang. “Those bastards. Where did they go? I swear I’ll –”
“Honey, shush,” Charity said mildly, patting his hand. “Let Joe and Sasha finish the story.”
Joe nodded, taking a sip of coffee while he considered how to explain. “That’s true. But… well, if I’d been alone, I would’ve been in trouble. But luckily Sasha was there to save my bacon. She wiggled free of her ropes somehow, and… well, when Larssen saw she was free, he made like he was going to attack her. But he’d brought a gun with him that he wasn’t supposed to have. Turned out to be pretty lucky for us, in the end.”
Joe felt Sasha go still, glancing at Mason as if trying to gauge how the sheriff would take that. But Mason was nodding in agreement. As if sensing Sasha’s apprehension, he said, “Clear-cut case of self-defense. And from a shifter perspective, he never should have had it there to begin with.” As if in afterthought, he added, “Did the little prick die?”
Joe shook his head. “Probably not – one bullet, in the shoulder. Not too bad. Not for a shifter.”
“Heath’s as good as new, after what happened to him a few weeks ago,” Mason agreed. He turned to Sasha, adding, “Heath, our bone-headed cousin you’ve yet to meet, managed to get himself shot earlier this month, after a bit of a to-do up in the city. He’s fine now. Usually it takes more than one bullet for a shifter. And they have to be in the right places.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” Sasha said, a small smile on her lips.
“You beat their alpha, son?”
It was his father’s voice that spoke up next, soft and low.
Joe turned to him, nodding. “Yeah. I did.”
Lincoln only nodded, sipping his coffee. “Hmm. What were your parting terms?”
“Colfax had to be replaced as alpha up the Blackwood Pack,” Joe told him. “And none of them were to set foot around here again. If there weren’t some changes to the way they did things, they’d all be branded rogues.”
Joe almost found himself holding his breath a little, waiting to see what his father said. He knew he’d be taking over as alpha of the Cedar Hill Ranch Pride one of these days, and that he had to be strong enough for the task. His father’s – his alpha’s – approval still meant a lot to him. If he approved of this, it was just another step towards Joe becoming the alpha he was meant to be.
For a short time during the journey back to the cabin, Joe had wondered if he hadn’t been a little harsh, threatening the Blackwood Pack with being declared rogues. Being a rogue meant being chased off any land you tried to settle on by the surrounding shifters – and never being allowed to join another pride or pack again. It was one of the harshest sentences a shifter could receive, with their natural attachment to home and family.
But now, Joe decided he’d done the right thing. Change needed to come from inside the pack, as well. If the Blackwood Pack realized the price of Colfax’s brutality and outlaw behavior could be their own land and families… perhaps they’d be less willing to see him anywhere near their pack or its leadership again.
Lincoln seemed to be considering what Joe had said, looking out the window at the far end of the room, to the snow swirling outside.
“You did good, son,” he finally said. “The right punishment for the crime. Colfax might’ve led them, but they have brains enough to know when something’s unlawful. A pack that blindly follows an alpha who’s not worth following… well. They have to take some responsibility too.”
Joe swallowed, pride swelling in his chest. His father had never given out praise with a free hand – it had always had to be earned. But when it did come, that just made it all the more heartfelt. Joe knew, whenever his father said something, he truly meant it.
Beneath the table, he felt Sasha’s warm hand brushing against his, catching his fingers between hers and squeezing.
Maybe she could tell how much his father’s words meant to him. Even if she didn’t fully understand why, she still knew that this was important. And he loved her for it. He loved her more than he had ever suspected he could love someone.
A contented silence fell over the table. Bellies were full, stories had been told. Everyone was satisfied.
At least, until Charity sat up a little straighter in her chair, gasping out a quick, quiet, “Oh.”
Mason was immediately alert. “Charity? What’s wrong?”
Charity waved a hand, laughing a little. “Nothing, it’s nothing. Only, I think my water just broke.”
Chapter Twelve
Sasha
For a long moment, there was silence at the table. As Sasha glanced from Charity’s face to Mason’s, she couldn’t help but feel a giggle welling up in her throat – he looked stunned, like someone had slapped him across the face and he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do about it yet.
“Are… are you sure?” he finally managed to stutter out.
Charity nodded. “Yes, of course. You remember the cramps I mentioned last night?”
Mason nodded, eyes as wide as saucers.
“Well… I didn’t want to say anything, considering I think we all had enough on our plates. But it was probably the beginning of labor.” Charity laughed, a little strained. “Well, not probably, I suppose. Definitely.”
“But… but it’s still a week or so early, isn’t it?” Mason asked, sounding plaintive.
“Do you want to explain that to the baby? Because I think she gets final say.”
“I – oh my God,” Mason said, jumping to his feet and grabbing Charity’s hand at the same time. “What do you need me to do?” He glanced out the window. “Driving’ll be too slow in this snow. I’ll shift and run to Cedar Hill.”
“What, and go running up Main Street with your junk hanging out?” Charity asked, her voice sounding a little strained. “That’d look fine when you’re up for re-election.”
“As if I could care less about that at a time like this!” Mason said, exasperated. “The only thing I care about –”
“Just slow down, Mason,” Sasha broke in, hoping no one would mind her speaking up. She was new here, after all – but somehow, she felt comfortable. She knew about childbirth from her Aunt Carol. And besides, she too could feel the thrill of excitement at the idea of the new baby. The experience was universal. “The first thing we should do is call the midwife and make sure she’s in the office, otherwise it’ll be a wasted trip, no matter how you get there. And besides, there’s three of us others here – one of us should go. It’d be better for Mason to stay here and look after you, wouldn’t it, Charity?”
Charity nodded. “Yeah. Susannah – that’s our midwife – told me the best thing I could do at this stage is just relax and try to be as normal as possible. Mason’s been coming with me to the sessions, if he can get his head back on straight to remember.” She squeezed Mason’s hand, looking into his eyes. “Honestly, the best thing you can do right now is just be here with me. And give me an ankle rub.”
Mason laughed, though it still sounded a little shaky. “All right. That, I can do.”
“Did you decide in the end you wanted to have the cub here?” Joe asked, voice soft.
Charity nodded. “It was like you all said – home and family. That’s what’s important for a shifter. No matter whether the baby turns
out to be a shifter or not, I want her to have what you boys had, and be born on her own pride’s lands.”
Sasha watched as all three men at the table nodded in agreement. Mason leaned across, pressing a kiss to his mate’s forehead. Her chest ached as she watched. Was that really what it meant, then, to be part of a shifter’s pride – to be a shifter’s mate?
Everyone seemed to offer unconditional support to each other; to trust their decisions and want what was best for them.
Home and family.
Sasha repeated Charity’s words over to herself. Colfax had been all about domination and control. Larssen couldn’t have cared less about her, once he’d gotten what he wanted.
Things couldn’t be more different here with Joe and his family, Sasha thought. Mason’s care as he helped Charity stand and make her way into the living room was obvious.
As she watched them, Joe gave her hand a squeeze under the table. She glanced at him, smiling. Despite the fact he was obviously trying to look calm and relaxed, she could see the excitement in his eyes.
“I’ll call the midwife,” Lincoln said, just as calmly as ever. “Make sure she can be here when the time comes. Better her being too early than too late.”
Charity nodded. “You’re probably right about that.” She grimaced suddenly. “Oh, that was a nasty one.”
Sasha stood up, smiling. “Well, my aunt was a midwife – which doesn’t in any way qualify me, but I know she always advised to do something you enjoy during this time, to try to take your mind off any aches and pains. Is there anything I can help you with, Charity?”
Charity took a deep breath. “Baking,” she said, her voice determined. “That’s my stress relief. And seeing as I have no idea how long this’ll take, I hope you’re all ready to eat a lot of cake.”
***
The breaking light of a winter dawn was just beginning to show over the dark line of trees on the horizon.
Sasha stood on the decking of the ranch’s main house, a cup of hot coffee in her hands, watching as the first golden rays of the sun spread across the sky. Her eyes felt heavy and she hadn’t slept a wink, but none of it mattered. Her heart was pounding with joy and excitement. She’d probably need a long nap sometime soon, but for now, she couldn’t even begin to think about sleep.
Charity and Mason were asleep inside the house, wrapped up in warm blankets and each other’s arms. Their baby, a perfect little girl they’d named Faith Marie, was cuddled up between them, sleeping soundly after her arrival to the world.
Sasha and Joe had gone in to see them once Susannah, the midwife, had given them the all-clear. Charity, looking sweaty and exhausted but beyond exhilarated, had been lying in bed, the baby on her breast, while Mason sat beside her. He’d been stroking Faith’s sparse hair as she lay there, peaceful and happy. His huge fingers had made the baby look even tinier, but his gentleness and the love in his eyes as he looked down at the new addition to his family was…
Sasha took a deep breath.
It was amazing. There was no other word for it.
Faith hadn’t stirred during Sasha and Joe’s visit, but Charity had told her that she already had green eyes – just like her father’s. Maybe it’ll mean she’ll be a shifter too, Charity said. But there’s no way to know until she gets a little older.
Joe had asked if he could touch her, and Charity had readily agreed. Joe had stroked the baby’s cheek with one of his calloused fingers. Feels like velvet, he’d said. Charity, she’s perfect.
Looking at them all sitting together, a family, Sasha had had to agree that perfect was the only word for it.
But now, standing here on the deck and thinking back, she revised her thoughts. They weren’t a family – they were a pride. A pride she now knew she had no hesitation in joining.
Lincoln had come into the room a little later to see the latest addition to his pride. As alpha, he’d held the baby a short time, looking down at her, as if he’d been memorizing her features.
A new cub, he’d said, in his low, gruff way. A new member of the pride. Born to mated parents. There’s nothing in the world that’s a happier day than when that happens.
He’d given Faith back to Charity, and together, he, Sasha and Joe had left the room, to give the new parents and baby some time to themselves.
Coffee had seemed in order – as well as a massive slice of one of the four cakes she and Charity had made together while waiting for the midwife. It was Charity’s first child, but nonetheless, things had gone off without a hitch. Her pains hadn’t become so bad she couldn’t concentrate until after Susannah had arrived, thankfully, and Sasha had been happy to spend her time whipping up some frosting to distract everyone from what was happening in the next room.
Reaching down, Sasha grabbed her fork and helped herself to another big mouthful of cake. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting – her favorite.
As she chewed, savoring the rich, creamy flavors on her tongue, she glanced down at the other two plates, holding the other two pieces of cake.
Lincoln and Joe had disappeared shortly after they’d left Charity and Mason’s room. She figured they’d gone to reflect on their new roles – as great uncle and uncle respectively. She’d attended enough births with her aunt to know that different people tended to react to them in different ways. Some with ecstatic joy, some with fear. And some with a sense of awe and a need to reflect on the miracle they’d just been a part of witnessing.
If they needed a little time, Sasha was more than prepared to let them have it. But she could already feel a prickle on her skin, as if a very light electric charge was running over it, and she knew what it meant.
She wanted to be close to her mate.
My mate.
She was a little surprised by how easily she was already thinking of him in these terms: Joe wasn’t her boyfriend or her partner. He was her mate.
Maybe it was because she’d had the privilege of being here during what had to be an incredibly important moment for the pride, but she felt right at home here. She felt bonded not just to Joe, but to all of them.
Sasha had still been worried that perhaps they blamed her for bringing Colfax and the Blackwood Pack down on their heads. That Lincoln would be angry with her, because Joe had had to fight for her sake. That, even if they accepted her, they might never truly think she fit in here.
But since last night, all of those fears had been erased. Perhaps she still had a lot to learn about shifters, and about what being part of a pride meant. But now, she knew that this was where she belonged.
This was her home. Her lands. Her pride.
She sighed contentedly as the sun finally struggled free of the horizon, rising into the sky.
Finishing her coffee, Sasha set the cup down on a small chest by the front door, before picking up the plates with the two remaining pieces of cake. She didn’t want to intrude if Joe and Lincoln were having quiet time, but she was lonely without her mate. After watching how tender and loving Mason had been with Charity, she wanted to feel his warm arms around her, and feel the solidity of his body against hers.
Shivering a little in the cold air, Sasha made her way along the side of the house. The snow looked silvery in the early light, and she honestly couldn’t think of a more beautiful place to be right now, or on a more beautiful day.
It wasn’t long before she heard the low tones of Joe and his father’s voices – and then, a moment later, the dark, rich scent of tobacco smoke hit her nose. Sasha grinned. She supposed that some things were the same between humans and shifters after all, and a celebratory cigar was apparently one of them.
Sasha paused by the corner of the house. She didn’t want to butt in on the middle of a sensitive conversation. She waited, peeking around the corner, but it seemed like Joe and Lincoln had stopped talking for now, and were simply standing together, watching the sunrise.
Sasha was just about to round the corner, calling out cheerily that their cake was waiting for them, when Lincoln turned back
to his son, one hand resting on his shoulder.
“It’s a beautiful day, son,” Lincoln said, his voice low. It still carried to Sasha where she stood on the decking, and, somehow, she could still hear the soft note of sadness in it. It gave her a moment’s pause. Perhaps they hadn’t quite finished talking together after all. She stayed where she was, silently watching them.
“For more than one reason,” Joe agreed.
Lincoln nodded. “The first cub in a new generation of the pride. It’s something I always hoped I’d live to see.”
Joe glanced at his father. “You’re not even an old man yet.”
There was a long silence. Even Sasha found herself holding her breath. Joe was right, though – Lincoln was hardly old. Maybe shifters aged differently from humans, but she looked at him and saw a man still strong, healthy, and not yet out of his prime.
“Maybe not,” Lincoln said finally. “But still. When a man gets to a certain age, he starts to think about these things, whether or not it’s justified. And for an alpha of a pride… maybe it’s a little stronger even than usual. You want to know the pride will continue after you’re gone. That its members are happy, and you’ve done the right thing by them.”
“You always have.” Joe’s answer was unhesitating.
Lincoln glanced across at his son. “Maybe. I know… well. I know I haven’t always been as freehanded as I might’ve been in telling you boys how proud I am of you. But I hope you always knew it, all the same.”
Sasha licked her lips, her chest feeling tight. She knew she shouldn’t have continued to eavesdrop after it had become clear that Joe and Lincoln weren’t done talking, but she felt rooted to the spot, like she couldn’t have moved even if she’d wanted to.