by Zoe Chant
Eventually, they reached a point where the path either continued up into a more strenuous hike into the mountains, or looped back around on itself to go back to the visitor’s center. Wilson looked around with a frown.
“What is it?” Mavis asked. She didn’t quite want to turn around yet, either, she had to admit, although she wasn’t really in the type of shape she’d need to be in to start straight up a mountainside.
“Do you mind taking a bit of a detour?” Wilson asked her, turning back with a twinkle in his eye.
“What do you mean?”
Wilson grinned, looking boyish, and tugged her toward the edge of the path.
Mavis followed, but she said, “Is this safe?” Nina had warned her about the fact that the Park had dangers, wild animals and dangerous terrain, and how it was always important to either stay on the tourist paths, or be sure you knew the territory you were headed into and had the correct safety equipment with you.
Not that Mavis thought a little traipse through the sun-dappled woods would be dangerous.
And actually, now that she thought about it, she had her own dangerous wild animal with her. She was pretty sure that most wildlife would think twice before coming after a genuine snow leopard.
Wilson was saying, “The woods aren’t too thick, and I can’t scent any bears or anything else dangerous nearby. If you’d rather go back on the path—”
“No,” Mavis interrupted, smiling at him. “I trust you. Let’s go this way.”
Wilson smiled back, and together they stepped into the forest.
Mavis felt almost like a fairy tale creature now, following a shapeshifter into the woods. She smiled to herself at the private fantasy. She was surrounded by magical, fairy-tale type creatures every day, including her own daughter.
Plenty of magic in her life already. She didn’t even need fairy tales.
The path quickly disappeared behind them as Wilson led her through the trees. Out here, the natural wonder was even more apparent than it had been on the path; they were surrounded on all sides by the forest, with no indication anywhere of human activity.
Mavis breathed in happily, and caught the aroma of flowers drifting in from somewhere. The area where they were walking was so thickly wooded that the forest floor was mostly logs and pine needles, because the sun filtered in only dimly through the enormous trees. She wondered where it was coming from.
The breeze was wafting towards them from the direction they were walking, though, so maybe it was ahead. She followed Wilson eagerly, and after a few minutes, the trees started to thin out.
They emerged from the woods into a gorgeous clearing. The ground was carpeted with grass and wildflowers—blue, white, yellow, pink, all twinkling amid the rich green. Mavis sighed with appreciation.
“Let’s stop here for a little while,” she suggested to Wilson.
He smiled and laid down his jacket on the grass for her. It was warm enough that they’d long taken their light spring jackets off—Mavis was even starting to sweat a bit in her long-sleeved shirt.
Struck by a whimsical impulse, before she sat down she spread her own jacket on the ground for Wilson, raising her eyebrows at him when he laughed.
“What?” she asked. “I want you to be just as comfortable as I am.”
“Thank you,” he said gravely, and they sat together in the grass.
Mavis leaned into her mate’s side, feeling a pleasurable warmth run through her. She was here, in the most beautiful place on Earth, with the best man she’d ever known, and she was ready to spend the rest of her life with him.
Nothing could have made the moment any better.
They sat in the sun for a while, just appreciating the beauty around them. Wilson put his arm around Mavis and tugged her close, and she relaxed into the rhythm of his breathing and the thump of his heartbeat. His body was so strong and firm against hers. She wondered if...
“Wilson?” she murmured.
“Hmmm?” he rumbled back.
“Would you—would you shift for me? It seems wrong that the only time I’ve ever seen it was at Daryl’s house.”
Daryl’s house. Not hers anymore, not ever again. The thought was so freeing.
Wilson made a dissatisfied noise. “You’re right. That’s not how it should be. Of course I’ll shift for you, love.”
The endearment made her flush with pleasure. She sat upright, and watched as Wilson stood and stretched—good God, his muscles in a T-shirt and jeans, it was enough to make a woman need to fan herself—and stepped a few paces away.
“Ready?” he asked her.
She nodded. “Whenever you are.”
And then his form shivered, and blurred, and standing in front of her was a snow leopard.
He was just as beautiful as she remembered. More, even, because out here, the sun dappled his coat with shining silver, bringing out the sleekness of his fur, and the way the muscles shifted underneath it.
He paced forward when she held her hand out, and nuzzled at her fingers. She petted his head, marveling at how soft the fur was, and then buried her fingers in the longer coat on his side. He leaned into the touch.
She petted along his side, and he stretched, looking as indulgent as any cat. The luxuriousness of his fur was unbelievable. Mavis ran her hands along his flank, his spine, touching his tail just for a moment before he flicked away—instinctively, she thought. But she moved her attention back to his head, running curious fingers over his ears, the delicate fur on his forehead. She avoided the extremely large, sharp teeth.
His eyes, though—his eyes looked exactly the same.
After a minute, he leaned forward, and delicately touched his nose to hers. Mavis laughed in delight.
Wilson pulled back and gave her a look that she could almost describe as—playful? And then he shot off into the trees, almost faster than she could follow. She gasped involuntarily—she’d had no idea that snow leopards were so fast. She’d seen the rest of the pack in their shifted forms every now and then, but usually just when they were heading out or coming back from a run, not at their full speeds.
He must have circled around, because he came back quickly, out of the trees and into the clearing like a shot. He raced past her, leapt for a tree, and scaled it almost all the way to the top. He ended up on the last sturdy branch, stretched out with his tail hanging down in a curve, exactly like a photograph of a big wild cat.
Mavis applauded, breathless with how impressive he was. The things a wild cat could do!
And he was hers.
After a moment, he made his way down the tree trunk, with no indication that it took any real effort to get down a straight vertical incline like that. He padded back over to her, nosed at her fingers again, and then blurred and shifted back.
“Like that?” he asked, eyes twinkling.
“That was amazing,” Mavis breathed. “You’ll have to do that for me again.”
“Anytime you like,” he said sincerely, and leaned in for a soft kiss.
Mavis caught him around the neck, pulling him forward and deepening the kiss. She wanted to feel his body against hers, revel in it, just enjoy the fact that there was nothing separating her from this fantastical man.
That they were one.
He kissed her back, hot and fierce, and the next thing she knew, they were tearing at each other’s clothes.
This is crazy, she thought, even as she slid her hands under Wilson’s shirt and pulled it over his head. We’re outside. Anyone could come by and see us.
But they were far off the path, and they hadn’t seen another soul for hours.
Besides, Wilson’s shifter senses would pick up on any casual off-path hikers well before they showed up. There wasn’t any danger.
So she let the thought of discovery go, and concentrated on getting Wilson’s jeans off, without getting in the way of his attempts to strip her bare.
Soon enough, and with only a little fumbling, they were naked in the soft grass, tumbling down to the gro
und together. Mavis shuddered at the feeling of all of his hot skin against hers, feeling a rush of liquid heat between her thighs, her stomach heating and clenching with desire.
It seemed like they were one with the spring day, everything warm and fragrant and a bit damp. And so it was the most natural thing in the world to straddle Wilson’s hips as he lay back in the grass, slipping a hand between them to grasp his cock.
He groaned at the touch of her hand, hardening fully against her fingers. Mavis could feel herself getting wetter, her core aching for the feel of him. She guided him to her entrance and slowly, slowly sank down onto him.
His big hands closed over her hips as he filled her, and her eyes fell shut at the intense pleasure of it. And it didn’t just feel good physically—there was something about doing it this way, with her on top, about taking her own pleasure and making both her and Wilson feel so good—
It was somehow just as pleasurable as when Wilson had done the same for her. Mavis felt a satisfied smile spread over her face—and then it broke into a gasp as she seated herself fully onto him.
She opened her eyes to see him staring up at her. His expression suggested that he was seeing something too wonderful for words, that the sight of her over him, here in this sunny clearing, was something he almost couldn’t believe was real.
Mavis spread her hands over the gorgeous expanse of his muscled chest, looked into the endless depths of his silver eyes, and thought, It’s mutual.
Then she started to move.
She hadn’t done this often—even back when they’d still been intimate, Daryl had always wanted to be on top—but her hips seemed to know the right rhythm, instinctively chasing the burst of pleasure she felt with every small movement. Soon, Wilson was rising to meet her as she rolled her hips, feeling the beginning of a sweet burn in her core muscles, contrasting with the rising heat inside of her.
They were both starting to pant, and sweat had sprung out on Mavis’ forehead and between her breasts; she could see it gleaming on Wilson’s chest. The spring breeze swirled around them as they moved, and Mavis laughed out loud at how free it felt, the sun and the wind on her naked body as she made love with her mate.
Wilson grinned up at her, and slid a hand between them, his hand finding her clit. Mavis moaned at the sudden lightning-burst of pleasure, his calloused finger rubbing right over her most sensitive spot and making her clench hard around his cock.
He shuddered at that, but kept up the quick, focused rub of his finger right where she needed it most. Mavis bit her lip at the sharp, sweet ache, grinding her hips down against his hand, gasping at how deep he pressed inside her when she did it.
Wilson’s hand came up to her shoulder and pulled her roughly down for a kiss, and Mavis came as his mouth devoured hers. It was like the kiss lanced through her body and detonated her climax, pleasure bursting its way through her. She moaned and shook, clutching at Wilson’s shoulders, and heard his deep, deep groan as he thrust up inside her one final time and came too.
For a long, long moment, Mavis just stayed where she was, panting softly, feeling the breeze on her sweat-damp skin, the sun warming her naked body. Wilson was a solid warmth underneath her, his chest moving as he caught his breath.
“Wow,” he said finally, looking up at her with residual heat in his eyes. “That may be the hottest thing I have ever done.”
Mavis broke into a smile. “Me, too.”
He kissed her, holding her close, and then suddenly rolled her over so that she was the one on her back in the grass. She let out a startled squeak, and then relaxed into the softness. Around them, the scent of crushed grass and wildflowers rose into the air.
“Now,” he said seriously, “I think I just want to kiss you forever.”
Mavis stroked a hand over his forehead, cupped his cheek, lost herself in his eyes. “That can be arranged.”
***
Wilson didn’t think he’d ever felt better in his life.
It was as though he was just...suffused with a sense of well-being. The rush of joy he felt every time he looked at Mavis seemed to be building up inside him, adding layers and layers of happiness that stayed warm in his chest after he looked away.
Although he didn’t look away much.
Mavis seemed to be feeling the same, if the smile that lingered at the corners of her mouth was any indication. They walked back along the path hand-in-hand, and their eyes kept catching on each other, their fingers squeezing, their shoulders brushing.
Wilson was a middle-aged Marine Colonel. He’d never thought he’d feel like a giddy teenager again, but apparently he’d been wrong.
They were meeting Nina for dinner at Oliver’s, and so they drove back into town; Wilson was amazed that he didn’t crash them right into a tree, the way he kept getting distracted by how beautiful Mavis’ smile was, the graceful bend of her wrist, the gorgeous curve of her shoulder.
He wanted to take some serious time and learn every single inch of her better than he knew himself.
“Wilson,” Mavis murmured, when they were about halfway back to town.
“Hm?” Wilson asked.
“What are you going to do about your job? Your home in Washington?” She turned to look at him, and Wilson was gratified to see that she didn’t look anxious, or upset, like she had when she’d brought it up before. Just curious.
No longer was she wondering how this was going to end, worrying that there was no way he could choose her over anything else. Somewhere in there, she’d gotten the confidence in their relationship to look at this as a problem for them to solve together.
Fortunately, it wasn’t much of a problem. Wilson wasn’t sure when he’d made up his mind about this—the possibility had been there, and he’d turned it over in his mind several times already, but it had always seemed dubious. Self-indulgent. Risky.
Now, though, it was clearly the only option. He didn’t know when he’d made that decision. Maybe around the same time Mavis had stopped worrying.
“I’m retiring,” he told her. “I’m leaving Washington, and I’m going to move up here to Glacier.”
Her lips parted. “Oh,” she breathed. “But—you shouldn’t have to leave your home for me.”
“First,” he said firmly, “if that’s what’s best for both of us, that’s exactly what I should do. Secondly...I haven’t been happy with my job for a long time. The only reason I haven’t retired yet is that I didn’t know what I would do otherwise, where I would go. My life seemed like a wasteland, apart from the Marines. Now,” and he reached over and squeezed her hand, “my life is full. Full of love.”
Mavis squeezed back. He loved the feeling of her strong hand in his; smaller than his own, of course, but still capable, with power in its grip as well as gentleness.
“I would love to have you here with me in Glacier,” she said quietly. “I can’t think of anything that would make me happier.”
He smiled. “Good. And I’m looking forward to making up for years and years of lost time in the city. The idea of having all of these mountains and forests to explore, the whole Park to learn...I think I could spend my days re-learning what it is to be a shifter out in nature, like I was meant to be.”
Mavis smiled. But was there a hint of wistfulness to it? Wilson wondered if she felt left out, since her daughter and most of her friends here were shifters.
Would she want...?
But they were coming up to the town, and that was a question for another time. Besides, Mavis was thinking. “Are you going to join Cal’s pack?” she asked.
Wilson hesitated. “I think I’ll keep myself a loner for a bit longer,” he said finally. “Maybe I could be an associate member. A satellite member. I won’t usurp Cal’s authority, but I’m afraid that he’d be uncomfortable leading his former commanding officer.”
“Maybe you could find a different pack, up here,” Mavis suggested. “There’s a lot of different shifters around. Or do you all have to be the same type?”
�
�That’s usually how it works out in shifter communities,” Wilson said, “but in the military, everyone’s thrown together, and we make it work. I almost prefer it that way, because then there’s a multitude of experiences of what being a shifter means. You learn more that way.”
Mavis smiled. “I’m sure you’ll make it all work out.”
They pulled up to Oliver’s, and Wilson parked, then leaned over to kiss Mavis’ delicious lips. “We’ll make it work out together,” he murmured.
She kissed him back, and then squeezed his hand one more time, before they got out and headed into the diner.
Nina was waiting for them at a booth. Mavis and Wilson took the other side, and after the usual greetings, Mavis took a breath. “Nina,” she said, “I have something to tell you.”
“I think I might know what it is, Mom,” said Nina, with a little impish smile.
“Well, let me tell you anyway,” Mavis said. Wilson could see the expression reflected back: like mother, like daughter.
Mavis drew in her breath. “Wilson and I are mates,” she said.
Nina’s smile broke out into a wide grin. “I knew it.” Her voice was still soft—Wilson didn’t think he’d heard it raised—but heartfelt. “I knew it. Oh, Mom, I’m so happy for you.”
She did look happy. Good. That was good.
“I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Nina,” Wilson said. “On whatever terms you’d like. Maybe we could start out as friends.”
The idea of being a father figure to Nina—and from what Mavis had said, perhaps even also her mate, Joel—filled Wilson with a combination of apprehension and excitement.
He wanted it. He’d always appreciated the opportunity to mentor young soldiers, to feel as though he was making a difference in a young person’s life. It filled him with purpose, and a sense of warmth.
That was something a man had to build up to, though. No one stepped up and immediately gained someone’s trust and admiration; that was the sort of thing that was established over time.
And he was looking forward to spending time with Nina.
“That sounds good to me,” Nina said. “Maybe we could go for a run together in the Park sometime.”