Spring

by Viola Rivard

  Not freaking out each time she realized she had no idea where her kids were was something she struggled with on a daily basis. In order to find a compromise between her maternal instincts and their animal natures, she’d put rules in place that they had to be home before dark and that they couldn’t leave the front yard without a grown up. To avoid conflict with Shadow’s independent nature, she’d put him in charge of upholding these rules and watching over the adults that were minding the pups. He took his job very seriously, and as a result rarely wandered off on his own.

  Alder didn’t stir as Taylor crawled into bed beside him. He’d been exhausted when he’d arrived that morning, having been awake all night and the day before as he’d prepared his pack for Shan’s arrival. Without any pretense of merely resting his eyes, Alder had slumped over in bed and still remained in the same position as when he’d passed out.

  Taylor placed a hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with his breath. His skin had a preternatural warmth to it, and a golden-bronze hue from late afternoons spent outside in the sun. Like most shifter males, he was powerfully muscled, but like his brother, Alder was an alpha male, making him taller and broader than any male in his pack and most human men Taylor had seen.

  Alder and Hale didn’t know their precise birthdate, but by their estimates they were either thirty or thirty-one now. At a glance, the rough lives they’d led in the wilderness did not show on their faces, which appeared smooth and unlined. Up close, however, and especially on Alder, Taylor could make out tiny lines around his eyes which became more pronounced when he smiled. She loved the little wrinkles, which she thought made him look more mature and distinguished.

  The first time she’d seen Alder she’d been stunned by how handsome he was. She could still remember the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she’d regarded him. At the time, her life had been in chaos but she’d still had time to throw herself a pity party. Men like him did not go for emotionally-stunted, overweight virgins, and never mind the fact that she was on the run for murder.

  To this day, she still had moments where she felt inadequate next to him and felt certain that in another life, one in which he wasn’t a shifter, Alder would have never looked twice at a girl like her. It was unhealthy as hell and she did her best not to cultivate the inferiority complex, but it did sometimes color her decisions, particularly when something she was doing might upset him.

  She couldn’t imagine her life without Alder. While Hale was exciting, funny, and just aloof enough to keep Taylor on her toes, Alder made her feel safe, secure, and cherished, three things that she’d been desperately starved for in her childhood. Had it just been Hale as her mate, Taylor would have long ago drowned under an ocean of insecurity.

  Respectful and ever-attentive to her needs, Taylor could always rely on Alder to support her. He knew how important the agriculture project was and unlike his brother, had also been aware of how much effort she’d put into it. Over the past month, Taylor had spent just as many mornings slumped over beside him in bed, compensating for her late nights spent doing candlelight research.

  Under almost any circumstances, she knew that Alder would have her back while she oversaw the valley’s cultivation, but she knew that a new pregnancy would be an exception. Even Hale, who had been distant for much of her last pregnancy, had been extremely overprotective of her during that time. Their protectiveness had intensified following an attack from Whiteriver, where Taylor had been—in their minds—nearly killed, and it hadn’t abated until the pups had been born and her mates had been forced to switch their focus to the tiny, fragile new people in their lives.

  Since then, she’d enjoyed a relative amount of autonomy within the pack. Although there was always someone on guard when she left the foothills of the mountain, she could move around her own little patch of territory freely, and her mates rarely put their feet down to interfere with her day to day wanderings.

  But if this pregnancy was anything like her last, then in the weeks to come both Hale and Alder were going to become overbearing control freaks. Though it would definitely piss her off and they were bound to butt heads, she knew that it wasn’t something they could control. Just like her children needed the freedom to run through the forests unhindered by their mother’s fretting, Alder ad Hale were going to fret over their mate and unborn child, regardless of how much it drove her crazy. It was simply part of what they were.

  As she ran her hand over Alder’s shoulders and up his neck, his instincts finally alerted him to her presence. Two eyes, one blue and one gold, slowly opened. He looked left, right, and then up at Taylor, a smile spreading over his gorgeous face.

  “Are we alone?”

  Biting back a smile, Taylor nodded.

  In an instant he had her on the bed and on her back, his mouth and his heavy body covering hers. She sucked in a breath as she felt his stiff erection nudging its way between her legs.

  “I was just dreaming about you,” he muttered in between kisses.

  “Me?” Taylor asked with mock surprise.

  In theory, she didn’t have to worry about either of her mates ever losing interest in her. In their own ways, they were both obsessed with her, and although she liked to think it had to do with her personality, she recognized that it had a lot to do with biology and instincts. She was the female they’d chosen as their mate, and as such, the only woman they would ever desire.

  Knowing this and accepting it were two different things for Taylor. Her feelings of insecurity meant that she routinely grappled with jealousy. It still came as a surprise to her that they could be so incredibly attracted to her, even after she’d had two babies. That was part of the reason that no matter how tired or stressed she was, she almost never denied them when they wanted sex. The other part was that she was equally, if not more, insanely attracted to the two of them.

  Alder’s firm hands went under her shirt and straight for her breasts. Unlike Hale, he wasn’t intimidated by them since she’d begun nursing. He knew just how to handle them without making her leak and while thoroughly pleasing Taylor.

  Sex with Alder was always a slow burn. If Taylor had to guess, she’d estimate that she had sex with him about half as much as she had sex with Hale. It wasn’t because she enjoyed being with Alder less. If ever there were a contest of who was a better and more generous lover, Alder would win, hands down. But his attentiveness to kissing and foreplay, when couple with the frequent interruptions of any one of their four children, meant that unless they explicitly planned sex, it was unlikely to happen.

  Realizing this, Taylor broke their kiss to say, “Door. Have to lock it.”

  Groaning, Alder briefly resumed kissing her, his fingers playing with the seam of her panties. It was a measure of how aroused he was that he was going straight for her underwear. She was so accustomed to him taking his time that the prospect of Alder taking her fast and rough sent a rush of anticipation through her.

  Parting from her, Alder muttered a rare expletive and got up. As he was on his way over to the door, Taylor heard the ominous sound of bare feet slapping on the porch steps. Alder had barely enough time to position his nude body behind the door before it burst open and Shadow came dashing in.

  ‘Fuck,’ Alder mouthed in Taylor’s direction.

  Taylor’s response was a quick pout, but she wanted to throw a pillow at her son.

  “Hi, Mom. Hi, Alder,” Shadow said on his way to the kitchen cabinets.

  Taylor mouthed, ‘Alder?’

  Alder shrugged and snuck back to the bed to grab a fur with which to cover himself.

  Shadow was growing at lightning speed, and would go through new developmental phases almost every week. A few days ago, Taylor had heard him call Hale by his name, rather than his customary, “Pa.” Hale had corrected him immediately, and when he’d asked why Shadow had called him that, his son had simply rolled his shoulders and said, “I don’t know.”

  It had worried Taylor then, and again now. She often wondered
how the children made sense of having two fathers. To Fawn and the little ones, it was the only thing they knew and it would never occur to them to question it. But Shadow, who had gone with them to the Shaderunner pack and made friends with other pups, seemed to have caught on that his family was different. To what extent, Taylor wasn’t sure. Any time she tried coaxing him into a discussion, he would either stop talking or change the subject.

  Neither reaction was enough to cause alarm, as he was prone to doing both during any conversation. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there were things going on in his little head that she should be better helping him to make sense of.

  His father said, “Shadow, what did we tell you about knocking?”

  “I did knock,” he said, referring to the quick peck he’d made on the door before pushing it open.

  Alder said, “Next time, wait to be invited in.”

  He was rarely cross with any of the pups, but at the moment Alder’s irritation was evident on his face. Taylor could practically see him counting down the seconds until Shadow had found whatever it was he was looking for and exited the cabin.

  “Technically, it’s my house,” Shadow said, half his body inside one of the floor cabinets as he rummaged.

  “Technically, it’s your mother’s,” Alder said.

  Taylor prepared herself for a drawn out debate on ownership, one of Shadow’s favorite topics as of late, but by some miracle he allowed his father’s logic to prevail.

  “Sorry, mama.”

  It amazed her that he was only two. She could barely believe that she’d still been nursing six months earlier. Ever since he’d stopped nursing and switched to solid foods, his appetite had been voracious and his already insane growth rate had increased exponentially. In spite of Alder and Hale’s reassurances that his growth would plateau, Shadow was now up to Taylor’s shoulders in height. Though neither of his fathers would admit it, Taylor was certain that even they were starting to become concerned.

  Taylor reluctantly got up from the bed. “What are you looking for, honey?”

  If she didn’t intervene, he was going to destroy her kitchen. Though mature in so many ways, Shadow was still clueless when it came to making messes and cleaning up after himself.

  He poked his head out. “Something that can clean up a lot of blood.”

  Taylor blanched. “Like, animal blood?”

  “Like, people blood.”

  Alder was at her side before Taylor could complete her next question.

  “Whose blood?”

  Shadow wrinkled his nose. “Henry’s.”

  Chapter Three

  Taylor rode on Alder’s back to the river, her mate guided by their son, who would dash ahead and then wait for his father to catch up. There had been no time to ask questions before they’d been out the door and on their way, and Taylor’s mind swam with possibilities, each more horrible than the last.

  Of all of her pups, she worried about Henry the most. It was largely due to the fact that he’d been born with one arm, which meant that in his wolf form he had only one front leg with which to get around. Though he managed remarkably well, beside his siblings he was noticeably slower and a bit clumsier. She worried that the differences in his capabilities would become more apparent as he became older, and what that would do to his confidence and happiness.

  At the moment, he was an utter joy of a pup. He never gave her an ounce of trouble, and always listened to Taylor the first time she told him something. Unlike his similarly-aged sibling Belle, he got along with everyone and rarely fussed about anything.

  The problem, that apparently wasn’t a problem, was that he never shifted into his human form. Ever since he’d learned how to take his wolf form, he’d shifted into his human form only twice, and both times it had seemed more an accident than intentional. Though everyone assured her that this was normal, Taylor’s instincts said otherwise.

  She was so unaccustomed to seeing his human form that she barely recognized the leggy infant in Quinn’s arms as they arrived at the river. She hadn’t seen him cry since the week she’d brought him home, and that, too, was now unfamiliar to her. Noting the blood running down his arm, Taylor was off of Alder’s back before her mate had come to a full stop.

  “What happened?”

  She tried to sound calm, even as she reached for her baby with trembling hands. Quinn, who didn’t appear to be sharing in her panic, offered Henry up easily.

  “He and Belle got into one of their little fights and it got a bit too rough,” Quinn said.

  Quinn was a mid-ranking wolf among the pack, her position having been somewhat elevated since the birth of the pups. She and her friend Beka—one of Hale’s former bedmates—had swooped in from the start and established themselves as aunts to Shadow and Fawn.

  Far from being put off by their sudden insertion into Taylor’s family circle, she’d found them both to be extremely helpful, at least when compared to Lark and Holly. While Taylor had recovered from giving birth, Quinn had kept her cabin spotless. She still stopped by to clean at least once a week, and although they had little in common, she and Taylor could talk for hours on the subject of the pups.

  It was the same with Beka, whom much like Holly, Taylor had seriously disliked. That had less to do with the fact that Beka had been a bitch—which she had been—and more to do with the fact that Beka had clearly never gotten over Hale. It was tough to put her feelings about that aside, but she’d managed to do so, mostly because Beka genuinely adored the pups and was usually the best babysitter in the pack.

  Now, Taylor had her doubts.

  Beka was also at the river, holding Belle in her puppy form and rocking her from side to side to keep her settled. Taylor looked quickly between Beka and Quinn, and then down at Henry’s bloodied arm.

  Why were they not freaking out?

  “Where were you?” she asked, pinning the question to Beka.

  Beka said, “I was here.” Anticipating Taylor’s next words, she added, “We can’t stop them from fighting. It’s how they learn.”

  “How they learn?” Taylor tersely repeated. “They’re five months old. They’re babies.”

  She crouched down by the water as Alder arrived at her side. He set aside the bandages he’d been carrying in favor of scooping up a handful of water and rinsing away blood from Henry’s arm.

  “They’re not babies,” Beka said, now hovering behind them. “They’re pups. When are you going to get that through your head?”

  Taylor would have balled her hands into fists, had she not been using them to try to soothe Henry. The pale-haired little boy clung to her chest as he cried. Needed a sense of security, his head rooted for a nipple he hadn’t suckled from in weeks.

  Though inwardly fuming, Taylor’s voice was deathly calm as she looked over her shoulder and said, “That’s it. This is the last time I let either of you watch them.”

  She was far too upset over Henry’s injury and Beka’s cavalier attitude about it to feel any guilt as the color drained from Beka’s face.

  Quinn was up in an instant, running to Beka’s side. “Taylor, you don’t mean that. Please, just listen and try to understand. We—”

  Quinn may have very well said something that would have softened Taylor’s resolve, but Beka’s interjection ruined any hope of that.

  “You can’t do that,” she said, the color returning to her cheeks. “You don’t get to decide that we can’t see them. They’re our pups, too.”

  A flash of something that must have been rage overtook Taylor’s body. Her anger was so startling in its intensity that she didn’t immediately trust herself to formulate a sentence.

  “What?” she breathed.

  Beka doubled down, shifting Belle to her hip so that she could jab a finger at the air in front of Taylor. “What makes them anymore yours than ours? You didn’t give birth to them. You don’t get some special claim to them just because you fed them for a few months. If anything, they’re more ours than yours. You�
��ll never know them like we can.”

  Beka might as well have cracked open Taylor’s skull, forked out every insecurity she’d ever had about her babies, and then force-fed them to Taylor. Devastation and rage fought for control within her, making her torn between bursting into tears and charging at Beka to claw her eyes out.

  Taylor did neither. She refused to cry in front of Beka—she’d do that later, when she was alone—and she knew that barring Alder’s intervention, Beka would kick her pathetic, human ass.

  Her voice hoarse, Taylor said, “Give me my daughter, now.”

  Beka took a step back, her chin quivering. Her pleading eyes darted to Alder, and that she would even think to turn to Alder for support made Taylor doubt herself. She looked to him as well, terrified that he might overrule her.

  “Beka.”

  He said her name firmly, and with a stern look that brokered no negotiation. Taylor let out a shaking breath.

  “You know we’re right,” Beka said, her eyes welling with tears. “Don’t let her do this to us.”

  Passing the bandages to Taylor, Alder stood and went to Beka. He reached out a hand, not to pry Belle from her arms, but to squeeze Beka’s shoulder.

  “I think we’re all overreacting right now,” he said gently. “Give her to me, and we’ll talk about this later once our heads are clearer.”

  Taylor turned away from the pair and focused on binding Henry’s wound. Between the tears rolling down Beka’s pretty face and Alder’s tender gaze, the scene was too intimate for her to cope with. Beka had been the one to tell Taylor that she had no claim to her adopted children, yet somehow Taylor had become the villain.

  Shadow tried to run ahead of them as they approached the cabin’s porch. With a few quick strides, Alder managed to grab him by the arm. He gave his son a reassuring pat on the head, and then instructed him to go and find Fawn.

  Shadow frowned, his golden-brown brows drawing together. Voice low, he asked, “Is Mama going to be okay?”