Page 119

Twins among shifters is a special bond, not quite a mate bond, but close to it. Something invisible linking them together. They always seem to know where the other is and what they’re thinking. Which comes in handy when they’re trying to convince me of something.

“That’s enough now. Dinner is almost ready, and I’ve been working all week to get the recipe right, and you three are not going to ruin it,” I say, still laughing as Sawyer licks at my face.

I’ve continued my cooking lessons with Hunter’s mom to improve my skills. I still can’t manage certain things and, more often than not, let Hunter cook the dinners, but I do my part. Things that go in the oven are particularly pesky to me. Often, I forget they’re in there and burn them. But not tonight. I will not let their insubordination burn my roast tonight.

Savvy whimpers in a way that I know means;please, Mom, just five more minutes?

“No. You all change back right now. You won’t like dinner when it’s cold.” They all growl a grumble in protest, including Hunter. “Or burnt,” I add.

They’ve eaten enough of my burnt food to know they don’t like it. Even with the threat of burnt roast, they don’t shift back immediately as I had hoped.

Hunter’s massive wolf form joins our sons on my lap, followed quickly by Savannah, knocking me over till I’m flat on my back, with all three of their snouts tickling and licking at my face and neck.

My laughter becomes squeals as they bombard me from all sides. Hunter’s wolf lays down above my head, trapping me from behind.

“Okay, okay, I get it. This isn’t fair since I can’t shift.”

The twins finally release me from their attack and return to chasing each other around. Sawyer manages to get the jump on Savannah, pouncing on her head and rolling her to the ground.

I sigh, catching my breath as I sit up and lean against Hunter, who has shifted back to human form. He pulls a blanket from the couch to cover his lower half. Even if nudity is normal among shifters, he still tries to cover or conceal himself from the kids as much as possible.

His arms encircle me, and I relax back against him as we watch the twins play. Their sounds of joy engraved in my heart. Sounds I memorize and keep as my own personal soundtrack. Sounds I never thought I would hear before I found Snowberry, found Hunter all those years ago.

Another much more unwelcome sound cuts through the playful yipping of the twins: the sound of the smoke detector. It blares out an ear-piercing shrill beep. The twins decide it isn’t enough and want to join in, halting their play to sit and howl at the ceiling.

I clamber out of Hunter’s laughing embrace to try and save dinner to the sounds of his boisterous laughter and my children’s twin howls of protest. And when I pull out the slightly crispy roast, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

THE END.