Page 4

Mulder

“Come on, Madeline, it’s time for breakfast.” I flipped the pancakes. “It’s a good one, too.”

Madeline wasn’t exactly the quickest to get ready in the morning. She was like her father, easing into the day. It was difficult to believe he’d been gone nearly four years already. So much had changed in that time. I’d been so scared when my world crumbled, but our new life was better than I could’ve hoped for. I had a great job with an adorable home, and Madeline was soaring in school.

Sure, it was only preschool, but the teacher said she was definitely ready for kindergarten next year, and that was huge. I’d been so worried that all the upheaval in her life in the beginning would somehow hinder her—but so far, it seemed not to have. Thank gods.

“Daddy!” She came running out with her tutu on over her jeans. “I got fancy for school!” She twirled around.

I wouldn’t exactly call a T-shirt with a bicycle on it and a tutu that had seen better days paired with jeans fancy, but it wasn’t my call. “Super fancy.”

There’d been a time when I used to worry about whether her interesting fashion choices would get her picked on or be in the way when she climbed on the playground or participated in all the fun kids her age enjoyed. But my clever girl figured out that if she put the tutu over jeans, she could have the best of all worlds.

“Do I smell pancakes?” Her eyes lit up.

“You do.”

She sniffed the air. “Banana?”

“Very good.” I’d been working on helping her with her scenting.

I could sense that she was part cat, but I still didn’t know if she had one inside her. And I thought maybe if I focused on some of these skills, it would better prepare her for her first shift—if she had one. If she turned out to be human, that was fine, too. She could be a perfumer with the skills.

Some shifters cared if their young took after them, but not me. Her father was one of the kindest people I ever met, and he was human. It would be an honor for her to take after him.

“We don’t have a lot of time today. Daddy’s got a meeting this morning.”

“You always have meetings. When I grow up, I’m gonna have a job where I can dance all day. No meetings.” She changed her career goals often. One day, she wanted to be a train conductor, the next, a doctor, and now, a dancer. It was good to keep her options open.

“Well, I hope that works out for you. But I don’t mind meetings.”

They were far better than some of the other jobs I’d had during my younger years.

“Now, hurry up and get started. We don’t want to be late.”

I would have to tell her at least three more times because, well, she would get distracted. Normally, it didn’t matter. Her school was pretty flexible about when she arrived, since she went to childcare before class began. But today’s meeting was early, which was unusual for my boss—and that meant rushing her more than normal.

She ate her pancakes and then had to go change her clothes because she was a sticky mess. But we still managed to get there on time.

“Have a good day, Daddy. Remember, tonight is story night. I want the one about Father breaking you out of jail.”

It sounded far more scandalous than it was.

“I can do that.” I kissed the top of her head and sent her off with her teacher.

The story requested was her favorite and one of mine, too, for that matter. I hadn’t been sure I should tell it to her until she was older. Having a little kid talking about their dad being a cat in a cage wasn’t ideal in human circles. But, since we managed to get her into Wolfe Enterprises’ pack school, I figured it was safe for her to learn everything right from the start. She could openly speak about all things shifter there.

One of the first things I did after we settled in here was to turn different parts of my life with her father into storybooks for her. I wasn’t sure when or how I would use them at the time, but I knew they were important. The one she wanted today was her favorite. It told the story of a human boy who worked at an animal shelter during college, saw a cat in distress, and snuck him home.

That cat was me.

Instead of being sent to quarantine like the director had sentenced me to, I found my home. We became best friends and eventually married. Growing up, I always thought I’d find my true mate and live out my happy ever after. That wasn’t how it worked out, but there was not a single moment with Jason that I regretted. True mate or not.

It was a very short drive to the office, and when I got in, I set my lunch on my desk and headed straight to the conference room. My boss was already there, as well as the alpha and beta.

Shit. I hadn’t thought it was one of those kinds of meetings.

“Alpha, beta—”

“This isn’t pack business.” The alpha pointed to the open seat. “Join us. I want to talk to you about a new fundraiser.”

For a brief second, I thought that meant this meeting wouldn’t be that bad after all.

How wrong I was.

The alpha knew the story of how I met my husband—how some do-gooder was pretty sure I “had rabies” and dropped me off to be put down. And by “pretty sure I had rabies,” I meant, they were pissed I was in their yard and thought I was the cat who’d been pooping in their flower beds. Which I was not. I was just chasing a mouse away from my college rental. But that was another story.

After hearing the tale, the alpha began to loop me in on things related to animal rescues. And lucky me, Animals was having a huge fundraiser for exactly that—the local shelter.

“Karma has done a great job getting everything arranged and we wanted to have someone from the company there to represent us. And, I thought—who would be better than you?”

I could name a thousand people who would be better than me—a shy house cat shifter in a room full of dragons and bears and wolves, all drinking, everything loud—and just no. But instead, I worked hard not to let him see it.

“Sounds good, alpha.”

Because the truth was, without the alpha, I’d have nothing. No job. No home. Nothing. He made my first few days here so much better than they would have been. I hadn’t been surviving on gift cards in a roach-filled hotel. I had a nice apartment, food, a job, and an entire office building full of people who treated me as if I belonged. If me being happy-happy over an event I wanted no part of was required, so be it.

“What kind of attire should I be expected to wear?”

The beta, AKA Grampa Swale, stood up. “That’s where I come in. We’re going shopping.”

Great. Shopping. Another thing I detested. But, at least, it was with Grampa Swale.

As a surprise to no one, I came home with a tutu for Madeline—a glitter-ific sparkly one. Because, in his words, “Every princess needs more glitter.”

I had a feeling my vacuum wasn’t going to agree with that. Not that I had room to talk. I was as just as bad as he was when it came to spoiling her. And if seeing her smile over a brand-new “fancy” skirt meant vacuuming all day, every day, so be it.