Page 12

Kit was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the living room, his tongue poking out slightly as he concentrated on his sketchpad. There was a small pile of colored pencils next to him, and he was surprisingly quiet and focused as he drew. I'd grown used to my son being talkative, so watching him sketch silently was a novel experience.

Kiera was at work, and it was a Saturday, so it was just Kit and me for the afternoon. I'd expected we'd spend some time together, playing catch or fishing in the creek behind the house, but Kit had settled down with his sketch pad over an hour ago and was still plenty occupied.

"What are you working on?" I finally asked.

His head popped up, blue eyes bright, glancing at me before flipping his book totally open and handing it to me without even a pause. "Wolves!" He said proudly.

I took the sketchpad, my heart lurching when he told me what I'd find inside. Every single page was filled with wolves, some quick doodles that looked like they'd been drawn in a rush, as if he needed to get the image out of his mind and onto the paper as fast as possible. Other pictures were more detailed than I would have expected—powerful, sharp-eyed, alive in a way that made my chest tight.

I glanced down at Kit, handing him the sketchpad, "You like wolves, huh?"

Kit nodded, but looked a little shy, "Yeah. I dream about them a lot."

I swallowed, flipping back to a page where he’d drawn a wolf mid-howl, its fur thick, its eyes fierce.

Most shifter kids had already experienced at least one shift by Kit’s age. The first shift was unpredictable, often clumsy, and exhausting, but it was normal. But Kit hadn’t shifted.

I’d assumed it was because of Kiera’s weak shift, but looking at his drawings and how his little hands had poured so much into capturing something that felt innate, I had to wonder. Was he ready, and he just didn't know it? Was the instinctual, canine part of him trying to shift and failing simply because Kit knew nothing about the process?

“Come on,” I said, setting the sketchpad aside and standing. “Let’s go outside for a bit.”

Kit blinked up at me, surprised, but scrambled to his feet without question. I led him out onto the porch, the afternoon sun warm against our skin as we sat on the steps.

I didn't speak at first, watching as Kit picked at a loose thread on his sleeve, making sure that I had the right words for what I wanted my son to understand. Then I said, “Kit, do you remember the red moon?”

He looked surprised, but his shoulders tensed before he nodded.

“How did you feel that night?” I kept my voice calm, easy. If his shift was as close as I thought it was, the red moon would have called to him powerfully.

Kit fidgeted, then finally spoke. “Restless,” he admitted. “Like… like I was supposed to be doing something, but I didn’t know what.” He looked down at his hands, his fingers twitching like he was remembering it all over again. “I didn’t feel right. It was like...there was something under my skin, but I couldn’t get to it.”

My stomach tightened, and my heart started to pound. Shit. That was exactly how a young shifter should feel before their first shift...how I had felt before mine.

I didn't want to freak him out, so I kept as calm as I possibly could. "Do you still feel like that? Restless?"

Kit nodded slowly. “Sometimes.” He curled his hands into tiny fists. “I keep having these dreams. About running. About being fast.” He looked up at me, his expression wary, like he wasn’t sure if he should say what he was thinking.

I already knew what was coming, though, and my heart was singing. My son. He was more like me than he could ever know.

“Am I…” His voice wavered, but he straightened his spine, looking me in the eye. Brave when it really mattered, just like his mother. “Am I a shifter? Like you?”

I wasn't going to sugarcoat it or bury the lead. Kit asked, and I was going to give him full honesty. "Yes. You are"

Kit sucked in a quick breath, eyes going wide. Then, like he didn't remember how to form real words, he simply said, "Oh."

"It's something to be proud of, kid. Something to be happy about. It's what you are now, like me. Like everyone else that came before us both."

"Even Mama?"

I should have expected the question, but it didn't make it any easier to answer. "Ah, well. Yes and no. Your mother is a shifter, but...she has trouble with her shift. Have you ever seen her change shape, Kit?"

He blinked, his excitement dimming just slightly. Then, shaking his head, he said, “No.”

I stared at him. “Not even once?" It was almost impossible to believe. The urge to shift became impossible to ignore during parts of the moon cycle, and imagining ignoring that for my entire life was painful.

Another shake of his head. “She never really mentions it."

I exhaled sharply. Kiera still hadn’t shifted. After all this time? I thought she was just ignoring the instinct.

An Omega’s shift wasn’t like an Alpha’s. It was more instinctual, tied deeply to their emotions and their bond to their mates. But Kiera had been hiding for years, suppressing that part of herself. And now, it had trickled down to Kit.

That wasn't going to happen. Not to my son. Kiera might be content pretending that the shifter part of herself didn't exist, but Kit was itching to shift. To embrace his wild side.

I made a split-second decision and jumped into it before I could second-guess myself. “Do you want to learn?” I asked, watching him closely. “Do you want to shift?”

Kit’s entire body went still, like he was afraid if he moved, I’d take the offer back. “Really?!”

I couldn't stop my smile. "Yeah, really."

Kit's grin was so huge, his eyes so wide and eager that I was almost able to ignore how much this was going to piss Kiera off. She could be mad, or yell, or whatever she needed to do. But she wasn't going to let her rejection of her shift affect Kit any longer. I'd be damned if I let him spend another day confused about the shifter side of himself.

I walked Kit out into the middle of the backyard, crouching down in front of him and resting my hands on his little shoulders. His face was suffused with happiness and an unshakeable trust that threatened to crack my heart in half. Damn. Even after being separated for seven years, a son's trust in his father was still absolute.

“Alright,” I said, keeping my voice calm, steady. “Close your eyes.”

Kit obeyed immediately, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Take a deep breath,” I instructed, and he did, inhaling slowly and deeply. “Now another.”

I watched as he followed my lead, his small shoulders rising and falling as he breathed in the crisp afternoon air. I breathed in time with him unconsciously, my need to guide him through his shift instinctual.

“Good,” I told him quietly. “Now, I want you to listen to your body. There’s a part of you that isn’t just you, Kit. A part of you that’s waiting. Have you felt it before?”

Kit nodded, eyes still closed. “In my dreams.”

A sharp pang struck me deep in my gut. He’d felt it. He’d known it was there, the same way all shifters did. But he hadn’t been able to reach it. Was it the same for Kiera? Had she spent all those years of her life with that part of her straining for release? It must have made her miserable at times, caused her so much pain.

I pushed the thought away, focusing on my son. Kiera was an adult, but Kit was a child, and he needed my help.

“Good,” I said again. “That part of you—your wolf—it’s not separate from you. It is you. But you have to trust it. You have to let it come.”

Kit furrowed his brow, concentrating so hard I almost smiled. Almost, because as I watched him, patient and unrushed, the guilt started creeping in. I should have been patient back then, too. With another pack member who could have used this help, even if we had been nearly the same age at the time.

I should have helped Kiera the way I was helping Kit now. Instead, I’d done nothing. I let her struggle. I let everyone think she was weak, let her bear the weight of their judgment alone. She’d been a girl, an Omega, shouldering something I maybe could have eased. But I hadn’t even tried.

I clenched my jaw, forcing the guilt down once more. Now wasn’t the time for regrets.

“Kit,” I said, my voice softer now. “Don’t fight it. Just let it happen.”

He was trembling slightly, his breathing uneven, but then—then I felt it.

A shift in the air. The barest flicker of his energy surging toward something just beneath the surface. The feeling of a new pack member, right there on the precipice of joining the rest of us. I was almost choking with pride.

I pressed a hand to his shoulder, grounding him. “You’re right there, son. Just a little more.”

Kit let out a sharp exhale, his tiny body shuddering. For a second, I thought—damn.

Just as quickly as it had come, the energy slipped away. His eyes snapped open, wide and confused. “It’s stuck,” he blurted. “I can’t—” His little face crumpled in frustration.

I exhaled, keeping my grip on his shoulders so he didn't feel alone. “It’s okay. You’re doing good.”

Kit frowned, looking shockingly like his mother when she was annoyed. “I don’t feel good at it.”

I pulled Kit against me, pressing a steady hand to the back of his head. “You are good at it,” I told him. “And we’ll keep trying until it’s easy. I promise.”

His hands curled into my shirt, his body warm and trusting against mine when he leaned in for a hug. I couldn’t change the past; I couldn't go back in time and lead Kiera through her change, but I sure as hell could do better now.

There was another way, but it didn't give the pup a chance to slowly experience the first change, mitigating the pain of it. It was more forceful and usually reserved for when an Alpha needed to force a grown wolf into their other form for whatever reason, but I'd heard about it being used with stubborn pups, too.

It wasn't out of the question for Kit to need a few days to really find his change, but he sounded so heartbroken that I didn't want to make him wait. And if Kiera was going to find out that I was helping Kit with his shift, I needed to have something to show her. Otherwise, she'd be up my ass, demanding to be part of all of this that I wanted to keep between father and son.

So I did the only thing I could do to get Kit to relax—I squeezed him tight in a bear hug and held him. The weight of my son in my arms was more than enough to ease my tension, my thoughts, my aching chest.

"I have another idea," I told him as I slowly released him, "But it will hurt. The first few times always do, but this method can be rougher than normal."

Kit looked hopeful. "I don't care. I can take it."

I sighed. Fearless and stubborn. He was obviously Kiera's son.

"You'll be exhausted down to the bone afterward," I added. "Shifting takes a lot out of you even as an adult, but it shocks a lot of pups when they can barely keep their eyes open when they're back in human form."

"I wanna try. I can do it, Papa. I can. I swear. Show me!"

I exhaled and closed my eyes, reaching deep inside myself into the place where my pack bonds lived. Some burned bright, others were faded at the edges, and Kiera's glowed so beautifully that it was almost painful to look at, but I ignored them all. Instead, I searched for a single thread, new and pale.

Then I saw it, soft and fragile, like a string of a spider's web. New, but still connected to me, to the pack. Kit's thread.

I latched onto it, pouring my power into it to strengthen it and solidify the connection between us. I should have done this a long time ago, when I first learned of his existence, but better late than never.

Kit sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers gripping my wrists as he felt it too.

"There you go," I praised, "Hold onto that, Kit, and don't let go."

Then, with the full force of my power as an Alpha, I started my shift—

And pulled Kit through it alongside me.

Bones cracked and stretched. My muscles tore and rebuilt, my body reshaping itself in the way it had done a thousand times before. It was as natural as easy as breathing for me.

But Kit—his body fought it. He gasped, his little frame trembling as the change tried to take hold. I felt his hesitation through our bond, the instinctual fear of something unnatural taking over.

It’s okay, I told him silently, pouring reassurance into the connection. I’ve got you.

Kit clenched his teeth, his tiny hands fisting in the fabric of my shirt as his own shift finally started. His cry of pain nearly shattered me. But I held firm, my wolf rumbling in approval as my son—my pup—began his first shift at last.

Kit collapsed onto all fours, his body shaking like a branch in the wind, his breath coming in sharp, shallow pants. His bones had finally stopped shifting, his tiny form settling into something new.

My heart thundered in my chest as I stepped closer, lowering my head to get a better look. While he favored me in human form, I could clearly see his mother in his wolf form.

His fur was rich, chocolatey brown, darkening along his back and around his muzzle. But his eyes… his eyes. Silvery black, deep and endless, holding a quiet strength that took my breath away.

He looked just like her.

A wave of emotion hit me, so sudden and fierce that I had to dig my claws into the earth to keep myself steady. Kit—my son—stood before me on four legs for the first time. Small but strong. Shaken but whole.

He let out a surprised huff, lifting one paw off the ground and wobbling unsteadily. I chuffed in amusement, stepping forward so I could press my nose against his side, grounding him. Kit stilled, then hesitantly pushed his snout against mine, his instincts telling him just what to do.

Good boy, I thought, pride swelling in my chest.

I stepped back, allowing him to take me in fully. He blinked up at me, his silver-black eyes wide with awe. I knew what he saw. My wolf was impressive, the largest in the pack, and would scare the shit out of any other pup during their first shift. But not my son.

My pelt was a gray so pale it was almost white, and my eyes were even more intensely blue in wolf form. Kit’s wolf instincts immediately recognized me as his Alpha. But Kit, my son, fought through those instincts to cower and came forward to bump against me, yipping.

I let out a deep, approving huff. Welcome to the pack, son .

***

I took Kit on his first run through the forest, slow and easy. I made sure he was calm and focused, keeping him on task. I wasn't a mind reader, so I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but I did feel his excitement, and I reveled in it.

It was strange, feeling so connected to another wolf. But I'd always known it would be like this. Kit was my blood, after all.

Once we returned to the house, I should have made him shift back, but we both could sense that Kiera had returned home. I didn't need words to know that he was dying to show his mother his new form when he lay his head on his paws, whining and wagging his tail.

Kiera was going to lose it, and I knew I'd take the brunt of her anger, too, but what point was there in waiting? I huffed, shifting back and pulling on my discarded jeans before looking back down at my pup.

"Fine. But she's going to be shocked, kid. Don't take it personally if she isn't as excited as you want her to be."

He wagged his tail even harder, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

We walked around to the back porch, where I could see Kiera sitting with Nayeli and Gwen. I groaned internally—I hadn't expected an audience—but maybe the two more experienced she-wolves there would help temper Kiera's reaction.

The moment Kiera noticed me, she smiled in an easy greeting...until the pup walked out from behind my legs. Her entire body went stiff, the color draining from her face, and she blinked once. Twice. I watched her try to speak for nearly a solid minute before she finally managed words.

"Who...who is that, Samson?"

Nayeli and Gwen had already figured it out. My cousin squealed, covering her mouth with her hands, eyes shimmering with emotion. But both women gave Kiera space.

I let my hand drift down to ruffle Kit's fur, "Our son."

Kiera sounded like she was choking. I saw the war happen in real time—the unfiltered joy fighting tooth and nail with the fury rising behind her wide, silver-black eyes. I expected all of it, of course.

What I didn't expect was for her to rush forward, shoving me in the chest hard. "You—" her voice cracked, her eyes darting back to Kit. "You didn't even ask me? You couldn't have waited so I could be here for this?"

Tears were making her eyes glisten, bottomless pools of midnight, and damn, it actually hurt me. I was more fond of her than I wanted to admit, but I also wasn't going to back down from this. Helping Kit shift for the first time was owed to me. It was my right.

I set my jaw, holding my ground. “You were there for his first steps. His first words. His first everything. I wanted this.”

Kiera’s lips parted like she wanted to argue—but then her eyes flicked back to Kit, who was unsure about the argument, his tail between his legs. Like it always did when it came to Kit, all of the negativity Kiera was clinging to fell away when she saw how badly her son needed her.

She dropped to her knees, hands shaking as she reached for him. “Oh, baby,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Look at you.”

Kit pressed his little wolf body against her, tail wagging so fast it blurred. Kiera let out a watery laugh, running her hands through his fur, tracing over his face like she still couldn’t believe it.

And just like that, it was all okay. She didn’t care that I hadn’t asked. Didn’t care that she was furious with me. Right now, nothing mattered but Kit, and this incredible thing he had accomplished.

And as Nayeli and Gwen joined my mate to fawn over my son, Kiera forced her way even deeper into my heart.

***

Hours later, I carried Kit inside, his small body slack with exhaustion, his soft brown fur still warm against my arms. He’d been so damn happy about shifting that I hadn’t had the heart to force him to change back. But now, with the sun set and his energy drained to nothing, it was time.

Holding him close, I reached for the delicate bond between us, pushing my Alpha power into it, pulling him back through the shift. His small body trembled, and with a final shudder, the fur melted away, his frame rearranging itself until he was back to the boy I’d only just gotten to know.

Kit groaned unhappily as I set him on his feet, steadying him when his legs wobbled. "Shower," I ordered. "The hot water will help settle your mind, then straight to bed."

He gave a slow, tired nod, yawning hugely before shuffling off without an argument. Once I was sure he wasn't going to collapse, I chuckled to myself, heading to the kitchen. I grabbed a bottle of water, twisting the cap off just as I felt Kiera step into the room behind me. I didn't need to turn to confirm my guess; I'd recognize her energy anywhere.

Kiera didn't speak at first, and I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of breaking the awkward silence. After drinking half of the water, still in silence, I decided it wasn't worth winning the battle. I needed to know where she and I stood after tonight.

"Kiera..." I started turning, but she held up a hand.

"Don't. You were right. I had everything else from Kit's childhood. His first shift belonged to you."

I smirked, "Wait, you thought I was going to apologize? I don't do that."

She laughed, and I could tell she hadn't planned to be amused. I was getting under her skin as much as she was mine. And she smelled suspiciously delicious, more so than usual, but I chalked it up to the excitement of the day.

"You can't fool me, Alpha. I know you have a soft side for our boy."

“He's a good pup. Stubborn, like you, but good."

Her eyes rolled toward the sky, and I couldn't stop my grin. She was a pain in my ass, but at least she was entertaining. Nothing like the Omega I expected her to be, but I liked it.

I thought about how she'd looked earlier with Nayeli and Gwen, sitting on the porch laughing, looking settled. Like she belonged. Like she could be truly happy with the pack.

That was all I wanted for her. For Kit. The realization shook me. An Alpha couldn't afford to be soft, even towards his mate and pups, but I was falling into the trap of affection anyway. Then, the memory of the guilt I'd felt about not being there to help her shift years ago came crawling back, and I knew one thing as sure as I knew my own name.

I should treat Kiera better.

Setting my water down with a thunk on the counter, I turned fully toward her. “We’re going out tomorrow evening.”

Kiera blinked, startled. “What?”

“You heard me.” I stepped closer, watching the way her eyes went wide when I got close. Damn, she really did smell downright edible. “Be ready by six.”

Her lips parted, caught between an argument and curiosity, but I didn’t wait for either. I brushed past her, heading for the stairs. She could fight me all she wanted—hell, I expected it, but she was going out with me tomorrow, one way or another.

And I’d prove to her that she wasn’t just stuck here. The Saltfang pack wasn't her prison. Instead, she was home.