Page 31

Birdie

If someone had told me a month ago I’d be spending my afternoon sitting in a tiny Knoxville bridal boutique while my pregnant best friend sobbed in a beaded gown, because she was marrying a biker who turned into a fox, I’d have told ‘em to lay off the moonshine. Hell, I’d have them committed. But here we were, lace, tulle, and a whole lotta hormones.

“Eliza,” I murmured, gently pulling the veil off her head. “You look like a fairytale.”

She stared at herself in the mirror, her growing belly round under a flowy A-line dress that sparkled like river light. Then her lip trembled, and just like that, the tears started again.

“I can’t marry him, Birdie.”

I blinked. “Well, that’s one way to lose your deposit.”

She let out a wet laugh, half-sob, half-snort. “I’m serious.”

“I know,” I said softly, stepping closer, brushing a tear off her cheek. “But why don’t you tell me what’s got you unraveling like a spool of grandma’s yarn?”

She sank onto the velvet stool in front of the mirror, dress puffing around her like an expensive cloud. “Knox told me everything. About Mark. ”

I froze. “Everything?”

She nodded. “He didn’t just die in prison. He was killed. By an animal. Ripped out his throat.”

My throat tightened. I looked away, busying my hands with the sample bouquet I’d been carrying around like a damn idiot. “Do you know who?”

She shook her head. “No. And I didn’t ask. I don’t think I wanna know.”

Smart girl.

“But it’s gotta be him.”

“Eliza, I…”

“There’s more,” she cut in, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Knox said Mark wasn’t born a shifter. He was made.”

I blinked. “Made? Like us?”

“No. Apparently some priestess did it. Not by bite. By chicken magic. Dark Voodoo shit. Which means…”

“Emma,” I breathed, already knowing the answer.

“Exactly.” Her voice cracked. “If he was turned before she was conceived, she might be different too.”

My brain spun with all I’d been holding back from my best friend, as I was reminded, Emma. Sweet, bubble-blowing Emma. Different. Targeted .

“He thinks that’s why Mark kidnapped us,” Eliza continued. “And why those men wanted her blood. For something.”

I didn’t know what to say. Hell, there wasn’t anything to say that would make it better. It was awful. I couldn’t muster a classic birdie smile. I wasn’t just a shifter. Something in me had changed. Or maybe it was simply my eyes were open to a new dangerous world.

She sniffled and stared down at her hands. “I’m about to call off the wedding.”

My chest clenched. “Why?”

“Because he kept it from me. Lied, even if it was by omission. How am I supposed to trust him after that?”

I knelt in front of her, gripping her cold hands. “Because he loves you. And because he did it to protect you. Not saying it was right, but I’ve seen how that man looks at you. Like you hung the damn moon.”

She started crying again. Big, hiccupy sobs that pulled at every tender string I had left in me.

“I haven’t even shifted,” she whispered. “What if I’m broken, Bird?”

“You’re not.”

“You didn’t see the look on Knox’s face last week. He bit me again, just to try to stir something. Nothing happened. No bond. No instincts. Nothing. ”

I squeezed her hands tighter. “Maybe it’s the pregnancy. Maybe your fox is just waiting ‘til the baby’s born to come out.”

“That’s what Knox said too.” Her bottom lip trembled. “Rumor is, I’m a dud. A failed bite.”

“Well, if you are, you’re the most badass dud I’ve ever met,” I said firmly. “And Knox still wants to marry your dud ass, doesn’t he?”

She let out a watery chuckle. “Yeah.”

“I say it’s a blessing. Just be happy, woman. You got a good man. A cute baby on the way. And a dress that makes you look like a damn queen.”

She sniffed, swiped at her eyes, and stood. “Okay. But first…”

I raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I need pickle pizza.”

I wasn’t gonna lie, pickle pizza sounded like the devil’s invention.

But Eliza was pregnant and glowing, crying and hangry, and I wasn’t about to get between her and her cravings.

We ended up at a place off the strip in downtown Knoxville. Looked like a dive bar, but the sign out front said, “Craft Crust.” All reclaimed wood and Edison bulbs inside like some hipster had thrown up in there.

Eliza waddled her way to the booth and plopped down with a dramatic sigh, fanning herself with the menu .

“You sure about this?” I asked, scanning the list of toppings with suspicion.

“Trust me. It’s got creamy garlic butter, spicy dill pickles, and buffalo sauce. It’s magic.”

I narrowed my eyes. “That sounds like a hate crime against Italian food.”

“You’ll thank me,” she said, grinning like a cat who’d just robbed a fish truck.

When the pizza came, I had to admit… it smelled good. Weird. But good.

One bite in, I hated how much I liked it.

“Damn you,” I muttered, mouth full.

“I know.” She smirked, drinking a pickle lemonade. Just some regular lemonade she asked them to pour some pickle juice in.

We sat there a while, just eating and people-watching. My best friend finally looked relaxed for the first time all day, eyes half-lidded, a hand lazily rubbing her belly as she leaned back.

“Y’know,” she said. “Sometimes I think about leaving it all behind.”

“The club?”

She nodded. “All of it. The bikers. The supernatural stuff. The danger. Just pack up, run away somewhere. Take Emma. Raise her in some normal town where the weirdest thing is a bad PTA bake sale. ”

“Sounds peaceful,” I said, taking another bite. “Also sounds boring as hell.”

She laughed. “God, you’re right. I’d lose my damn mind. Besides, I just read in the third trimester, I’ll be horny as hell, and what will I do then? The things that biker can do…”

I about choked on my drink. “Yeah, they got BSDE. Big shifter dick energy.” I chewed for a second before saying, “You’re allowed to be scared, Eliza. But you’re also allowed to be happy. They ain’t mutually exclusive.”

She reached across the table and squeezed my hand, like the dangerous levels of sodium she just consumed settled her down. “You’re a good friend, Birdie. Like, the best kind.”

We finished the pizza and then, because she was still hungry and the baby apparently had a separate stomach for dessert, we wandered to an ice cream parlor down the block. I got salted caramel. She got a half-and-half of pickle sorbet and vanilla.

“I swear to God,” I said, staring at her cup. “That’s an abomination.”

“Says the girl who used to dip fries in milkshakes.”

“That’s different. That’s an American tradition.”

She snorted.

As we sat on a bench out front, I glanced over at her. The evening breeze tugged at her dark hair, and the lights from the storefronts cast a soft glow on her skin.

“You’re gonna be okay, y’know,” I said.

She gave me a skeptical look.

“I mean it. Knox loves you. Emma adores him. This baby? She’s gonna have the best damn mama on this side of the Smokies.”

Eliza’s eyes filled again, but this time, she didn’t cry. Just nodded slowly, like she was letting herself believe it.

“I hope you’re right.”

“I always am.”

“You’re really not,” she teased. “But we’re in this together. Right?”

I nodded.

We finished our ice cream staring out at Knoxville, the light glinting off the Sunsphere tower in comfortable silence. The kind only years of friendship can give you. The kind that felt like home.

Then she asked, soft as smoke, “Has Rocky popped the question, yet?”

I blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

I stared at my empty cup. “He’s not even said he loves me.”

She leaned back, resting both hands on her belly. “Does he need to? ”

It was nearly dark by the time I dropped her back off at the Wild Dog. Knox came out the second the headlights hit the lot, like he’d been standing there the whole damn time, waiting on her. His eyes locked on Eliza’s belly first, then scanned her face, softening with that rare tenderness he only ever showed her.

“Baby,” he murmured.

She looked at him for a long second. No words. Then she walked right up to him, threw her arms around his neck, and clung to him like a life raft.

I stayed in the car, watching from behind the wheel as Knox gathered her up like she was glass. He kissed her temple, her cheek, then dropped to one knee, pressed his hand to her belly and whispered something I couldn’t hear.

My throat tightened.

That biker Prez might’ve been a fox shifter with too many secrets, but he sure as hell loved her.

When Eliza turned and motioned for me to come out, I stepped into the cool night and smiled as Knox came up and wrapped me in a rare but genuine hug.

“Thanks for taking care of her,” he said gruffly.

“Always.”

He pulled back and looked at me like he wanted to say more but didn’t .

Instead, he just nodded, one hand on Eliza’s back, and the two of them headed inside together.

I lingered by my car, taking a second to breathe in the night. The stars were bright tonight.

And that’s when Rocky’s voice came from the shadows behind me. “You girls have fun?”

“I felt you lurking, Wolfman?”

He stepped out of the dark, arms crossed, leaning on the post like he’d been there the whole damn time. “You’re glowy, Sunshine.”

Knox and Eliza had brought a sappy tear to my eye, so I swiped at it. “I’m just sweaty and full of pickles.”

He grinned. “Birdie. Brother in the club’s named Pickles. So please don’t say that phrase ever again.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled back.

“How’d he get that name?”

“Apollo, Old Prez had a pet named Pickles.”

“A dog?”

“No, a bunny.”

Narrowing my eyes, I wanted to hear more. I was devouring all the shifter secrets Rocky was allowed to share with me now, that I was his mate. But I hesitated. He called me his mate, but nothing was official. Not in the human world or even the biker one. No tattoo, no cut. I wasn’ t his ol’ Lady.

His brow creased like he could sense my unease. “How’s your friend?”

“She’s okay. Better, anyway.”

His expression turned serious. “And you?”

I hesitated. Then said, “I’m getting there.”

There was a pause, thick and weighty. He stepped closer. “You wanna be all glowy for another reason?”

I stiffened. “Rocky…”

“Just answer me. Our own litter?”

“No,” I said firmly. “I’m not having a baby, yet.”

He nodded slowly, but there was something sad behind it. “Alrighty.”

We stood there a beat longer.

“You coming to my place?” I asked.

“Only if you promise not to feed me any damn pickle pizza.”

I laughed and bumped his arm. “No promises.”

The stars above blinked lazy and slow. And I felt like I was catching Eliza’s hormones. Because I couldn’t help but wonder why the biker who marked me, claimed me, the wolf who said he was my mate hadn’t even returned my, ‘I love you’ but was talking about having a litter.

“You feelin’ it?” Rocky murmured, lips near my ear.

Too many emotions. I swallowed. “Yeah.”

My body had been buzzing since the moon rose, and not just from the adrenaline. Something deeper. Wilder. Like the beast inside me was stretching, getting ready to run. Wanting to mate. Make a little wild thing of our own.

“You wanna run?” he asked.

I hesitated, but then I nodded. “Yeah.” I hadn’t shifted since the day I saved Emma. Never on purpose.

Rocky took my hand and led me through the trees, away from the clubhouse noise, into the hush of the woods. The moon lit our path, silver and strange, casting long shadows that danced between the branches.

We walked in silence, the only sounds the crack of twigs underfoot and the soft rustle of leaves in the warm breeze. My heart beat hard in my chest, not from fear. No, not that. Anticipation. Like I was standing on the edge of something big, and all I had to do was jump.

He stopped near the creek that ran behind the clubhouse. Now, it felt sacred. Like something old lived in these woods. Something waiting for me.

Rocky turned to face me, eyes dark and full of fire. “You sure?”

“No,” I said, breathing deep. “But I wanna be. ”

That made him smile.

We undressed. He stepped behind me, his hands on my hips, his mouth at my ear. “You’re gonna feel it in your chest first,” he whispered. “Then everywhere.”

I nodded, lips parting as the ache deepened.

“Let it come,” he said. “Don’t fight it. You were made for this.”

And then it hit.

My knees buckled, and I dropped, gasping.

My skin went hot, then cold, then hot again. Bones stretched. Muscles twitched. My whole body felt like it was being rewired. My vision blurred, then sharpened into something beyond human. I could see every leaf, every insect, every fleck of dust in the moonlight.

The shift came slower this time, less violent, more… fluid. My bones still cracked, sure, and my skin still burned as fur pushed through, but it felt like a rite of passage instead of a punishment.

“Rocky,” I gasped, but it came out in a yapp.

“I’m right here.”

He shifted beside me, his body unraveling into gray and shadow and fur. He didn’t scream, just moved, graceful as breath, until the man I loved was a wolf the size of a damn bear, with eyes like sunrise.

I looked down.

My hands were paws.

“Oh, hell,” I muttered in my head. I heard Rocky laugh back.

We’re linked now, came his voice, inside me, not with words, but a feeling that lit up my spine like fireworks. I got you.

The forest sang around us. The pack was near, I could feel them in the distance, wolves I hadn’t met yet, all of ‘em calling to me in some deep, ancient language my new body understood.

“Alright, Sunshine. Let go,” his voice came from the inside.

We touched noses, just for a second. It felt like kissing. Maybe it was.

Then we ran.

I hit the dirt on all fours, panting as the forest exploded into color and scent and sound. I could hear bugs burrowing under bark. Smell the deer half a mile off. Feel the heat of Rocky’s wolf beside me, it’s fur the color of stone in sunlight.

We weren’t just bodies moving through trees.

We were beasts.

Soon, we were a pack as we met up with other wolves. Somehow, I recognized the men and women from the club. Together we tore through the forest like wildfire, leaping logs and splashing through the creek. Rocky stayed close, flank to flank, always aware of me, always watching. The wind in my fur, the moon overhead, the taste of earth and starlight in my mouth. It was the freest I’d ever felt.

Eventually, we slowed. Rocky led just us back to the ridge above the clubhouse where we could see the firelight glowing in the distance. Music had started up, someone strumming a guitar, voices laughing and shouting. A celebration was brewing .

We shifted back behind a line of thick brush, skin prickling and breath coming hard. I collapsed onto the cool grass, still buzzing from the run. Rocky sat beside me, pulling me close.

“That was…” I struggled to find words. “Unreal.”

He pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “You did perfect.”

“I could hear you,” I said. “Even in wolf form. Not with my ears, but in my head. Like… like I knew what you were thinking.”

“What did you hear?” he said, quiet.

Shaking my head, I was too embarrassed to say it.

“How much, I love you?”

I nodded. “I didn’t think I could feel closer to you,” I whispered.

Rocky turned my face to his and kissed me like it was a promise. “You’re mine,” he growled against my lips. “Of course, I love you, Sunshine. It killed me to wait to tell you, but I wanted it to be special.”

I didn’t think I could love the biker more but was proven wrong.