Page 36 of Shifting Years (Whispering Hills #5)

Mike

"That's it?" Penny asked, twirling a strand of grey hair around her finger. "You two made it through the eighties and beyond. Guess that means we're all caught up."

"Yeah, and we never get to say this in person to the Alpha or Omega that comes to us," I said.

"Everyone expects this amazing or profound secret, but the truth to staying together is appreciating and knowing what you got.

" I looked up into my Alpha's dark, forest-green eyes.

"I couldn't imagine a life without him."

He smiled back.

"And compromise. I gave in when necessary, for the good of our—"

His smile faded. "Oh, give me a break. You weren't the elevated one in this relationship. That was me: the soldier. I learned to let things go because I was tired of battles. Meanwhile, you? Still chasing causes like a hippie in '69."

Penny's smirk stopped us mid-argument. Before Todd could even look for a pen, I slapped one into his palm. On paper, he wrote notes for Kim and Jack. If they wanted, they'd know how the story ended.

"But we lived," I said. "Raised two pups and made sure Angel had brothers.

She visited as much as she could, and I'll have her see you and Mary next time.

" I walked over to a filing cabinet and my hand rested on a drawer labeled 'Accommodations'.

There were files for shifters with anger problems, others who drank, different sex drives, income levels, and the list continued.

We saved stories for future couples, because one day we won't be here. For now, the deal is to personally help every Alpha and Omega who didn't get along.

I returned to the dining room. Shifters aren't clumsy, but my power sometimes demanded little nudges, like stumbling against Todd. His hand brushed over Penny's open palm, and he shot me a narrow look.

Penny's breathing quickened and she bit her lip. "Oh, gosh. I'm sorry. It's tearing you up something awful!"

She didn't say what he had to do. He already knew. Soon, my mate would have to say goodbye to someone he loved.

***

I cleaned our cabin in silence, doing my best to spare my love any extra stress. If our sons were still around, they could have distracted him so he wouldn't obsess, but it was just us again. This responsibility was mine.

I turned to the mailbox, acknowledging the growing pull. Todd needed something out there soon, but not now. A tall approaching shadow took me out of my daydreams. I leaned back against his hard stomach and chest muscles.

Above the fireplace, on the white stone wall, rested photos. Most humans didn't come in, so nobody would suspect two men who aged too slowly through the decades.

A faded color one had us on stage in the early eighties with thousands of men and women in San Francisco. I repeated his voice with a serious, military inflection. "I'm Todd, and I love another man named Mike… because he's amazing."

"I didn't say the last part." My Alpha paused. "I should have."

"I heard what you didn't say." The man who hid from everyone, including himself, opened up to a crowd. To the cheers of all, except the Anita Bryant protesters, he kissed me. Then we left, so the next couple could tell their story.

Other photos were reminders. Todd was smart with money, and we helped shelters that shouldn't have to exist but did. Gay kids got a roof over their heads while they figured things out.

Sally, the bartender who was kind to a confused kid, got seed money for an upscale pub in New York.

A male couple who explained love and life to a young Omega aged a decade before we slipped out of their lives.

In secret, we were an unknown 'angel' investor when they bought a bed and breakfast in Vermont.

Amazingly, it was in Todd's old hometown.

A shared friend opened an art and photography gallery. Thousands of photos and a hundred paintings came from his 'walkabout' after Vietnam. More followed once his spirit healed. Bobby's the only one we can still see, and that time will end soon.

"There aren't many left from the eighties…" My voice cracked. "Doesn't seem fair, does it? We lived and others didn't."

"People die," said Todd. There was no cruelness in his tone. The man saw more death than I did. Squad members, fellow POWs, friends who died of a 'gay flu', and a cruel parent. For all my power, I never found anything besides time to dull his pain.

A gravel crunch alerted us to the mail delivery, and I left, but not before running soft fingers over his chest. He'd be in the past for a bit.

Thankfully, our mail carrier was a shifter, so the magic of Whispering Hill's forgetfulness didn't affect our deliveries. Between bills laid a thick envelope from Kim and Jack. I handed it to Todd, and he swallowed. The first domino tipped, and others would fall.

Like so many times before, we laid the photos out on the table.

Kim and Jack both had their bright red mohawks, and I had to admit, it did look good on him.

Pictures showed two men at an equal number of country and punk bars.

Kim even had a cowboy hat in one, aiming finger guns at the camera.

Ticket stubs were from events in different music genres.

All split down the middle to be fair to the other.

We picked photos and tickets that felt right, gluing them to the last page of a heavy scrapbook, already bursting with other paper memories. Mild electricity pulsed back, and the book slammed closed.

Todd didn't turn around, but his voice remained steady. "Hello, ladies." The air changed, colder, heavier. Goosebumps ran over my skin, and they wouldn't leave until the witches did.

We turned and as they looked decades back was a tall Hollywood-glamorous redhead.

Today she had a sparkly beige outfit. At her side, Dawn had her dark hair pulled back.

The heavy book flew to them and they each placed a hand on the scrapbook.

Their shoulders rose, and their expressions softened, like someone savoring the last bite of a perfect meal.

"Ask," they said together.

Todd swallowed. "I…"

"We will give you a gift, for you'll have pain soon," said Dawn.

"So, I'm going to pick Donna?"

"You will," said Tina before her voice softened. "You were not to blame for her injuries or choices in her life."

"But I don't have any other power." Todd gestured to me. "My man knows what people need. Mary can't be poisoned. Our governor sees—"

"Donna and other humans affected their reality, not you," said Tina.

"You believe you wished for events to happen, and you are dangerously close to making it a reality.

The consequences of a continued belief would be disastrous, and we must correct you.

" The tall redhead pointed a slow finger at Todd.

"Your mate's gift is knowing what people need. Yours? Being the one they need."

"Sometimes," said Dawn, "the most powerful ability is unnoticeable, but you have power."

"To be needed?" said Todd. "That's it?"

"Yes," said Dawn. "For those with problems, you are the magic they require in their lives."

Both women gestured to the book filled with paper mementos. Other books from decades past appeared and opened to random stories. Tiny, rotating portals hovered in the air.

Dawn pointed to a dark-skinned Omega with red hair. "Without advice from an older Alpha who served in battle, he would have left and killed his mate with loneliness."

Tina pointed to a community center in San Francisco.

"Without funds, it would have closed and helped no young souls.

" She didn't need to finish for us to imagine homeless kids.

Portals opened and flashed too quickly to see, yet we knew.

Some died, others lived with no mate, but everyone was worse off in alternate timelines that thankfully never happened.

Dawn didn't touch me, but I felt soft fingertips along my jaw.

"You wanted to change the world and did.

One shifter and human at a time. Your experiences touched lives, who touched others, who touched more, and so on.

Ripples throughout the world, Michael. People you don't know are indebted to you both. "

I swallowed hard. The spirit of the sixties lived through two wolves.

Todd spoke slowly. "So, I never hurt people with my wishes?"

"No," said Dawn. "However, you will pain yourself with one."

My Alpha stared back with shiny eyes. "She's not old."

"Not everyone lives to your age," said Tina. Images of Todd's squad in Vietnam appeared and faded away. Todd's hand fisted before relaxing.

"Would this be the best for her?" I asked.

"If she lives, she will suffer." Dawn gestured, showing an older woman with long white hair. She was in a clean hospital room, but the wall calendar showed a date several years from now. It seemed like a warm summer day, but the older lady trembled as if freezing.

Todd turned and the image disappeared. "I love her and still do. Not in the way she deserves, but there is something."

I made my peace with it a long time ago. Todd's heart was big enough for me, three children, and one ex-fiancée. You can't help who you love. Sometimes that means going against society. Other times, it meant sharing. I was his priority, but he'd never stop loving her.

"What do I ask for?" whispered Todd before puffing his cheeks out. My power suggested nothing except quiet. Many times what people needed was nothing except someone's presence.

"I wish… for whatever is best for her to happen." Todd exhaled, gripping his hands. "Did I say it right?"

"As much as you could," said both women.

***