“Okay,” he says softly. “I can do that.”
I have to take another deep breath and blink hard against the stinging tears before I try again.
“I was only six when I went out on my first full moon ceremony. It was customary in my pack that when a shifter showed signs of their first shift, we would take out a small group on a full moon, and then the kids would shift, one by one, as they responded in different ways to the moonlight. Some needed coaching, others didn’t. They would run out into the woods, immerse themselves in their wolf, then return for a party. In the first few years, we’d only shift on a full moon until we were moremature and experienced with the change, so there was often a big group of kids running together and forming strong bonds.”
I pause for a moment, but Brad doesn’t say anything, just strokes my hand with his thumb, keeping our fingers laced together.
“My first ceremony, I didn’t shift. I didn’t feel a thing. My body wouldn’t react to the moonlight. The elders said no problem, this has happened before. You just need a few more years, and you’ll shift. Sometimes it takes time. But years went by, and I still didn’t shift.”
A little sob echoes in my throat, and Brad tightens his arms around me.
“I tried to make myself useful in other ways. I did great at school and helped with all the extracurricular activities. I took care of the new pups when they shifted, and I didn’t. But none of it helped. People began to turn their backs on me and act like I wasn’t even there when I spoke to them.”
“Oh, honey,” Brad whispers.
I sniffle a little, rubbing my nose. “My teachers didn’t look up when I handed in assignments. My parents didn’t notice if I didn’t come home. I don’t have much extended family, but they ignored me, too. It got so bad that I felt invisible walking down the street. I even began to wonder if I wasactuallyinvisible.”
“Jesus Christ,” Brad mutters.
“There was a little garden I liked to go to. It saved my sanity, because I knew that in turning the soil, tending the flowers, and looking after the little creatures, I mattered. I was real. One night, I just got up, turned in the opposite direction of home, and kept walking.”
“Heading out into the wilderness without supplies seems to be your thing,” he mutters.
Despite myself, I have to grin. “Well, I had a pack with a few things in it. But I didn’t have much trouble, honestly. I’d find edible berries to eat. I could follow lines of greenery to fresh water. It was peaceful. Eventually, I came to a town and found some work. It was much easier getting along with humans, even antisocial ones, than it was with shifters.”
“How did you end up in Vegas?”
“I decided I wanted to see a big city. Worked at little truck stops and stuff as I traveled. I found Vegas itself to be a bit intimidating, but on the outskirts, I discovered a nice little house and a bar I liked to work in.”
Brad moves a little behind me, and when he speaks, his voice comes out husky and soft. “How did you even end up working there?”
“I met a nice girl at the flower shop who told me they had good cocktails, so I went in one night. Hit it off with the manager and started working. It was a lot of fun.”
“You know it was a shifter bar, right?” he says. “It was practically a hub for all kinds of creatures.”
A little tingle of uncertainty trickles through me. “I didn’t know you went in there that much.”
“Only a couple of times,” he says. “When I was in Vegas, I stayed nearby.”
There are volumes to unpack right there, and I’m tempted to wade right into it, even if I end up in over my head. I’ve always wanted to know what he was doing in Vegas, why he kept such strange hours, and why he bailed without a trace after just a couple of months.
If I get started on that, I may never finish my story, and I really want to tell him everything.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, sighing. “Well, maybe it does, but I don’t want to talk about that part right now. I’m trying to explain how I ended up in the woods where you found me.”
“Your ex,” he mutters, anger rising in his tone.
“Yeah. After…you, I met Paul at the bar. He took me out for ice cream after work, and it was such a trip.”
I laugh softly, remembering my delight at ordering a stacked sundae at an ice cream parlor and playing the silly games you find on the back of placemats.
“It was so different from anything anyone had ever done before,” I say. “All these guys are trying to get me drunk or take me to a fancy casino, and this guy takes me out for ice cream.”
Brad’s arms tighten on me a little, but he doesn’t speak.
“Anyway. We went on a few dates like that, until he started staying over. I was still fairly bruised emotionally, so it didn’t get too deep, but before I realized it, I was changing myself for him.”
“Insidious,” Brad whispers.
