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“Have you told Lana?” I asked.
Travis nodded. “Yeah, we had a long talk about it last night. Honestly, she was a big part of what convinced me. I talked to her, and she gave me the names of some people to chat with in the pack. After those conversations, I was pretty much certain that this was the right choice for me.”
“Lana was supportive?” Marley asked. “She wasn’t worried you’d get hurt or something?”
“She’s daunted, yeah. But she knows it’s something that I feel I need to do, so she’s promised to be there for me every step of the way.”
I shot Travis an exasperated look, a subtle one I knew only he would catch. He met my gaze and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I mean, she definitely has her reservations,” he added quickly. “It’s a pretty big decision, and the process can be dangerous.”
Marley’s lips quirked to the side. “Yeah, that’s true,” she said. “But you guys will be able to enjoy a lot more time together after going through it. You’ll be able to connect in a really unique and special way.”
At that, Travis gave a tender, lovesick smile. “Yeah,” he said with a rare, quiet sobriety. “It’ll be nice to share that with her, and with Cole and Noah, too. It will finally feel like my chosen family is my real family.”
Marley smiled at him and nodded. “Yeah, that’s so wonderful,” she said.
I hated that I could feel the somber ache of pining envy coming from her. I hated knowing that my fears and insecurity over her safety were making her feel that way. Truth be told, I pined for a lot of those things as well: running through the forest with my mate, the wind gusting through our fur, the cool earth beneath our feet. I imagined how her howl would sound.
I wanted those things, but I didn’t want them so badly that I was willing to put Marley’s life at risk. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her to be a shifter. I just didn’t want her to get hurt trying to assimilate.
But it pained me that it was hurting her to hear Travis talking about this. To know that he was starting the process she so badly wanted to start herself, but that she could only watch while I did everything to keep her from endangering her life.
I was caught between a rock and a hard place.
“So, how did your talks go today, Cole?” Travis asked.
“Good. I met up with Gramps and asked him about some of the logistical minutiae when it comes to pack life. Obviously, he’s pretty staunchly in support of buying a huge chunk of land and treating it more like a commune, but he did give me some insight into how we can run it more like something that slots into people’s lives rather than something people have to pack up and move into.”
“Yeah? Like what?” Jack asked.
“Well, I think we should probably look into building a community center, kind of like the one we were hanging out in last night,” I replied. “Something close to the forest so we have an outlet for folks who want to engage in some of the wilder aspects of being a shifter. It might also be nice to have some sort of dormitory for people who come into the pack after leaving abusive situations.”
“Nice,” Travis said. “How we gonna foot the bill for all of that, though?”
“Gramps told me I can apply for a federal grant,” I replied. “Some bill got passed a few years ago that gives grants to packs in areas where there are no formalized groupings of shifters. The initiative started when a few lone wolves were having a rough time in their communities. So, we’ve got some homework to do when we get back home, but from the research I’ve been doing, we have all the qualifications.”
“Probably should tap in Houston on that one,” Travis suggested.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “If not for the paperwork, then to get us in touch with someone who knows what they’re talking about regarding the paperwork.”
“This is so exciting,” Marley said next to me. “Could we open the dorms to human women escaping abusive shifters, too?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “And I’d love to work with you on figuring out what we should have for those women—and hell, the men, too. Even if it’s not as common, I’m sure there are plenty of human men who have experienced the same kind of controlling abuse.”
Jack nodded as if he knew firsthand that there were. I wondered how many shifters he’d talked to while working on his docuseries.
As we chatted about the possibilities for our pack, a waiter approached the table and took our orders. Marley ordered her requisite mozzarella sticks as a starter along with a chicken pasta dish. I got a steak. Jack ordered a wedge salad, and Travis went for some sliders. Standard American fare. I still wasn’t sure what was so special about this place, but I wasn’t about to ask.
As the night wore on, the restaurant only got busier, making it harder and harder for us to talk. Finally, we gave up talking when music started playing and a DJ encouraged people to get on the dance floor. Marley, already two beers in, took my hand and led me out of the booth to dance in the aisle.
I laughed and lifted her off the floor, carrying her bridal-style. “Let’s find the actual dance floor,” I said. “I’d hate for our dancing to end with a plate of pasta down your shirt.”
She giggled, clearly a little tipsy. “Yeah, that’s maybe not the sexiest food to eat off your girlfriend.” She pointed ahead like she was instructing an army to charge. “To the dance floor!”
“Aye, aye, captain!” I said eagerly.
It took a while, but we finally found a small dance floor near the bar. The music was mostly country music with some old dance tracks sprinkled in. This place was nothing like Night Shift, the bar where we’d met and shared our first dance. Instead of neon lights and glitter, it was more cowboy boots and scuffed wood floors.
