Chapter Ten: Rex

D amon wasn't wrong, but I still couldn't believe what I had almost done. I felt like I had let us both down.

I promised him that we'd go at his pace and then bam! One orgasm later and I had handed my brain over to my alpha side.

Great work, Rex.

It was like I kept taking one step forward and three steps backwards when it came to building a relationship with Damon. Even though I was older, I felt like I was a na?ve teenager learning how to date for the first time.

Admittedly, I hadn't ever really had a relationship last more than a couple of weeks, but I wasn't some dumb kid. I was in my forties, for fuck's sake.

That just made my impulsive behavior feel worse. Surely, at forty-two, I should have been able to control myself better than I had.

"Stop beating yourself up back there," Damon chided. "I can practically hear you thinking. "

I snorted, trying not to jostle us any more than necessary. Being locked inside him felt good, but the additional stimulation to my knot was starting to border on painful. Slowly, I stroked my hand over his hip and then slipped it back under his shirt, gently resting my palm on the curve of his belly. I could feel the light thumping of our son's little limbs against the walls of his fleshy cell. It was still wholly bizarre to feel, but instead of freaking out, it made me smile.

"I just wanna do right by you," I said after I gathered my thoughts enough to explain them. "We both know bonding right now would be a dumb idea, but I still—"

"I'm just going to go ahead and blame our biological imperative for that," he said, and it didn't sound as though he was angry with me. "My omega is whining at me to bare my neck and demand that you claim me, too."

"But you had the wherewithal to stop me. I—"

"You are still learning how to manage your shifter instincts." He paused, then softened his tone. "Nothing happened. We're okay. I'm not going to kick you out of bed and my apartment as soon as your knot deflates."

"I still wouldn't blame you if you did."

He was quiet for a moment before he said, "And that's how I know you're a good man, Rex."

Even though the shifter side of me was sulking at not having gotten its way, it preened at the words of praise, and I felt relieved that I hadn't undone all the progress I had made with Damon to that point.

"I feel like I hit the jackpot with you, kitten."

He laughed, and I groaned at the movement, trying to enjoy the pleasure/pain as it rolled over me. "Let's see if you're still saying that when I'm even bigger and moodier."

* * *

After the success of our first date, I made an effort to take Damon out again and again, sticking true to my word of changing plans whenever necessary. I also further solidified my place in Shifters Sanctuary, getting a job at a nearby farm.

The family who owned the farm were apparently fox shifters. Sam and Becca were a beta couple with their omega son, Tim, and they were wary of me at first, only giving me a chance because Beck asked them to. However, by the end of my second full day of work, they'd all but adopted me as an honorary member of their family.

It was nice, and I'll admit I got a little choked up when I realized that I actually felt like I belonged. I might have been a cat —and a cat who couldn't actually shift yet at that— but I was still a shifter like them. In their world, being attracted to other men was considered totally normal. I wasn't disappointing them, or any other kind of bigoted nonsense. If anything, they became invested in my budding relationship, and were insanely excited about the baby I'd be having in only a few short months.

For the first time in a long time, I felt good about where my life seemed to be heading.

I even spoke to Eric about buying one of the cottages he owned on the edge of the town's limits. Sitting vacant, it was old and a little dilapidated, but it had character and with a bit of hard work and spit-shine, it would make the perfect home for a little family like the one I hoped to make with Damon and our son.

And by the time Christmas Eve was upon us, I was barely panicked about the prospect of being a father. Watching Beck with his little ones had helped with that. They were cute little things, and he seemed to genuinely enjoy them. It gave me hope that I would feel the same way about my own. I even felt more confident about taking care of my kid, having practiced changing diapers and bottle-feeding Beck's pair on a couple of occasions. I figured, if I could muck out a stable, I could change a diaper. I'd been half right. But, with practice, I'd eventually proven I could do the latter just as proficiently as the former. Ollie had even joked that I did a better job than his mate, much to Beck's bemusement.

Secretly, I thought Ollie was looking forward to redeeming himself with Beck later.

Damon and I spent Christmas Eve together in his apartment. I cooked him a meal based on his latest cravings (creamy pasta with extra bacon) and we snuggled together on his couch watching Christmas movies. I would have happily spent the next couple of days doing the same thing, but he had agreed on my behalf to join him and most of the town at Ollie and Beck's house for the first annual ‘Shifters Sanctuary Holidays For Strays' event.

Yeah, apparently Oliver was insane for Christmas and wouldn't let anyone spend the holidays alone. Even though I would have happily spent the holidays with only Damon, I thought it was a sweet gesture on Ollie's part, as well as a smart one. The town was a pack, after all, and I was beginning to understand the nuanced differences between being friendly neighbors and being pack.

Being pack felt like being part of a family, but it also felt like more than that. It was hard to explain why, especially when Shifters Sanctuary's shifters were so eclectic.

Damon had been teaching me how to scent, and it had blown my mind to realize that the town contained shifters of such varied breeds and backgrounds. Hedgehogs, wolves, tortoises, dragons, rabbits, foxes…hell, there were even a couple of giraffes, which I thought was kind of hilarious. I figured they were able to blend in with the same ease as Brandt, Eric, and Sage (that was to say: none at all).

But, for all their physiological differences, the townspeople cared deeply about each other, even if they didn't always see eye to eye.

Having lived among them for the better part of a month, I was beginning to care, too.

* * *

"I've gotta give it to Ollie," I said, yawning and stretching in my chair, resting my wrist on Damon's shoulder, "this shindig was a great idea."

Under the two marquees they had set up on their property, Ollie and Beck were holding court at the other table, which ran parallel to the one we were seated at. I didn't think I'd seen Rory or Duke set down even once in the playpen that had been set aside for them. Instead, the babies had been passed around what felt like every member of the town, not that either of them seemed at all fazed.

The food had been wonderful, and as we had sat and talked with our tablemates, I'd once again felt that deeper-than-family connection.

Pack , the voice inside me —the one I associated with my inner alpha— said, sounding content, mine.

I'd never felt anything like this feeling before. Not really. My adoptive family had been kind and affectionate until I'd hit my teens and my ‘proclivities', as my dad had called them, became obvious. But even then, I hadn't felt like I'd belonged. I supposed that maybe some part of me had always known I was different. Not just because I'd been adopted, or because I'd been a boy who liked boys, but because that alpha instinct was always there, simmering just out of my consciousness.

"Mmm," Damon echoed my yawn and leaned into me, resting his head on my shoulder. I slipped my hand down to his bicep and shuffled closer on my chair, soaking in his uninhibited public display of affection. No matter how innocent the gesture, it made my instincts sing. Something inside of me practically purred with satisfaction. "I ate too much," he grumbled, oblivious to the victory dance I was having in my soul. "Now I'm sleepy."

His hand rested over his baby bump and I wondered if our son was also tired after the feast, or if the giant servings of dessert Damon had eaten were going to give the kid a sugar buzz. I knew that drinking cold orange juice made the little thing bounce around like crazy inside his daddy, so maybe all the pudding and pie would, too.

Unable to help myself, I kissed the top of Damon's head. "Sleep, kitten. I've got you."

"You don't wanna come shift with us?" Royce, a teenaged bear shifter asked from beside me. He was all gangly limbs and pimpled cheeks — awkward and stuck in that phase between boyhood and adulthood. He had a sweet smile and had latched on to me from the moment he and his mom introduced themselves.

I'd never really felt empathy towards kids before, and I wondered if the soft emotions I felt when this random kid grinned up at me were my alpha's way of prepping me for fatherhood.

Setting those thoughts aside, I blushed, grateful for the dimming light as dusk turned to night, and I shook my head. "Nah, I'm beat. Ate so much, I think I'd turn into a pie rather than a puma."

Royce rolled his eyes while the other people around us laughed.

Truth be told, I still hadn't managed to shift. Beck assured me that it would happen when I was ready for it, but I honestly felt ready. I was settling into the pack. I wasn't panicked about becoming a father. I wanted to be with Damon in every way possible, including our animal forms. I was ready.

Except something inside me wouldn't budge.

It wasn't my inner alpha; I knew that much. He was just as desperate to shift as I was. Maybe even more so. But if I had come to terms with it, and my inner puma had come to terms with it, what was holding me back?

Eric, Ollie, and Brandt had various theories, too, of course. It kept coming back to the mating bond. After all, Beck hadn't tried to shift until after he and Ollie were bonded, so the scientifically-minded members of the pack seemed convinced that the bond must play a part in why I still couldn't shift. Eric even theorized that, even though I scented like a puma, it might take bonding to cement my ‘breed' of shifter, as he called it.

With no other alphas —bonded or otherwise— to test the theory, it seemed to make as much sense as any other, even if Beck wasn't convinced that was what was preventing my shift.

"Plus, someone's gotta help me mind Duke and Rory while Ollie and Beck run with the pack," Damon said, making additional excuses for me. He offered me an apologetic grimace. "Sorry: I volunteered us without asking you."

"Making sure your alpha gets more practice before your little one arrives?" one of the women a few seats down laughed with amusement at her own joke. I hadn't met her before, and even though I knew she meant no harm, I bristled at the old ‘men are bad with babies' stereotype.

I mean, yeah, okay: I hadn't been great with them before spending time with Beck's kids, but she didn't know that.

"Actually, it's me," Damon told her, and I wondered if I was projecting or if that was a slight edge to his tone. "I'm the one who needs a bit more practice. I'm not the most affectionate type, y'know?" He chuckled and it sounded rueful, but he snuggled in closer to me, the action belying his words. "Plus, Rex has become a pro at changing diapers and calming a cranky baby. Ollie says he's now at the top of their ‘Emergency Babysitter' list, right after Sandy, and Lena and Brandi, of course." I delighted in the pride I heard in his voice. For all he said he wasn't affectionate, he had his own love language.

Momentarily, I flashed back to the first time I had seen him. He'd been beautiful, with his long, dark hair tied back at the nape of his neck, telling some sleazy guy that he didn't speak English.

The memory made me smile. His sass and snark had called to me like a beacon.

Whatever language he was speaking now, I was picking up on what he might really mean. Even with his walls up, I understood him. But until he was comfortable letting me in for real, I'd give him time to work it out for himself. English or not, his love languages were enough for now.

Not wanting to focus on the concept of ‘ love languages' for too long, I reacted with amusement, "Not Eric?"

Damon snickered. "Eric's a great doctor, but outside of checkups or fixing boo-boos, that man is awkward AF with kids. It's funny." His expression turned thoughtful. "Brandt, on the other hand, is kind of a natural. That surprised me. He looks so gruff and serious, y'know? But Lance Baker brought his triplets into the clinic the other day —they're five, by the way— and Brandt turned into a big kid himself. It was really sweet."

Some immature part of me felt jealous at hearing that. I knew that Damon and Brandt were becoming good friends, but I also knew that Damon had a thing for older men, and Brandt was capital H hot. Omega or not, that dragon was everything Damon seemed to be interested in when it came to other men, and I wanted him to say that I was sweet.

I knew that was mostly my instincts flaring up and interfering with my rational thought, but it didn't make it any easier to push the thoughts aside.

Reminding myself that being a possessive, jealous dick about a man Damon was friends with would not win me any points, I forced a smile and went back to thinking about how he showed affection without saying the words. He didn't act like that with anyone else, only with me. That meant something.

"Looks can be deceiving," I agreed. Then I blinked and processed the rest of what he'd said. "Did you say triplets?"

"Multiples aren't uncommon with some shifter sub-species," Damon shrugged as though that wasn't a huge deal. "The Bakers are rabbits. It's particularly common to have twins and triplets in rabbit families."

My gaze drifted over to the side of the marquee, where Sandy had one of Beck and Ollie's kids propped on her hip, and Ollie was burping the other on his shoulder.

"I guess it's not that uncommon for wolves, either," Damon added, following my line of sight.

I swallowed roughly and looked pointedly down at his belly. He laughed and patted it. "I promise there's only one in there," he assured me. My elevated heart rate was just calming down as he added, "Mountain lion shifters aren't known for having multiples quite as often as some of the other sub-species, but it's not unheard of. It's the horses, cattle, giraffes…all the larger mammals, really…who generally only ever have one at a time."

"What about the dragons?" I asked, playfully wondering, "Do they lay eggs?"

His expression fell, causing my heart to sink with it. "There hasn't been a dragon alpha in hundreds of years."

Frowning, I tried to work that out. "Well, no, but betas—"

"They're a male-only species," Royce piped up at my side, and I jumped a little in my seat, having forgotten we weren't alone. He cheerfully continued, "So they've only got omegas left, which means they can't have any babies."

"Keep your voice down," his mom admonished him, leaning over her still half-full plate with her cutlery poised in her hands. "I don't think the Weldmans like to think on that a whole lot, and we shouldn't be bringing it up at Christmas. We're s'posed to be talking about happy things."

"Except…" I mused aloud, thoroughly confused, "if the last alpha died hundreds of years ago…" I turned around, craning my neck to try and catch sight of any of the three dragons who had made Shifters Sanctuary their home. My gaze landed on Eric, who looked my own age, and I frowned again. "How do they exist?"

"They're older than they look," Damon nudged me with his shoulder. "Like…by a few hundred years."

Well damn .

"I'd hate that," I said out loud before my brain could engage the filter between my thoughts and my mouth. "Think of all the friends you'd watch age and pass away…" I shuddered and shook my head. "I'll stick with a normal lifespan, thanks."

Damon blinked at me with wide, horrified eyes. "After Carole just said ‘don't bring down Christmas', that's what you come out with?"

"I didn't mean to!"

At my other side, Royce erupted into a fit of giggles, the traitor.

"Seriously," I scrambled to regain whatever ground I'd lost, "I'm sorry. My big mouth gets ahead of me."

Thankfully, Damon snorted and he nodded. "I know. I haven't exactly forgotten our reunion, remember?"

"So," I grabbed for my plastic cup of water and raised it in a toast, "Merry Christmas!"

* * *

"Jesus H Christ," one of the old bear shifters, Mortimer Drake, growled and glared down at his phone, disturbing the relaxed ambiance of the party.

Night had well and truly fallen, but the dragon-lit bonfires around the marquees were generating enough warmth to keep us all comfortable. Many of the families with young ones had either taken the kids up into Ollie and Beck's house to nap in what I was affectionately calling ‘puppy piles', and us grownups had lapsed into long stretches of companionable silence, sated by too much rich food and maybe a little bit too much alcohol for some, too. Chatter had dimmed to low, warm murmurs, and it felt kind of like my very earliest memories with my mama before she'd died.

Well it had, until Mortimer's loud complaint broke the contented air around us.

"Morty," his wife whined at his side, "you're being loud again."

Heads swiveled in their direction, most people wearing amused smirks at their antics. Smirks fell as he held up his phone with a scowl. "Morstein's issued a goddamned call to arms," he groused, and I noticed Beck and Ollie sit up a little bit straighter in their seats.

As the party had dwindled, we'd all moved to one table, and I had been enjoying getting to know even more members of the town. Now I was glad that we were all together because I was able to watch Beckett's reaction to Mortimer's announcement.

"What?" Beck gestured for the phone. "Explain."

I leaned towards Damon, whispering, "Wasn't Morstein that preacher guy? From the cult church?"

"The one that tried to have Beck kidnapped, yeah," Damon nodded, his eyes also glued on Beckett. "He basically controls most of the old-school packs. I'm pretty sure he gets, like, fifty percent of the monthly tithes or something. He's always creeped me out."

I nodded in understanding. I might have grown up human, but even we had our share of evangelical religions and whatnot, particularly down in the Bible belt. Not to mention my long-held personal belief that far too many wars were waged in the name of religion: though it was obvious that social power and money were the real driving forces.

Wasn't there a saying about absolute power corrupting people absolutely?

Beckett paled as he read whatever it was Morstein had posted online. "Is this guy for real?" he asked, sounding disgusted as he passed the device to his fiance. "Wasn't Moonmusic supposed to be a church? Preaching peace and love and good will to all mankind, especially at Christmas?"

Ollie scoffed and pointed at the screen. "Not when we're clearly such a danger to the shifter way of life." He seemed to be paraphrasing the text in front of him. "More like he doesn't want any of the old-school packs getting any ideas about getting out from under his thumb. Our numbers are already growing: that means less tithes headed his way, not to mention a drop in free labor."

"Plus the status of an alpha outranks him, and news is bound to get out that we've got two alphas now." Mortimer muttered, accepting his phone back. "Not that Ethel and I have ever cared 'bout status. Came out here for a better life for James, didn't we? Just 'cause he wasn't beta didn't mean he should be treated with any less respect than us. Saved us a pretty penny in tithes, too."

It was a story similar to most of the people living in Shifters Sanctuary, and I could understand why Morstein and his ‘church' would loathe the loss of more and more shifters.

"How many people do you really think are going to buy into his lunacy?" Tim, Sam & Becca's son, asked, looking to his parents for reassurance. They'd raised him in Shifters Sanctuary since he was only a couple of months old, because they hadn't wanted to subject him to the kind of life many other omegas suffered. "I mean, with a lot of that older generation, uh," he cringed as he looked over at Mortimer.

"Dying out. You can say it," Ethel waved him off dismissively .

"Yeah, well, with a lot of the older generation dying out, surely less and less people are quite as…zealous." Tim finished his thought. "Like, aren't the younger generations more likely to use critical thinking skills or whatever?"

"If they've been raised with the ability to think for themselves, sure," Damon offered, shrugging. "My pack back in New Mexico made most of our folk homeschool, and only the basics. Critical thinking skills were discouraged. They don't want you to know just how unfair their treatment is."

"Mine were the same back in Virginia," Ollie agreed with a nod. I noticed that he had picked up one of the paper napkins and was twisting it between his fingers. "I applied for every scholarship and grant to get into a college —any college— just to escape it."

"Me too," Damon sighed. "So, yeah, sure…there are a lot of younger omegas looking to escape from the oppression of their packs, but why would the majority of betas in these packs want that? When they get us to do most of their hard labor for free, or toss us into what they see as the most menial roles in their packs and take our tithes out of what minimal wages they allow us to earn…why would they want that to change?"

Beck cleared his throat, and pointed at Mortimer's phone. "Regardless, that diatribe Morstein posted means we're going to have to get a bit more vigilant. I'm not expecting them to attack the town or anything, but they'll probably start sending people to scope us out, find out our weaknesses and whatnot. I'll get the council together tomorrow and we'll organize a neighborhood watch." He rubbed Ollie's back and looked across the table to meet my gaze. "I don't want to freak people out to the point where we all stop going about our daily lives, but we can't dismiss Morstein's ramblings as harmless, either. "

I turned to look at Damon as the reality of what Beck wasn't saying out loud hit me.

Despite us not being bonded, my pregnant omega was a target.

Suddenly, I had even more reason to be glad for the Shifters Sanctuary pack. Together, we'd keep Damon safe. We'd keep all the vulnerable people here safe.