Chapter Fourteen: Rex

S ome part of me had been convinced that I would shift when my son was born. I'd imagined that my alpha would be so overwhelmed with pride and joy that he would break through whatever invisible barrier had been preventing the change.

I was wrong.

The joy and pride were there, of course. I had never loved something —someone— as quickly or as intensely as I loved Cam. It was different to the feelings I'd developed for Damon, though I'd realized I loved him, too.

I'd burn the world to keep both of them safe, but the instant attachment I'd felt to that baby had made me almost dizzy. It was a fierce love; animalistic and raw. Instantly unconditional. Damon and I would be his world until he was an adult, and even then, I'd always be there for him in every capacity that I could.

And still I couldn't shift.

I was afraid that I was broken. That maybe I was more human than shifter after all.

How would I be able to properly bond with my son if I couldn't shift when he finally learned to do so?

Eric and Beck both seemed to think those fears were unfounded. Ollie maintained his theory that bonding with Damon would finally unlock my shifting ability. Damon seemed to think that the more I focused on not being able to shift, the more I was preventing myself from doing it.

Whatever the reason, I was beyond frustrated with my stunted abilities.

Two weeks after Cam's birth, the town assembled for a pack run. It was an initiative Beck and Ollie had implemented for pack bonding, and everyone seemed to love it. Beck had explained that there was something magical about connecting with everyone in shifted form, and I couldn't help being jealous that I still couldn't experience it.

Instead of even trying to attempt it, I told Damon to go have fun. He was still recovering from childbirth, but Eric had already assured him that historical accounts suggested shifting would help accelerate the process. And, as it had been so long since the last time he'd been able to run and leap around while shifted, Damon was excited to give it a go.

So I found myself with the other childminders in Beck and Ollie's house, with a veritable herd of small children who were all too young to shift. At least I could be a little useful, even if I felt like an impotent alpha. I couldn't even properly compel the older tykes to behave when I tried to do the ‘magical compulsion thing' Beck said he could do.

"It's nice havin' an alpha here with us," one of the middle-aged women said as she jiggled a set of toy keys over a grizzly baby. I'd already forgotten her name, but she scented like a rabbit.

I had, at least, been getting better with being able to scent things.

"I know we haven't seen hide nor hair of any troublemakers in a while, but I can't help always being on edge. My old pack was really violent when it came to keeping omegas in line. That's why we left: my parents didn't want my little brother suffering." She huffed and rolled her eyes. "They'd been perfectly content to stay there until he was born."

I nodded sympathetically. "Some people don't like to rock the proverbial boat, is all. But they looked out for you and your brother when it counted."

Rocking Cam in my arms, I knew that I would have done the same thing as her parents. His crescent moon birthmark marked him as an omega, just like his papa, but it didn't make any difference to me.

Well, no, that was a lie: I'd be brandishing a shotgun at any potential alphas when the time came…at least until Damon could talk me out of it.

"I s'pose," she agreed with a sigh as Lena, another rabbit shifter, came down the stairs. She had just put Beck and Ollie's twins to bed, and looked like she'd been through the wringer. Nevertheless, she smiled at me and plucked Cam from my arms, taking him upstairs to be put down in the bassinet Ollie had provided. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as he was carried out of my sight.

You're being paranoid , I told myself, almost chuckling out loud at how the voice in my head sounded just like Damon. My kitten found my protective instincts ‘adorable', or so he said. Lena's got him. He's fine.

"Still can't help feeling like they were complicit in the mistreatment of others, though." Bringing my attention back to the conversation, the woman I'd been talking to looked down at the baby on her playmat and smiled more genuinely than she had earlier. "Thankfully, my kids and grandkids aren't growing up like that. And Beckett's turning this town into a proper pack, the way it used to be in the olden days. Well," she paused, "maybe a bit more eclectic given the different breeds we've got living here. But I'm glad these babies are going to have that."

"Me too," I agreed wholeheartedly. "I didn't have much of a family growing up. I'm happy that Cam's got a huge adoptive family."

"With dragons for godfathers and all," Sage's friend, Dexter, joined the conversation, sauntering in from the kitchen. He carried a tray of snacks and drinks and placed them carefully on the coffee table before gingerly sitting on the couch by the window.

"Speaking of dragons," I arched an eyebrow at him, "I'd have thought you'd go stretch your wings with the others."

For all that Ollie and Damon had believed that this guy would stir up problems, he'd actually been a bit of a hermit, hiding out at Sage's house and barely appearing at any town events. Sage had been remarkably tight-lipped about the whole thing, too. It just made me more curious.

As if thinking the same thought that filtered through my brain, Dexter's lips quirked and he ‘ tsk 'd. "Curiosity killed the cat, Rexxie."

"Seriously, though," I pushed, sitting down in one of the armchairs. "Why aren't you out there?"

"Why aren't you?" he countered, raising his eyebrow in challenge .

My inability to shift was not common knowledge. I wanted to keep it that way. "Damon hasn't been able to properly enjoy a shift in months."

"Well, let's just say there's a lot of that going around."

That was a cryptic response if ever I'd heard one. I opened my mouth to tell him exactly that, when a strange scent caught my attention.

I sniffed at the air, frowning.

What the hell was that?

"Weasel," Dexter got to his feet, also scenting the air. He bared his teeth. "There aren't any weasel shifters in this pack." He turned to face one of the other childminders, "Right?"

She shook her head, frowning.

"Isn't that cult-leader-guy a weasel?" Lena asked, her foot hovering over the final step from the staircase, then she muttered, "Which, y'know, is a bit clichéd if you ask me…and I'm pretty sure weasels get a bad rap because of it, too. I mean, weasels are actually really cute."

Ignoring her nervous rambling, I felt anxious. Cam was out of my sight, and there were strange shifters nearby, and the coincidence of them being the same species as the guy who had tried to have Beck kidnapped was even more unnerving. Especially when that same guy had been strangely silent since posting his diatribe to his followers at Christmas.

"Are the kids safe up there?" I asked, tilting my chin in the direction Lena had just come. There was a baby monitor on the coffee table —one of those fancy ones with a video feed— and a glance down at it showed all three babies were fast asleep.

Still, unease tugged at my gut, and I'd learned to trust my instincts. "Go back up there. Dex, you go with her."

Neither of them argued .

I looked at the others still seated around the living room, on the floor or in the additional chairs Beck and Ollie had bought, most cuddling their children close, and I did my best to smile reassuringly. "I'm just gonna go see if these newcomers are lost, or if they've just got really bad timing."

"Uh huh," the woman I'd been chatting with only minutes earlier arched her eyebrows, holding her granddaughter to her chest. " Sure . That's why you've sent the dragon to guard the Alpha's kids and yours, huh?"

"It's just a precaution," I insisted, trying not to sound too frustrated. I was a new dad, and I was pretty sure Damon would castrate me if I didn't think about Cam before I went outside to investigate the strangers who still hadn't come to introduce themselves. Hell, I'd castrate myself. "And if there's a problem, Dex and Lena will get everyone into one place. There's safety in numbers."

As I said it, I scented the air again, a feeling of foreboding bubbled in my gut.

If the strange shifters were here to cause trouble, they'd also understood that concept. They must have been waiting for an opportunity to strike, because it seemed far too convenient that they'd arrived when most of the town's defenses were down. And if they were smart, they would have also come in force.

The faint scent of weasel was gone, but the air felt wrong somehow. Instinct told me they were still out there.

Hadn't Eric mentioned something about scent blockers once?

Shit.

For all that Beck, Eric, and Brandt had said they were expecting the Moonmusic people to regroup and come at the town again, it felt as though they had become complacent. Where was the security on nights like this one, when the pack was dispersed and running Gods-only-knew where?

Glass broke overhead and Lena's shout had me launching into action. As much as I wanted to race up the stairs to protect my son, I knew I needed to make sure the group gathered downstairs with me were safe as well.

"Change of plan: get into the downstairs bathroom," I demanded, pulling the adults up from their seats as I spoke. They clutched their little ones to their chests and bustled down the hallway. "It'll be a tight fit, but at least you can lock and barricade the door. Don't come out until one of the pack confirms it's safe." I had no idea how much of that they paid attention to, given that they were already halfway down the hallway while I was making my way up the stairs.

I stopped short in the doorway to the nursery, terror speeding through my veins. I felt sick, and my heart hammered at the sight of the overturned bassinet. My knees threatened to give way when I saw that it was empty, as were the twin cribs.

Lena's limp form was slumped against the wall to my right. I almost hadn't noticed her. When I bent to check on her, she had a pulse, but she was out cold. On the floor, Dex was sprawled on his stomach, bleeding from a pretty significant head wound.

Something inside me snapped .

One second, I was a terrified man —a new father whose two week old newborn had been snatched out from under his nose— and the next I was shifting, my bones and organs rearranging, fur sprouting from my limbs. It didn't hurt, per se, though I wouldn't call the process comfortable. My clothes tore and I lashed and kicked to get out of them.

Then the world was in sharper focus, somehow. Scents, sounds…even my vision was all so much more intense.

As I became used to my new form, I could hear my son crying. In fact, I could hear all three of the missing babies crying.

I didn't stop to think, just leapt out of the window, landing on the pitched roof of the wraparound porch. My claws instinctively dug into the tiles to slow my slide, but when I focused on retracting them to leap from the roof to the ground, it worked.

I followed the sounds and scents of our abducted pups and cub, still unable to catch more than just the faintest whiff of the strange shifters. Someone was muttering, though, making demands to get the babies to shut up.

They were in human form, then. At least some of them were. It made sense: it would be hard to carry children off in animal form, especially for creatures as small as weasels. Who knew how many wolves or other predators were with them in shifted form, though. There was no way —especially after their attempt to kidnap Beck— that they wouldn't bring enforcement.

As much as I wanted to rush after them, I knew the smarter thing to do would be to stalk from afar. I needed to get a better idea of how many there were. I couldn't let them leave town with our children, but I also knew better than to run into unknown danger. I wouldn't be any good to Cam, Duke, and Rory if I got myself caught, or injured, or killed.

It struck me that Eric or Brandt would still be at the clinic. One of them always stayed there in case someone needed urgent medical attention. Unfortunately, the kidnappers were heading in the opposite direction to the clinic. I was a mountain lion, and my phone was presumably still somewhere in the tattered remnants of my clothes back in the nursery.

Casting one last mournful glance in the direction of my baby's wails, I made the soul wrenching decision to head to the clinic.

At least in this form I was fast.

All four limbs worked with effortless, feline grace as I raced towards the clinic. I scratched at the front door, yowling until Brandt swung it open with a scowl. The expression slackened into surprise when his gaze landed on me.

"Rex?" he asked.

I opened my mouth to explain the situation, but all that came out was a series of feline yowls and growls.

Fuck, I couldn't speak.

Panic overtook me.

How could I communicate with him?

"Shift back," he instructed calmly, but there was obvious concern in his tone.

I hesitated. If I did shift back, would I be able to turn into a puma again? I needed to. Cam's life was at stake. Instinct told me that I'd be able to do it, if only to save my son.

Wasting precious seconds on concentrating, I thought about what it had felt like to shift and considered how it would feel in reverse. Sure enough, my fur receded, and my bones and organs shrank and morphed back into my biped form.

Before Brandt could say a word, I launched into my panicked explanation. Tears rolled down my cheeks, but I couldn't care less.

"You need to shift," I told him. "You need to shift. Fly and find the others. I'll keep following the babies…" my voice broke, but I wasn't going to break down. "Then you find the assholes and track them from above and…do whatever you need to."

Eat them, I thought viciously. Eat them all.

"Sounds like a plan." Brandt didn't hesitate. He ushered me out the door and I focused on shifting back into my mountain lion form again. It came easier, this time. More fluid. Still uncomfortable, but it felt more natural. I felt right in my cat form.

I didn't wait for Brandt to shift, pelting in the direction I'd last scented the kids. Later, I would be sure to think about how amazing running in my puma form was. How aerodynamic and sleek I felt. How fast and powerful and graceful I was. But at that moment, I was too focused on finding the assholes who had broken into the Pack Alpha's home and taken our young.

I had the urge to claw them all to shreds.

Thankfully, I caught up to them within a minute or so of running. I considered myself lucky that they didn't have any vehicles on Beck's land, likely having kept their mode of getaway distanced to ensure that their approach went unnoticed.

I clung to shadows, keeping downwind from the large group of wolves and bears and — was that a freaking tiger ? The shifted predators surrounded the human contingent: a group of ten men, three carrying the babies while the four surrounding them carried heavy weapons. Three others carried cases which looked large and military-like in nature. I shuddered to think of the kind of weapons that necessitated large cases like that, but it explained their slow progression, at least. I'd been so afraid that my detour would have given them enough of a window to leave with the kids .

Suppressing the urge to growl, I stalked the group and hoped that the dark sky was enough to conceal Brandt when he came looking for the group. I knew he wouldn't be able to blast them with fire —not while they had the kids hostage— but if they managed to get the babies into a van or something, we'd need him to be able to follow them.

Not that I was planning on letting them get that far.

I hated that I didn't have a plan, and that I was so terribly outnumbered. I did my best to ignore the human part of my brain, because I was beginning to feel like the worst kind of parent. Cam was only two weeks old, tiny and helpless, and I hadn't been able to protect him.

If only I had kept him with me downstairs. If only I had thought about better security during events like the pack run. If only—

A blur of gray fur sped past me, the large wolf growling and snapping as it launched itself at the strange shifters. A smaller blur followed it, then a sleek feline form, and a bunch of foxes. Realization struck me that this was my pack and I threw myself into the fray with them, surprised that my senses helped me to distinguish the difference between enemies and foe.

Human voices shouted and then the sound of gunfire burst through the air, making my sensitive ears ring. I flinched, but kept clawing and biting.

The beating of large wings overhead was also a relief, until a glance showed that the humans with the big cases were stopping to assemble large weapons. Somewhere in the human part of my brain, I knew the word for the tubular-looking giant guns, but I was too far gone in my cat form to care for the label. All I knew was that those things would wreak a lot of havoc.

The strange wolves and bears provided a furry blockade, making it impossible to get to the cluster of humans in the centre of their circle. I hissed and shrieked the loudest, most intimidating sounds I could get my vocal chords to manage, swiping deadly claws to try and break through the furry barricade.

The ground shook as a large dragon landed heavily in the field nearby. His scales were such a dark red that they were almost black, especially when the only light was coming from the stars and moon above us. He stomped forward, lashing his tail to send a number of the unwelcome shifters flying. The humans with guns fired as rapidly as they could at him, but his scales seemed impenetrable. He tilted his head to the sky and roared.

Within moments, another dragon landed at my back, the impact of his landing just as jarring. When I turned to catch a glimpse, I noticed that his scales were a brighter red, the difference noticeable even in the darkness. He was smaller than his brother, too, though he looked just as menacing.

The bright red dragon —Eric, I determined through scent— reached forward and wrapped his clawed hand around three of the attacking wolves, picking them up and flinging them aside with ease. He repeated the action with a bear and a literal handful more wolves, thinning out their defensive line. The bigger, darker dragon (Brandt) did the same where he stood his ground, evening out our pack's odds significantly.

Until the large-barreled weapons were raised.

I yowled in warning, watching in horror as one of the men fired at Eric. The weapon let out a very sharp, loud bang , the blast from the back of it tearing into the earth behind him. A spray of dirt and grass flew at the people around him, but I swivelled my head to watch the rocket —there was no other word for it— sail towards Eric.

A single, terrible thought filtered through my mind.

He's going to die.