Chapter Two

Wolfe

Shutting my laptop, I breathed out a sigh of relief that all my work was done for the year. I'd pushed myself to the limit of sleepless nights and burnout during the fall in order to take the last six weeks of the year completely off. It helped that my son's school had big breaks during that time as well.

"Dad," said five-year-old Noel, tugging on the flannel pajama pants that I had yet to change out of, "I'm hungry."

When he woke up an hour ago, I gave him some apple slices and a cheese stick from the fridge to tide him over while I received notice from my clients that they had approved the projects and required no more changes. With my job as a digital creator, there always seemed to be changes, but I was hoping there was no more and I was thankful to be right.

"Okay. What do you want? Oatmeal? Eggs? Pick your poison," I said, slapping my thighs and getting up from my desk for the last time this year. I unplugged my laptop and placed it inside the cabinet. There would inevitably be e-mails, especially regarding projects for the new year, but those could be handled on my phone or tablet.

"I don't want poison. That's nasty."

Chuckling, I picked Noel up and placed him on the counter. He'd loved to help me cook since he was little. When he was a baby, I would perch him on my hip while I stirred things in a pot, turning my body away from the heat, of course. "Then what do you want?"

He tapped his little finger on his chin and looked in the air. The kid cracked me up on a daily basis. He came home from shifter school with something new almost every week. "How about eggnog pancakes?"

I got out a huge bowl, not surprised that would be his choice. Not the eggnog part but pancakes, in general. "What about protein? You know your wolf needs protein."

"Oh yeah." He looked down at his stomach. "Do you want ham or sausage?"

I had to turn around to hide my smile and quell my laughter. I'd certainly never told him his wolf was in his stomach, but he had decided it when he first began to hear his beast's voice. He hadn't shifted yet, but he would any day now.

"What's the verdict?" I asked, going to the fridge to get the eggnog and whatever meat he decided he wanted.

"He wants ham. But you have to fry it up. No microwave."

We agreed on that. Both of our wolves were picky about food. "You got it. Want to help or watch?"

He bounced his butt on the counter. "I want to stir and crack the eggs."

"Perfect."

I set up the griddle and, while he stirred, I fried the ham on the stovetop. Once he'd gotten the texture right, we plopped pancake batter on the griddle and watched them bubble up. Noel looked up at me with those baby blues and my heart constricted, remembering David. He'd been an incredible alpha. He was loving and kind. Never raised his voice at me, not even once. Sometimes, when Noel would smile a certain way, I was instantly transported to a time when I was happily mated and gave no second thought to whether or not David and I would be together until our old age—maybe forever.

It all changed three years ago, but some days it felt like minutes ago.

He'd been in a car accident on his way home from work. He never saw the eighteen-wheeler coming. The driver had fallen asleep at the wheel, failing to stop for rest and thinking coffee would be enough to keep him awake. David and Noel, and I paid the price for his mistake.

"All right, pancakes and ham."

Noel sat down at the table once everything was cooked. "Did you warm the maple syrup?"

Picky little pup, he was. "I did. Eat up. Think about what you want to do once you're done."

We ate quickly and decided our morning would include a hike for pine cones. He liked making things for Christmas, both for the tree and the house. This year, he thought a pine cone wreath would be nice for the front door, and I couldn't have agreed more.

"Hurry up, Dad." He threw his arms up impatiently. I sat on the back porch, pulling on my boots while he crunched in the freshly fallen snow in his own boots. His cheeks were already pinked from the cold, but he had his basket ready for the hunt.

The hunt for pine cones. One day, he and I would hunt as our wolves for fresh meat but until then, pine cones would have to do. Plus, I knew better than anyone that time spent with your loved ones was precious and we couldn't waste a second.

David and I never knew our last kiss that morning was the last of our life.

I pushed the constant loneliness into the corner of my consciousness and got up, ready for our adventure. In my backpack were some snacks because little wolf shifter.

"Which trail should we take?" I asked as he started walking without me.

"This way. My nose tells me that the pine cones are this way." He wasn't wrong, but it wasn't the cones leading his senses to the north. It was the pine needles hanging from the trees. We would gather some sprigs of those as well to complete the wreath.

"Lead the way." I waved my hand even though he didn't turn to see. I missed the days of having an adult to talk to after a long day with my pup, but after David passed, we found this cabin in the woods and took a break from all the sympathetic looks from my friends and shoulder pats from our families.

Plus, living in that house without him felt like having his funeral over and over, with no end.

"I found the first one. Yes!" He put a large pine cone in his basket only minutes after embarking on our hike. Pumping his fist in the air, he did a little dance, shaking his butt. Silly little pup. Just like his other father. Celebrating the small victories in life.

"Find some more. We need about fifty."

"Fifty?" he asked, turning to give me a look.

"Yes. Fifty if you want to make a wreath."

"Okay. Only forty-nine more to go."

I snickered. At least he was learning more than slang and big words at shifter school. David wasn't the best at math, so he also got that from me. "That's right."

We hiked until Noel needed a break and a snack which was not very far into to the trail. I took a long drag of the air into my nose, letting my wolf assess it. Winter was settling in, and soon the snow would stick and there would be less of these hikes and more stories by the fire, which was fine with both of us. Tomorrow, I would take Noel into town and make a supply run, stocking up on groceries and some other things for the holidays.

Christmas was, by far, my favorite holiday, which was why I insisted on naming our pup after the cheerful time.

"Let's be careful with the glue," I said, as we made the wreath while the sun set outside. We had some venison stew heating up on the stove and fresh bread in the oven.

"You do it, Dad. I don't want to burn myself."

"You got it, bud. I'll put the glue on, and you tell me where to put each one. Deal?"

He nodded. "Deal."

We finished the wreath and hung it outside. At the last second, Noel wanted to put some lights on it, and thank goodness I happened to have some battery-operated ones in the Christmas boxes. I always felt guilty when he was disappointed. He'd had enough disappointment in his life.

"Do you ever talk to Papa?" he asked as I tucked him into bed.

"Sometimes. Do you?"

He nodded and cuddled his teddy bear under his arm. "He don't answer me, but my tummy feels warm when I do. My wolf likes it."

"He doesn't answer. And yeah, it makes me warm to think about him. Sometimes I ask him questions."

"Does he answer?" Noel asked, yawning.

I sat on the side of his bed and put my hand on his cheek. "No. But I like remembering him. Do you remember him?"

Noel shrugged. "Not a lot."

Sweet pup. No one should have to lose a parent that young. "How about tomorrow, after we do our shopping, we watch some videos of your papa? Would you like that?"

He nodded again. "Yeah. Can I pick out a toy?"

Groaning, I tickled his sides. It was so close to the holidays. He knew the rules. He also knew he had me wrapped around his finger. "Okay. But just a little one."

"Deal, bruh." He pulled a fist out of his comforter to fist-bump me.

Bruh. My kid was calling me bruh. "My name is Dad. No more bruh." I chuckled and left him to get his rest.