3. Waylan

Chapter 3

Waylan

I woke up feeling…happy. I'd become used to feeling content since I moved to the farm, but happiness still eluded me most of the time. Then I gazed up at the willow branches above me, vaguely wondering what time of day it was and how long I'd been asleep.

It took a second to realize someone was breathing beside me.

I held my breath as the events of the night before unfolded in my half-asleep brain. The omega, the fire, salmon, and…a spicy bedtime story?

That made me smile. He actually read me to sleep with bedtime porn.

My smile dropped as a breeze blew across my bare skin. My naked, human skin.

I fell asleep beside a stranger as a coyote and woke up as a man. Slowly, I turned to look and saw he was on his side, facing me. Fuck, he was even more gorgeous in the early light of day.

His hair looked like it hadn't had a decent cut in a while as it fell across his forehead, and his slightly parted lips exhaled soft, warm breath that still smelled faintly of cinnamon.

He looked innocent and young. Too young. What was he doing out here…alone?

I slowly moved the edge of the sleeping bag that was draped across half of my body, with my breath trapped in my chest. A robin called out his full morning song, and I rolled away from the boy into the dew-drenched grass.

A pain shot through me as I scooted farther away and took a better look at him.

His sleeping bag was tattered on the edges. His sneakers, placed neatly beside him, were worn at the soles, and one of the shoelaces was knotted where it had clearly snapped in half.

My heart went out to him. Who was this kid? Was I okay with him continuing to camp here? Where did he come from?

Suddenly, his eyes opened, and he was looking right at me. I froze again, completely forgetting I was in my skin, bare ass naked for the world to see. His eyes grew wide, and he sat up.

I opened my mouth to explain, but realized I had no idea what to say. Instead, I turned and ran into the rows of pawflower.

When I was far enough away to shift, I ran the rest of the way home in my fur. How could I be so stupid? I'd been so careful to protect my identity since I moved there. For five years, nobody had a clue I was a shifter.

Granted, I didn't see very many people, but even when I hired laborers to work on the farm, I was always careful. At least until some random kid showed up and made me lose all my common sense.

Once I was back in my skin, I took a shower to clear my head. After breakfast, I started to feel a little better.

The kid probably wouldn't say anything, and if he did, who would even believe him? Besides, he seemed to be on his own, so what could he gain by blabbing?

With no choice but to distract myself from the doom thoughts on a carousel in my mind, I shifted back to my fur and set out on the morning rounds.

Strangely, I hardly ever saw shifters out here. I didn't know if there just weren't many around these parts, but I figured my pawflower crops would've attracted them if they were around. No obvious shifter community usually meant people weren't too welcoming of them, and if there was one thing I had grown to value more than anything, it was my solitude.

Last thing I wanted was to attract attention to myself.

For the rest of the day, I tried to keep my mind off the lone omega as I focused on my work. But my thoughts always strayed to memories of falling asleep beside the boy, and waking up with his warm breath on my cheek. It was worse when I was in my fur because my nosy coyote just wanted to run back to him, bring him gifts, and maybe spend another night beside him.

I needed to spend more time in my skin.

That evening, it took all my willpower to stay away from the willow tree. From my porch, I inhaled deeplying, scenting the air. But no campfire or cinnamon made its way to me.

Eventually, I managed to get to sleep, but I tossed and turned all night. And the next morning, though I didn't realize it until it was happening, I passed the tree three times when I was running my rounds.

Each time, I stopped and sniffed the ground, but there was no sign of him. It didn't look like he'd been back. I sniffed his trail out and followed it to the fence, to the spot he'd climbed over.

I wanted to follow his trail beyond the fence, but instead, I turned and headed home. It was better this way. I didn't need the complications of…of what? Of him .

The next day it rained hard, which meant a lot of work for me to keep the top-heavy plants from toppling over. I spent hours running the rows, bracing stalks, and righting fallen plants. Then I took advantage of the weather and caught a good haul of fish. I spent the evening fileting and smoking the fish and all of the next day occupied repairing damage from the storm.

That worked for a few days. But my nights were spent tossing and turning until I woke up sweaty from restless dreams.

Then one evening, just as the sun was setting, I caught his scent in the air. Before I could even think of what I was doing, I was in my fur and running full speed toward the willow tree. As I got close, I walked more cautiously until I caught sight of his frame, bent over and setting up camp.

Hidden on the other side of the tree, I settled behind the long branches so I could watch him from the shadows.

He'd gotten thinner in the past week.

The omega laid out his blanket and sleeping bag slowly, and then he unrolled two small rations of salmon from the newspaper and ate them slowly, savoring each bite. The boy was hungry.

A pang shot through my heart, and I turned back toward my house. Half an hour later, I was back with a basket full of food—smoked fish, bread, jam, cheese, apples, and some of the chocolate chip cookies I'd baked while trying to distract myself from thoughts of him.

I'd been rehearsing what to say as I carried the basket over, but nothing sounded right for the occasion. " Hi, I think we met the other day ." " Hey, so about the whole coyote thing… " But when I got back, he was already asleep.

I pulled his sleeping bag up over his shoulders and frowned. The ground was still a little wet, and I didn't think his blanket was enough to keep him dry.

I hung the basket from a branch near the tree, built a fire, then I shifted and curled my furry body around him as best I could. For the first time all week, I slept soundly.

Just before dawn, I awoke before dawn and reluctantly snuck off the blanket. Something had kept him away all week, and I was worried it had been me. I didn't want him to feel afraid. Before I left, I picked a purple lupine with my teeth and dropped it into the basket.

It was a simple gesture, but my heart leapt at the thought of him finding the gift.