Despite Sky's generous and open-ended invitation, I'm not sure where to begin, and sit in silence for nearly a minute, intensely aware of our closeness, and of how almost painfully good it feels to be held like this.

"Where should I start?" I murmur, more to myself than to Sky.

"Perhaps at the beginning," he suggests playfully.

I shiver as his warm breath tickles my neck. "The beginning was a long time ago."

"I'm in no hurry," he says, adjusting his hold on me. "In fact, there's no place I'd rather be."

I sigh discontentedly, and frown at the dappled golden leaves overhead. Even if he's telling the truth, I can't imagine it will be the truth for long; not once he knows everything.

Still, I don't want to be a coward anymore, and if there's even a slim chance he won't walk away, I owe it to both of us to find out.

"Alright," I say, drawing a deep breath of cool, autumn air. "The beginning."

〜〜〜

I tell him everything: how I've always known I liked boys as well as girls, how the casual cruelty of high school had ruined my confidence, and how in college — and despite playing for both teams — I struggled to get a date.

I tell him how Elena had appeared like a miracle — a beautiful, intelligent, charming woman (and a Wolf, no less) approaching me. I hear the disgust in my voice as I tell him how easily I'd fallen under her spell; how special she made me feel when she told me I had talent and encouraged me to write my first book. I tell him how, when she — with the perfect appearance of pure love — declared her desire to take me as her Mate, I considered myself truly blessed.

I tell him how my life had changed with the birth of our first children; how the tiny, beautiful creatures had so utterly enchanted me that I hardly noticed Elena's troubling lack of interest, nor objected when she returned to work almost immediately.

I tell him how, over the next several years, our marriage turned poisonous as, little by little, my wife revealed her true character. I tell him how, just as I had resolved to take Flora and Miguel and make a clean break from her, she had entrapped me again, revealing that she was pregnant with another pair of twins.

I tell him how, despite knowing they couldn't possibly be mine, I had stayed nonetheless out of fear for them; and how, after their birth, it hadn't mattered who their father was. I loved them as my own.

I tell him how, after ten years, I discovered the long game she had played; how she had used me from the start, turning me into the weak link that would break my family. I tell him how I'd attacked my own father, and kidnapped my brother's children and mate, desperate to ensure the promised safety of my own.

I tell him how, at last having found the courage to defy her, I had done all I could to make up for my mistakes and thrown myself into a fight with the full expectation I would not survive it. Finally, I tell him of my surprise when, against this expectation, I had emerged gravely injured, but alive, made a full recovery with the help of dragon magic, and left the bloody shreds of my old life behind, taking my children with me for a fresh start.

"But you've still not healed," Sky murmurs, when I fall silent at last. "On the inside, I mean."

My mouth twists in a bitter line. "No. Maybe I haven't. That's the thing with Wolves. When we Mate, we bond on a very deep level. Some would call it a 'soul-bond.' Modern psychology would probably call it toxic codependency. However you want to look at it, it's not an easy bond to break."

"You still have feelings for her?"

I wince and rub my chest. "Not good ones."

Sky draws a breath but says nothing. In the stillness, I feel my heart beating like the second hand of some natural clock, counting down until the moment this ends; until Sky withdraws his surely misplaced affections, gets up, and walks away.

But he doesn't.

"You know what I think?" he says at last, leaning his head over my shoulder so he can look at me.

"No. What?"

"I think you're a good, kind, loving man, and a devoted father. And I think I'd like to get to know you better, if you'll give me that privilege."

I frown at him, thinking he's missed the whole point of my painful history lesson, but he continues before I can speak.

"And I understand you're not ready to trust your heart, just yet. I can be patient; for I do trust mine. I like you quite a lot, Martin, but we can take things as slowly as you wish. What do you say? Will you give me a chance to prove myself?"

"You still haven't told me your side," I point out. "How you know about Wolves, and whatever this 'secret' is that you were going to share?"

"Tell you what," he says, giving me a little squeeze. "I'll be as patient as you like, if you'll be a little patient with me. What do you say we take the kids to the lake tomorrow, and I'll share my secret with all of you there."

Take the kids to the lake, he says, so casually, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. How many times did I wish Elena would say something like that? How many years did I waste on the fruitless wish that she'd change?

Yet, even as my eyes sting with repressed tears, suspicion reawakens within me.

I twist to look at him, but his smile and the gentle sea green of his eyes put my fears to flight. The pale, petal pink of his curved lips draws my eyes, and as he leans forward a little, clearly inviting me to kiss him, I waver, balancing on the blade of indecision. I want to kiss him, and as I realize that the only thing stopping me from doing so is fear, I decide not to let fear win.

"Dad? Are you okay?"

I jerk back as Miguel's voice intrudes between us, and at the sight of my son — recent tears streaking his face and leaves stuck in his dense brown hair — my priorities shift fast and hard.

"Miguel!" I scramble to my feet and snatch him in my arms, kissing the side of his face. "Of course I'm okay. Sky and I were just... resting. Are you okay?"

He sniffs and wipes his nose. "Yeah. I'm sorry for running off, and for what I said."

"Don't be sorry. And don't worry — you don't have to shift, or do anything you don't want to, until you're ready."

"What if I don't want to go to school?"

Detecting the tease in his tone, I laugh, relieved to have my son back and feeling more like himself. "Okay, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do within reason. You still have to go to school."

"Aw, Dad."

"Come on," I say, giving him a last squeeze before releasing him. "You don't have to participate, but let's show your sister support. It's a big day, and she's very excited. Okay?"

Looking down, he sniffs again, but nods. "Okay."

Thus reunited, we rejoin the festivities, earning more than a few curious glances as we emerge from the woods. It's almost time for the main feast, and Flora runs up to us as we approach, her cheeks tinged a dusky pink and her hair floating around her head like a cloud, the pins having come free.

"Daddy, guess what? Guess what? Auntie Freya's gonna be my Wolf mother!"

"That's wonderful, sweetheart," I say, looking past her to where Freya stands watching from the edge of the pavilion, arms crossed and looking like some action movie superhero, as usual. "You couldn't be in better hands."

The rest of the afternoon passes in a haze of what, after some contemplation, I decide is happiness. Something about telling my story to Sky has lifted a weight from me, and for the first time since 'the incident,' I'm able to look my family members in the eye and smile without the thorns of guilt drawing fresh blood. And with nothing left to hide from Sky, the festivities proceed without delay.

With the full moon high and bright, Freya leads Flora away into the trees to guide her through the trials of her first Shift.

The rest of us wait in eager anticipation, hardly able to contain our curiosity. Some minutes later, Freya returns as a large, elegant wolf with black fur tipped in gold. She trots towards us out of the trees, then stops and looks back over her shoulder, giving a sharp 'yip' of encouragement.

A slender snout and a pair of gleaming eyes peek shyly from the brush, and then, with tentative, dainty steps, a long-legged young wolf with large ears, reddish fur, and a black-tipped tail steps forth.

The maned 'wolves' of South America are only distantly related to other members of the family Canidae. Elena's wolf-form resembled one, and the sight of something so like her does something strange to my mind, tearing me between two possible reactions.

On the one hand, a slew of negative emotions bubble right beneath the surface, threatening to rise like black sludge from the depths; on the other hand, no matter how awful she was, I'd always found Elena's wolf form beautiful.

Maybe seeing her reflected in my daughter so vibrantly is a good thing; maybe, in Flora, I get to see the best of her — the person she might have been.

One of these options feels a lot better than the other, and so, with a deep breath and a smile, I'm the first to step forward and greet my daughter in her glorious wolf form.

Maybe this is what it feels like, I think, as a warm sensation spreads through my chest and my family joins me.

Maybe this is what it feels like to heal.