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### Table of Contents

Title Page

Book Details

Backwoods Asylum

About the Author

# Backwoods Asylum

## Megan Derr

Skylar is used to the way people think of him as scary, mean, dangerous, and even evil. Snakes are not the most popular shifters around, and the fact he grew up wild doesn't help. He knows the way he's chosen to live alone in the woods only makes things worse, but he didn't think it meant people thought him capable of killing a couple of wolf puppies.

Determined to find the real monster who abandoned them, Skylar calls up the only wolf he knows, a man he always wished would see him as more than a snake...

# Book Details

Backwoods Asylum

By Megan Derr

Published by Less Than Three Press LLC

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.

Edited by Samantha M. Derr

Cover designed by London Burden

This book is a work of fiction and as such all characters and situations are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

First Edition May 2013

Copyright © 2013 by Megan Derr

Printed in the United States of America

ISBN 9781620041987

It was still pitch black—why was he awake? Skylar sat up in bed and shoved aside his electric blanket, immediately mourning the loss of heat. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he shoved his feet into slippers and left the bedroom, padding through the house to the kitchen.

Then he heard it, distant and faint: crying. Wolves by the sounds of it, two little wolf puppies. Why would they be crying in the middle of the woods at... he glanced at the microwave clock... ugh, was it really three in the morning?

The crying flared up again and Skylar's gut twisted. Who would leave babies alone in the woods and in the middle of winter? Had something happened to their parents? Why had they been on his property at all? And those questions just led to a host of others: why had he not heard anything sooner? Why wolves, when there were no wolf shifters anywhere remotely close? The nearest packs were four to six hours away.

Why, oh why, did these things always happen when it was freezing cold outside? Sighing, Skylar left the kitchen to go get properly dressed. He'd travel the woods in his shifted form, but he would definitely want the clothes later. In his bedroom, he shucked his flannel pajama pants and t-shirt, then pulled on thermal underwear, jeans, a t-shirt, sweater, and his favorite fleece. Tugging a toboggan down over his head, smooshing his poor curls and guaranteeing they'd look stupid later, he sat down to lace on heavy, fur-lined boots.

He snatched up his gloves and pulled them on as he headed for the back door, snagging one of the scarves from the rack by the door on his way past. Winding it around his neck, burying his nose in the soft, warm wool, he stepped outside into the frigid night.

The cries were louder without the buffer of the house, filled with so much _terror_ that Skylar ached and feared for them. He wanted to sink his fangs into whatever jerk had left them. He hoped he hadn't slept through something tragic and the parents were dead.

Well, he wouldn't know until he knew, and standing on his porch wouldn't tell him anything. Closing his eyes, Skylar reached deep, called up his alt form—true form, most liked to say, but Skylar was of the opinion that both forms were true forms and he'd much rather use a microwave than swallow his food whole, thanks—and let it overtake him.

Magic prickled and rubbed along his skin, wrapped around him like a scratchy blanket. The world seemed to vanish beneath him, stomach rolling in the moment before his alternate form took hold. Skylar flicked his tongue, tasting the air. Cold, so miserably cold.

He could also taste wolf, blood. Judging by the vibrations, they were near his frog pond. He could only sense the pups, though, which meant they had been abandoned, or he could not yet taste anyone who might be dead. Skylar slithered off across the frosted grass and into the dense woods that covered most of his property, constantly sampling the air, listening to and feeling the activity of the woods. Mostly it was quiet—too quiet. Even the nocturnal animals had withdrawn, alarmed by the crying of the pups.

As he got closer, Skylar could taste the unique tang of _shifter_. He had figured as much, since real wolves were even less likely, but it still made him angry all over again. Baby shifters! He wished he had someone to sink his fangs into just to watch them freak out before they realized his venom was not as dangerous as that of some snakes. A pity, that. He wouldn't mind a bit of his parents' venom to inflict on the kind of monster who would hurt babies.

He reached the pond quickly, his presence driving off the last few lingering frogs, even though he'd never eaten a frog in his life. The pups were huddled together near the pond, their body heat vibrant, and they were squirming and crying enough that between the vibrations and heat signature Skylar had an excellent image of them. They tensed and went quiet when they realized he was there. One of them recoiled while the slightly smaller one lunged forward and began to bark for all it was worth.

Affection surged for them, the one that knew better than to tangle with a snake, especially in the dark, and the smaller one that was going to do it anyway. Skylar reached for his magic again, letting out a slow breath when his human form settled into place. The barking puppy stopped, then gave a low confused whine. Skylar crept toward them on his knees and extended a hand. "Shh, little pups. Sky won't hurt you."

The smaller puppy whined again, hunched and creeping as it drew close enough to press its nose into Skylar's hand. It yipped a moment later and attempted to climb him. Skylar fell over on his ass and allowed the puppy into his lap. The other one quickly followed, sniffing his jeans thoroughly before following his brother to squirm and huddle against Skylar, shivering with fear and cold and the relief of no longer being alone. He held them close, feeling possessive, protective. Nobody was going to hurt them ever again, not if he could help it.

As to that, however, he still had no idea who had abandoned them or why. There was no sign of anyone else save a faint trace of a third wolf and a hint of kerosene. It was feeling more and more like someone had abandoned them right in the middle of the forest, but close enough to his house that he would find them. Everyone knew that portion of the forest belonged to the evil shifter cottonmouth.

He petted the puppies, smiling faintly when they licked his hand and tried to climb up his chest to lick his chin. He leaned down to accommodate them, closing his eyes and grimacing as they slobbered all over his face. Drawing back, he continued the petting until they quieted down. "Poor Hansel and Gretel," he murmured. "Left in the woods for the witch to find. Unfortunately for whoever left you, the witch doesn't put anything in the oven except TV dinners and the casseroles his mom brings over."

The puppies snuffled and sighed in their sleep. Skylar hugged them close and stood to trek back home. He was a shivering pile of misery by the time he reached it and the poor little pups were no better off.

Bustling inside, he carried the puppies into his living room and got them settled on the deep, soft faux-fur rug in front of the fireplace. He turned on the gas and got the fire going, then went back to the door to lock and bolt it before stripping off all his outdoor wear. Next he went to the kitchen and rustled around for something the puppies might like, but he barely had food for himself and none of it was good for babies. Drat. Well, he had milk and microwave sausages. That would have to do for the time being.

He warmed the milk and heated up the sausages, then carried it all into the living room. The puppies stirred as they smelled the food and yipped happily at him before thrusting their noses into the bowls and promptly getting more of it on them than in them.

Skylar reached out to pull them back, calm them down, and get them drinking the milk. It was a pity, almost, that they were too big for bottles. Holding them close and bottle-feeding them would have been easier... and, well, it would have been nice.

He was being stupid. The important thing was that he had found them in time and they were safe and getting them home should be a simple enough matter.

Except, well, not really. He had no idea who had abandoned them. The nearest wolf pack was four hours away, if weather and traffic cooperated, and they had absolutely nothing to do with him. Heck, the only wolf he really knew didn't even like him.

Skylar's chest gave a familiar lurch-ache as he thought of Brady. All the hours of class he'd spent wishing from afar, the few sorry attempts at conversation before he'd realized that Brady just plain didn't like him. It didn't even seem to have anything to do with the fact that Skylar was a snake, which was reason enough for most people. Brady didn't like _him._

Brady also believed in live and let live, however. It was one of the biggest reasons Skylar liked him and why he held on to a quiet hope that one day something might change. No matter how many times his mother told him to stop being a dumbass.

Worrying at his bottom lip while he tried to figure out what to do, Skylar fed the puppies little pieces of sausage until they were gone, then fetched a blanket and pillow so he could settle with them by the fire. He grabbed his cell phone from the coffee table and, with a pile of contented sleeping puppies in his lap, dialed a number he'd been given once for a study group and had clung to fiercely ever since.

It picked up on the third ring. "Who the fuck is this and why the hell are you calling me at five in the morning?"

"It's, uh, Skylar—Skylar Trapp, from—"

"I know who you are. I'm not an idiot. Why are you calling me?"

Skylar dragged his teeth across his bottom lip. "Uh—I wanted to know—are there any wolves missing children?"

There was a long pause followed by a flat, "What?"

"I found two shifter wolf puppies abandoned in my woods. Totally alone, no sign of how they got there. I wanted to get them safely home, but I didn't know who else to call, I'm sorry."

Another silence and Skylar cringed. He should have just called the main offices and gotten in touch through formal channels, but that could take forever and it would have involved so many _people_. The puppies whined and he petted them until they calmed down, crooning softly. Until he knew who had tried to leave them for dead, _no one_ was getting anywhere near them.

"I haven't heard of any pups gone missing," Brady said quietly. "What color are they?"

Skylar swallowed as he really took in their appearance. The soft fur beneath his stroking fingers was red-brown, fading to an almost red-gold at the bottom of their legs and on the chest and underbelly. He'd been preoccupied with worry for their safety, but still he wondered how he'd missed it. "They—they look like you, just darker, more black than tawny."

"Their eyes, Skylar. What color?"

"Grayish blue." Brady's eyes were more of a greenish yellow. Skylar loved his senses in snake form, all the things he could taste and hear and feel, but he missed colors when he was in that form. Nothing was prettier than all the colors that things could be.

Brady swore, voice loud and sharp, making Skylar hunch. He'd been able to shift since he was twelve, when people from the Lost Shifter Foundation caught him and helped him and given him to a family to help him learn how to be human as well as snake... but he'd been a snake for all twelve years of his life before that day, and in that time, he'd learned that big, loud animals were dangerous. Even if they were also beautiful and strong and warm. "Let me call you back, okay, Skylar? And would you do me a favor and tell _no one_ else about this?"

"Of course. I want the puppies to be safe. I won't talk to anyone about them until you say otherwise, I promise."

"Good. Uh—thanks, Skylar. You drive me insane, but I know you're a good guy. I'll call you back soon."

He hung up before Skylar could reply, leaving him scowling at his phone before he set it aside with a sigh. Shifting the puppies, he lay down on his side and nestled them up against his body, then pulled a blanket over all of them. _Mmm, warm._ Pulling his phone close so he'd be sure to hear it, Skylar rested one hand on the puppies. Hansel, the smaller one, licked his fingers and butted into his hands. Gretel, the larger one, rubbed against his stomach and almost immediately fell asleep. Settling his other hand beneath his head, Skylar drifted off.

The sharp ringing of his phone jerked him awake, and he groggily noticed there was a lot of sunshine spilling through the windows. "Ugh." Fumbling for his phone he hit the accept button and rasped out, "Hello?"

"Skylar?"

"Yes, it's me," Skylar replied and cleared his throat. "What's, um, up?"

Brady gave a soft snort, as though amused by something, but he was sober when he spoke. "Look, something weird is going on here. There's definitely two pups missing, the children of a man who's been stirring up what some see as trouble in the community. Politics are an ugly thing. Look, I'm coming to you. I don't want anyone else near those pups until I know who was behind all this and why they're trying to drag you into it."

"Okay," Skylar said, hoping he sounded calmer than he felt. "Do you know where I live?"

"Roughly. Text me the exact address and I'll be there in a few hours."

"Okay," Skylar repeated, only to realize belatedly he was talking to himself. He sighed and sent his address, then debated between getting more sleep or getting on with the day.

The puppies stirred, whining and gnawing and he realized they needed food. Snagging his phone again, he sent Brady a message about bringing food for the pups. Setting the phone aside again, he went to warm up more milk and pre-cooked bacon, wincing inwardly at the lack of cooking skills that meant there was no real food on the premises. He was tempted to call his mother, but he'd promised not to say anything to anyone.

Leaving the pups to play, resigned to whatever destruction they would inevitably cause, Skylar went to get showered and dressed for the day. The water made him groan, wonderfully hot and wet. He couldn't wait for spring, when he could go swimming in the pond and then sunbathe on his favorite rock.

He finished showering and returned to his room, pulling on jeans, a tank top, a red Henley, and a black t-shirt with red and orange stylistic snakes all over it. Retrieving his glasses from where he kept them on the nightstand, he slid them on as he returned to the living room.

It should probably aggravate him that in the span of twenty minutes he'd lost two books and a throw pillow his mom had made him, but the puppies looked so damned cute and proud of themselves he could only grin and kneel, urging them to him, laughing when they nipped and licked and barked at him, wagging their little tails. "Yes, you are the cutest things." He kissed the tops of their heads and rubbed their ears. "My Hansel and Gretel, hmm? If you were left for the witch to find, then I think that means the witch gets to keep you."

He started a pot of coffee and then cleaned up the mess they'd made. When they started whining partway through murdering another pillow and looking anxiously at the door, he realized there was one thing they hadn't done. Ugh, cold. He shrugged into his fleece and shoved his feet into the slippers he used when going out to get the mail, then took them outside to the tree line, watching the woods carefully all the while. When they were done, the pups wasted no time in running back to his side and hastening back into the warm cabin.

Hansel and Gretel immediately went to flop in front of the fire and sleep as only children and the dead could. Skylar was tempted to give it his best shot, but settled for the coffee whispering to him from the kitchen. He threw a breakfast burrito in the microwave before returning to the living room, settling on the couch with his laptop to get some editing done. Thankfully, it was work for an author who rarely needed laborious edits.

After an hour or so, Hansel and Gretel woke up, tripping and tumbling over each other as they crossed the room, barking in discontent when they couldn't climb up the couch to him. Chuckling, Skylar closed his laptop and set it aside, then pulled them up so they could greet him good morning, round two. When they were content, they half-jumped, half-fell off the couch and went to hunt unsuspecting inanimate objects.

Skylar tried to think of anything he might own that would make a good toy and remembered the rope in the laundry room that his father had brought over to do... something. Skylar had never been clear on what. That would make a good toy, right?

Fetching the rope, he hacked it into pieces, tied the ends into knots, and then spent half an hour teaching the puppies tug of war and keep away.

They all startled when the doorbell rang, and Skylar sighed at himself for being so distracted he hadn't noticed someone arriving. Going to the door, he peered out the peephole, chest going tight when he saw the familiar rough-hewn, handsome face, shaggy red-brown hair, and bright green-yellow eyes. He combed his fingers through his own hair, short and fine and boring, but stopped and dropped his hands, rolling his eyes at himself. Honestly, what was the point? Brady already disliked him. Tidying his hair wasn't going to make Brady suddenly think, _Oh, wow, how have I missed this all these years?_

Sighing again, Skylar unbolted and unlocked the door, then pulled it open. "Hello."

"Hey, Skylar." Brady stepped inside when Skylar moved back to let him, and Skylar had a burst of warmth and wolf and winter as he passed. He closed the door and led the way to the living room, where the puppies immediately growled and hid under the couch.

Skylar moved away from Brady and planted his hands on his hips. "Hansel. Gretel. It's okay, babies. I won't let anyone hurt you. Come to Skylar." They crept forward slightly, heads half out from under the couch, and Skylar knelt on the floor, beckoning to them again. "Come here, I promise it's okay."

Yipping, they obediently ran to him, clambering to get into his lap, tumbling him over and crawling up his torso to lick at his face, knocking his poor glasses to the floor. Skylar laughed and managed to get a hold of them, then leveraged himself up and settled them in his lap. "Behave and say hello to Brady." He looked up, still smiling. "Sorry, they should be okay now. I think it was a wolf who abandoned them, so they're probably a little..." He trailed off as Brady just continued to stare at Skylar as if he was the weirdest thing Brady had ever seen.

Well, it wasn't like he wasn't used to that. Skylar swallowed and looked back down at the puppies, warmed by the way they continued to lick and nip and nuzzle his hands. The puppies didn't care he was a weird, awkward snake. They didn't care about anything except that he gave them bacon and rope and ear rubs and a warm place to sleep.

Skylar jumped when Brady abruptly knelt beside him and held out his hand to the pups. They sniffed him thoroughly and huffed in approval, but then went right back to pawing at Skylar. Brady, to Skylar's surprise, chuckled softly. "They've sure latched on to you. Did you really call them Hansel and Gretel?"

"Uh—" Skylar flushed. "They were children abandoned in the woods by one of their own for the evil witch to devour. It seemed to fit."

Brady's smile collapsed. "By one of their own? What do you mean? No wolf would do this to a couple of pups."

"Well, a wolf did," Skylar said. "My senses don't lie and there was definitely another wolf there, carrying a kerosene lantern. Whoever it was left them right by the pond that's my favorite place to go. It's like someone actually tried to get rid of them by leaving them where I would find them. As if I would _ever_ do them any harm." He bent to snuggle Hansel and Gretel, angry and worried all over again.

"Yeah, whoever thought that doesn't know you. You're a snake, but you act more like a pup yourself most days."

Skylar's face burned hotter than ever at that, but he only shrugged. "Why does everyone think snakes are aggressive?"

"Fangs? Venom? Swallowing food whole?"

"Fangs and venom are only used for hunting, or as an absolute last resort defense. Even ordinary humans know that. And _you_ try—"

"I was joking," Brady interrupted, lifting his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry, I didn't do it very well. Of course snakes aren't aggressive typically. But they usually have more, uh, bite than you."

Skylar shrugged again, not willing to admit that despite everything he had overcome, it was still too often apparent he'd spent the first twelve years of his life as a snake. He was solitary, preferred to run rather than fight. He'd only ever been aggressive when hunting and he'd never enjoyed that. Being around a lot of people was not something he would ever get entirely used to no matter how hard he tried. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Um. Sure, yeah, coffee would be great."

Gently nudging the puppies off his lap, Skylar escaped to the kitchen. He set a fresh pot of coffee to brewing, and then looked around the kitchen feeling panicky. He almost wished he could cook, just so he'd have something to do and not have to go back to the living room.

Food. Drat. There should probably be food to go with the coffee, right? Brady would be hungry if he'd driven across state that fast. Food! How could he have forgotten the pups needed food? Skylar hurried back into the living room. "Did you bring food for Hansel and Gretel?" he asked, staring at the way Brady sat so comfortably on the rug before the fire, Gretel sleeping in his lap while Hansel played a valiant game of tug of war.

"What?" Brady looked up. "Oh. Yeah, I've got stuff. Hang on, I'll go get it. Can't believe I forgot." He gently set Gretel aside, then stood, grabbed his keys where he'd left them on a side table, and slipped out of the house.

Skylar returned to the kitchen, poured two cups of coffee, turned—and slammed into Brady, sending both cups crashing to the kitchen floor where they shattered, leaving a mess of coffee and porcelain everywhere. "Sorry," he muttered, cringing.

"My fault. I didn't realize you hadn't heard me," Brady said, hands dropping on Skylar's shoulders and squeezing lightly. "Where do you keep your broom and stuff?"

"There." Skylar pointed to the laundry room that also served as a supply closet. "But I can—"

"I'll get it," Brady said, winking. "Hold still."

Too bemused to do anything else, Skylar held still, feeling silly as he watched Brady clean up the mess—though it was hardly a chore to watch the easy, efficient, graceful way he moved. Skylar was pretty sure he only moved that smoothly when he was a snake.

Brady took the supplies back to the closet and Skylar poured two new cups of coffee, setting them on the counter while he went to investigate the bags and a large cooler that Brady had set on the table. How _had_ he missed Brady walking in? He pulled everything out, frowning.

"What's wrong?"

Skylar jumped again, then sighed at himself. "Uh. Nothing. It's just—this is all real food."

Brady laughed. "Well, yeah. What else should I have brought?"

"I hope you know how to cook, because if you were banking on my skills we're going to starve," Skylar said.

"I'm pretty sure we'd manage something," Brady replied, winking again. "We are shifters."

Skylar wrinkled his nose, then pushed his glasses back into place. "Why would I want to swallow something whole and still furry when I can have a fried chicken dinner and ice cream? Ovens and microwaves exist for a reason."

Brady threw his head back and laughed so hard he shook with it, throwing out a hand to grab Skylar's shoulder for balance. "The next time a snake tries to convince me he's some badass hunter who doesn't need modern conveniences, I'm using this conversation to call him on his bullshit."

"Some like it, but I had to do it for long enough," Skylar said, wrinkling his nose again. "I'll take modern appliances any day." Brady grinned at him and Skylar tried to smile back, but honestly he was confused. He didn't mean to mention it, but the words spilled out of him in a rush before he could catch them. "I thought you hated me."

"What?" Brady asked, grin fading, replaced by a confused expression that matched exactly how Skylar felt. "I don't hate you, I just never understood why you were so damned scared of me."

"I wasn't scared! I was nervous because it's never good when a wolf hates you."

"I didn't hate you."

They stared at each other, then Brady's mouth quirked and he made a soft, chuffing sort of sound and lightly touched Skylar's cheek. "Come on, cottonmouth. We'll feed the pups and start to figure out what's what." He started to sort through the pile of stuff on the table, organizing it into groups that made absolutely no sense to Skylar.

"What is all this? I mean, what does it make?" He poked at a cluster of peppers. He'd had the green ones before, but had no idea they also came in orange, red, and yellow. Did they taste different? They smelled slightly different. Peppers tasted interesting, but they weren't as good as meat or an egg still soft and gooey.

Brady's mouth curved up into a pretty smile. "A few things, because I get the feeling you're going to be stuck with us for a few days."

Skylar shrugged. "I like company, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe. No one is hurting them, and they're not leaving until I know they'll be going to a good home and taken care of properly."

"I believe you," Brady said. "I'm here to help however I can, even if it's just as a chef." He winked again. "Anyway, I brought stuff for meatloaf, steaks, barbeque chicken, and a pot roast. That and some general stuff, like pasta and all of that."

"You sound like one of those cooking shows," Skylar said, excited by all of it. "I can't do any of that."

Brady shrugged, but even Skylar could tell he was pleased by the praise. "It's all simple stuff, nothing fancy. I'll get the meatloaf going in a little while. The pups will chow right through that. I think another six to nine months they'll be ready to start shifting." He picked up a package that contained cubes of beef. "I'll get these cooked up for them along with some peppers. Pups love it."

"Peppers?"

"Yeah, even the peppers," Brady replied, and startled Skylar by tapping a finger to his nose. Skylar scrunched his nose at the sensation, making Brady laugh again. "They're good, I promise. Is that my coffee?"

"Oh!" Skylar turned around and picked up the two mugs, handing one to Brady before retreated to the living room to let Brady cook without being pestered to death with questions. The pups had gone back to sleep. A thought occurred to him and he turned back to the kitchen. "What are their real names?"

Brady looked up from the pan he was watching. "I have no idea. I didn't want to draw too much attention by asking questions. What little I know is just stuff I overheard. Until I can figure out more, I want to be careful about who I talk to. Let me feed them and then we'll work it all out."

Nodding, Skylar slipped back into the living room and attempted to distract himself with more work until Brady finally appeared carrying a tray—Skylar had a tray? Had his mother left it?—that held two bowls and two plates. Skylar's stomach growled as the smells really hit him. Brady set the bowls on the floor and gave one of the plates to Skylar. "Eat up."

Skylar didn't bother to reply, just started eating. Man, even his mom's casseroles didn't taste as good as Brady's beef. "What did you do to this? It's the best thing I've ever had." He ate more of it, resisting the urge to shove it all into his mouth and lick the plate.

Grinning, Brady finished a bite of his own. "Nothing fancy, I swear. It's just cooked in olive oil and butter, a bit of garlic and season salt."

"If I could—" Skylar cut the words off, because he was pretty sure Brady wouldn't find it amusing if he said 'if I could keep you locked up in the kitchen I really, really would.' Of course, if he was going there, then he'd have to broaden it to 'kitchen and bedroom.' "Uh. It's really good. I wish I could cook like this, or pay someone to do it."

Brady chuckled softly. "My mom liked to cook and she was determined that at least one of her children learned her skills. Legacy and all that. Though I think some of the motivation was getting to have a night off. I have six siblings; it's a lot of food to cook. You think I'm good, you should try my mom's food. She still runs rings around me."

"I don't believe you," Skylar said, because how could anything taste _better?_ He suspected he was ruined for his instant meals, which was a depressing thought, because they were all he could fix without the night ending in tragedy for his kitchen. "This is perfect."

"You're something else, cottonmouth."

Skylar snorted. "Everyone back home called me 'water moccasin'. It's still weird they use a different name here."

Brady laughed again. "At least no one calls you Fido." At Skylar's blank look, he said, "It's a stupid dog joke."

"Oh," Skylar said. "I was always told not to make dog jokes to wolves. Why would someone do that?"

"You..." Brady cocked his head, food clearly forgotten as he stared. "Something is strange about you. I think it's part of what I always took as you being scared. You're sweet, especially for a snake—at least compared to all the snakes I've met—but... oh, never mind. I'm being rude and I don't want you to actually be scared of me or anything. Forget it. Anyway, the pups." He hastily ate several bites of food, then threw the remaining bits at the pleading puppy eyes so intently watching him. "Their parents are Harvey and Mica Connors, of Pack Connor. Harvey's eldest brother is the pack alpha. They've almost always been close to my pack, Tethers. A lot of people lately have been pushing to change the way packs function, claiming a lot of the rules and regulations are old-fashioned, no longer necessary. That they're doing more harm than good. One of the big ones is the way we live way apart from everyone, in our communities in remote areas. Most other shifters have private communities, but they're still alongside regular human communities. A lot of wolves are against change, though, and the arguments get nastier every day. One of the biggest pro-change voices is Harvey. Not an hour after you called, it came down the line that his children were missing. I hung around long enough to see if I could learn anything, but all anyone knows is that they were still in bed when their mother checked on them at nine o'clock. What time did you find them, do you know?"

Skylar set his empty plate aside. "I woke up to the sound of them crying right around three, found them... maybe a half hour after that? But I think they'd been there a little while. The traces of whoever brought them were extremely faint and they were really cold, a bit damp."

"I'm about four hours from you and Pack Connor is more like five. If they were snatched after nine, someone must have driven like the devil to get them out here for you to find at three—especially if they'd been there awhile. It's doable, but only barely. Seems strange."

"So what do we do now?"

"We figure out who stole them and why they involved you."

Skylar sighed, because anything that sounded that simple was usually closer to impossible. He looked down when Hansel and Gretel pawed at him and tugged on his jeans, bending to scoop them up and settle them in his lap, smiling as they played with his hands and favorite t-shirt. If he had to do the impossible to save them, then he would, and anyone who got in his way would regret it, because if there was one thing a snake knew how to do, it was bite. "Where do we start?"

"Figuring out how you got dragged into all of this," Brady said as he collected all their dishes and carried them into the kitchen. He reappeared a few minutes later with fresh cups of coffee. Skylar set the puppies on the floor, then took the cup offered him with a thanks before following the puppies to the rug before the fire. He watched them a moment before shifting his gaze to Brady, who had gone to the pile of bags by the door and pulled out a laptop bag.

Brady joined them on the rug, setting his coffee aside on the hardwood floor to pull the laptop out. He paused and placed a hand on the floor. "Are your floors heated?"

"Yes," Skylar replied. "I don't handle the cold well. My parents are much better adapted to it, but they also have really poor vision." He tapped his glasses. "Mine is not so bad, and I see colors as a human, which my mother doesn't."

"Yeah, two of my siblings are color blind, but their sense of smell is so much better than the rest of us. Man, heated floors. I'd kill for heated floors. You have a beautiful home."

Skylar nodded. "It wasn't in good shape when I first moved in, but I had money and I didn't want to move too far away from my parents. They've been good to me and they're getting on in years and their real children..." Drat it, he hadn't meant to say that.

"Real children?"

"My parents are rattlesnakes, not water moccasins," Skylar said with a shrug, picking at the rug, smiling faintly when Gretel wandered over and gave his fingers a thorough lick before playfully snacking on them.

"Oh!" Brady smiled. "Can't tell from looking that you're not actually related, at least the couple of times I saw them with you on campus."

Skylar smiled. "They're good to me, especially... well, I was a very difficult child. What's that?" he asked.

"What?" Brady looked blankly at him.

"On the laptop."

"Oh!" Brady made a face, then cleared his throat. "Um. This is the pups' father. It's an article about a meeting that occurred last week. It was an open-shifter meeting, do you remember it? The wolves aren't the only ones looking to make changes, and there's a strong call to start working toward finally going public again. Some are calling for a hundred year plan, others think a fifty year would work better—but most say we can't decide that until we make changes on the inside."

Skylar nodded. "My parents are pro-public supporters. They work very closely with the Lost Shifters Foundation and think that going public would not only enable more lost and abandoned shifters to be found, but give them more chances at good homes, help to spread understanding."

"Lost..." Brady's eyes snapped open wide. "Were you a lost shifter, is that how you wound up adopted by rattlesnakes?"

Inwardly cringing because it was usually something he preferred not to discuss, Skylar nodded. "My birth parents died when I was very little; I don't remember them. I lived as a snake for a long time. I knew I was different, but didn't know how to shift or anything. It took my mom and dad months to coax me in and teach me. I was, by their best guess, about twelve when they found me, and it took me a year to learn how to shift."

Brady's mouth quirked, eyes going all soft around the edges. "Well, no wonder you always seemed so shaky at school. From snake to kid to college in what, six years?"

"Eight," Skylar said. "I was twenty when I started college."

"You definitely don't look like you're two years older than me," Brady said with a soft laugh that made Skylar feel warm, his skin prickling. So much better than the cruel snickers he'd gotten used to from other shifters while trying to catch up and learn all the things they already knew. But he'd had his siblings and his parents, who had always helped him and assured him he was learning 'crazy fast.' "I bet that's part of the reason the pups have taken to you so quickly; kids always sense kinship better than adults."

Skylar smiled, ducking his head to look at Hansel and Gretel, who clambered up his legs eagerly, reaching up with their front paws braced on his chest to lick his face before they ran off again to attack unsuspecting lengths of rope. When Skylar looked back at Brady, he found himself the focus of a strangely intent stare and a soft smile that made his stomach turn and flip. "Um."

Brady seemed to shake himself. "Anyway. I brought this up to ask if you'd been involved in any of this. I hadn't noticed you at any of the rallies, but I also don't have time to attend all of them myself. I thought you might have crossed paths with someone there who thought to use you. I'm honestly at a loss otherwise as to how they'd think of you. The connection is a bit farfetched, but it's all I could come up with."

"I don't really go out much, though I think one of those things was going on the last time I went to see my parents? They live about an hour from here; I went to spend the weekend with them since my mom kept complaining they never see me anymore." He smiled, huffing a soft laugh. "She tried to load me up with food, but I can only eat so many casseroles before even I get sick of them."

"My mom is like that, except she makes me do the cooking," Brady said with a snort. "At least with snakes it's pretty typical for you to go your separate ways. A wolf leaves a pack to strike out and you'd think it's the end of the damn world." He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, did you talk to anyone? Run into anyone who was wrapped up in the whole new vs. old feud?"

Skylar shrugged, tracing the rim of his mug with one finger. "Just the woman who is always fighting with my parents because she doesn't approve of Lost Shifters. She's the reason so many people think I'm evil. One time she came over to the house for one of her stupid official visits and she was asking me so many questions and scaring me. My mom was ready to kill her. We sat down to dinner, which was my favorite, and when she asked what it was, my mom said it was mouse and frog casserole and went on and on about picking the right mice and frogs and seasoning and how they all enjoyed it. The woman got so pissed and kind of green looking, then she just stormed off."

Brady laughed. "I'm guessing she was some council goon? They always get pissy about the Lost Shifters Foundation. Oh, man, to see her face. Must have been a no-meat type of shifter. What was it really?"

"Lasagna, but made with white sauce because I didn't like tomatoes much back then. It's still my favorite lasagna, though we always call it mouse and frog casserole."

"That's awesome," Brady said, laughing even harder, hastily setting his cup down when he almost dumped it all over the laptop. "Your parents kick ass. Man, I bet seeing that bitch again was all kinds of fun. As in not."

Skylar made a face. "She asked how I was faring living by myself in the woods again and if I was remembering to turn human at least once a week. I keep telling her I prefer my human form, but she never listens. She started in on one of her rants and I walked away. My mom said later it was the funniest thing she'd ever seen, a grown woman shouting like that, so wrapped up it took her a minute to realize I wasn't there anymore."

"I bet," Brady said. "What's her name?"

"Mrs. Grey."

"Grey? Are you shitting me?" Brady asked and began to type furiously on the laptop. A couple of minutes later he shifted to sit right next to Skylar, resting the laptop on their knees where they pressed together. He jabbed a finger at the screen. "Is this her?"

The pleasure of sitting so close to Brady withered when Skylar took in the gray-haired, sour-faced woman forever captured mid-rant by some newspaper photographer. She was wearing one of her suits. Skylar had always wondered if she slept in them. It was gray, with lighter gray stripes, form-fitting and with lace at the collar of the shirt beneath. Her hair was pinned back and she wore glasses that seemed meant for peering over the top of. Despite the restrained appearance, there was something in her anger-contorted face, the way she clenched her fists and threw one up in the air as she screamed at someone, that said _wolf._ "Yeah, that's her."

"Maya Grey. She's the older sister of Mica Connors; Grey, obviously, is her married name. She and her husband, Ronald, are pro-tradition. They have one of the most old-fashioned packs in the United States, right down to even limiting interactions with ordinary humans. They live a bit further north, though still in the Appalachians. Tennessee, I think. But they're back down here because of the huge rally happening next month. All the little ones are just leading up to it, feeding it. All kinds of wolves are in the area for it; this rally could change _everything_. A whole bunch of other shifters are gathering just to see how it all plays out."

"My parents were talking about it," Skylar said. "They're kind of nervous because people are afraid of snakes, so snake shifters wouldn't be well-received. As much as they support change, they fear that snakes will be shoved out of sight if and when shifters go public. They want full and fair representation for all shifters and they're worried that won't happen. Wolves, for instance..."

"Yeah, there's a lot of wolves that don't like snakes and we're a pretty big force. What we say tends to go, but not all wolves are like that. The Connors aren't. My folks aren't. Hell, our Alpha's best friend is a taipan he met when he went to Australia several years ago. That was the talk of the wolf community for months." Brady frowned at the screen, clicking through various tabs, all of them showing more of the rallies, reports about the ongoing debates in the shifter community. "I'm going to guess running into you gave her, or someone connected to her, the idea to drop the pups in your territory. If she's in the area she would have visited her old pack, if only for the sake of formality. I can't imagine she's getting along with them right now, which is a pity. Don't betray pack, first rule of everything."

Skylar nodded in agreement, remembering all that his family had done for him, how he would still be eating mice and rabbits and squirrels, still feeling horribly alone every single day. But someone had realized he was missing and found him, because pack didn't give up on pack. Even if snakes didn't call them packs. "So does that mean they'll come looking for me soon, find some reason to suspect me? How would I have gotten all the way there and back—why would I go that far to bring back a couple of puppies to eat? If I get that desperate for food, I live in the woods. I know how to hunt, even if all the wildlife tastes nasty and I'd rather have McDonalds. I really miss McDonalds. There's no good place to get French fries out here. Or apple pies."

"You—" Brady broke off, shaking his head, but Skylar could see he was grinning. "Uh—I'm not sure how whoever did this is going to arrange for everyone to discover you're responsible. We'll probably find that out the hard way. On the bright side, it's going to seriously screw up their 'the evil snake ate them' plan when the puppies are alive and well and you've got me here with you.

"Why would anyone hurt children? Why would they think that's acceptable?" Skylar asked. "Children don't understand any of this. They have nothing to do with it. They want love and food and toys and a warm bed." He reached out to pet Gretel, who was fast asleep in front of him, nose buried in the folds of his jeans. His fingers collided with Brady's, who withdrew with a soft chuckle and shifted his attention to Hansel, cuddled up beside Gretel. "I don't understand what good it would have done to kill them. No cause is worth murdering _children._ " His teeth ached with the urge to strike, to kill, but Skylar tamped it down. He wouldn't help anything by acting exactly like the vicious snake everyone thought him.

Brady rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed tightly, leaning in close so that his cheek just brushed against the edge of Skylar's shoulder. "Luckily for Hansel and Gretel, whoever did this is stupid and doesn't realize all they did was guarantee the pups would be safe." He withdrew, and Skylar felt suddenly cold. "I'm going to go explore the territory, see if I can find any confirmation that bitch was the one who dropped them here. I doubt I'll be that lucky, but I won't know until I try." He closed the laptop and took their empty coffee cups.

Skylar followed him into the kitchen, watching as Brady washed the mugs before going to the back door. On the porch, he quickly shifted into a beautiful, large red wolf, his fur a tawny cinnamon with black at the legs and the tip of his tail. He rubbed against Skylar's legs, then with a soft woof took off across the yard and into the woods.

Back inside, Skylar returned to the living room and lay down with the pups, warmth curling through him at the way they stirred just enough to move closer to him. Resting a hand atop them, using his other arm as a pillow, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. Surely a short nap wouldn't hurt anyth...

He woke to his stomach growling and the pups playfully tugging on his clothes. Skylar sat up with a yawn and glanced around the room, freezing when he looked out the windows and saw it was dark outside. Had he crashed that hard?

The smell of food made his stomach rumble again and Skylar scooped up the puppies before wandering into the kitchen. "Smells good in here."

Brady turned away from the stove, smiling... and all thoughts of food fled while Skylar tried not to stare at the damp, ruffled hair, the wonderful muscles accentuated by a tight-fitting navy blue tank top, the snug-fitting jeans, and just how _comfy_ Brady looked in his kitchen. "Have a good nap?"

"Uh—I didn't mean to sleep so long."

"I'm sure you needed it after finding the pups and keeping watch over them, being worried about what would happen next. No one has called me so far with any updates, though I told my mom to keep me posted. I'm not sure if we should be relieved or worried. Dinner is almost done, meatloaf just needs a few more minutes. Want a beer or anything?"

Skylar nodded. "Sure." He set Hansel and Gretel down on the floor, where they immediately decided to attack the legs of the table and chairs, chasing each other around and through them. Brady pulled a can of beer out of the fridge, popped it open, and handed it over. "Thanks."

Brady smiled and went back to the stove, fussing with a pot that smelled like it contained vegetables of some sort. Skylar took a sip of beer, trying to think of something to say that wasn't hopelessly stupid.

He jumped, not quite yelping, when his phone suddenly started ringing. That was his parents' ringtone. Normally he'd wonder how bored his mother was and if he'd be on the phone for one hour or three, but in light of certain puppies...

Rushing into the living room, he snatched the phone up where he'd left it on the rug and hit the accept button. "Mom?"

"Honey, are you at the cabin?"

"Yeah. What's wrong, Mom? Why do you sound so scared?"

His words seemed to drive her to tears. "Baby, there are people here saying terrible things about you kidnapping some wolf pups and how they might not still be alive." She burst into wrenching sobs that made Skylar sick, made his mouth ache. He was going to _kill_ whoever had made his mom cry.

"Mom, it's okay. You know I'd never do anything like that," he said. Movement drew his attention and he saw Brady wander out of the kitchen. When he nodded, Skylar said, "Mom, it's true I have two puppies here, but I didn't take them. They were left in the woods. You bring those folks here and we'll get this all straightened out, hear me? Don't cry, Mom."

"Baby, they're saying such awful things and they want to lock you up—"

"Well, they're not going to. No one is hurting me, and since when do we care what they say? You bring them here. I love you. Put Dad on the phone." His mom replied in broken sobs that she loved him too, and Skylar could tell the phone was taken from her from the way her voice muffled and a rush of air across the speaker. "Dad?"

"Son," his father said quietly. "What's going on?"

"Not really sure, Dad," Skylar said quietly. "But Brady and I think it has something to do with the rally coming up, that really big one."

His father sighed. "I wish I could say that surprised me. That bitch Grey was looking entirely too pleased with herself when they showed up to start slinging accusations."

Skylar shook his head. "I don't understand why they went to you."

There was a tired laugh before his father replied, "They've been saying that either you were secretly violent the whole time, or living out there caused you to revert to your feral days, but either way, they didn't feel safe going out there without us to calm you down. You know how folks are about snakes, always so jumpy."

"People are dumb," Skylar said. "We'll be waiting."

"Who is this Brady you mentioned?"

"A-a friend," Skylar said. "A wolf I know from college."

"Oh, right. _That_ Brady. I really should have known."

Skylar rolled his eyes. "I called him after I found the pups and he's been trying to help me figure out what's going on. We'll be waiting, so hurry up so we can get this over with, yeah?"

"Yeah. See you soon, son. Be careful, but do what you think is best. We'll back you up no matter what. Love you."

Skylar swallowed. "Love you, too, Dad." He hung up, looked at the beer he still held, and took a healthy swallow of it. "Looks like the fun is about to begin." He stared at the floor, anxiety making his heart race, making him feel suddenly confined. He wanted to retreat to his frog pond even though it was entirely too cold.

The panicked thoughts were driven out of his mind by a sudden flood of heat wrapping around him, the sharp, woodsy, male smell of Brady right up in his nostrils. Brady was hugging him. Skylar froze, surprised, but then went lax, unable to resist all that heat, the sense of safety. Brady was saying something, but Skylar just lapped up the gruff voice, the soothing tone, digging his fingers into the tank top Brady wore.

He finally drew back a bit when fingers combed gently through his hair, staring up into Brady's eyes. "Sorry."

Brady chuckled. "No reason to be sorry, Sky. I'm glad you're okay. You were looking a little panicky there for a minute. Didn't know if snakes were as big on touch as wolves, but it couldn't hurt to try, I figured. I—" he broke off as low growls came from their feet. Brady gave an amused snort at the pups tugging at his jeans with all the ferociousness they could muster. "Stop being jealous, you little miscreants."

"Jealous?" Skylar repeated. "Are they mad I was hugging you?"

Brady flashed a crooked smile before he bent to scoop the puppies up. "Hansel and Gretel don't want me touching their mommy." He dumped the puppies in Skylar's arms. "Don't know what you did, exactly, but so far as they're concerned, you belong to them."

"But—but their parents," Skylar said, even as he sat down on the rug in front of the fireplace to better hold them, bending his head so they could nuzzle and lick to their hearts' content. "Surely they must miss their parents."

"You would think so," Brady said softly, something in his voice spurring Skylar to look up with a frown. Brady only shrugged. "I think this meeting is going to be interesting. Oh! The meatloaf." He bolted back into the kitchen.

Skylar realized he was no longer holding his beer, though he could not recall when he'd set it aside—well, likely Brady had. After a moment he saw it on a side table and moved the puppies aside long enough to retrieve it.

A few minutes later, Brady returned with food. Skylar took one bite of the meatloaf and moaned. Even the vegetables were good, something about them smoky and salty and melding perfectly. He could eat the mashed potatoes and gravy forever—if he wasn't already determined to do that with the meatloaf, which was the best thing he'd ever tasted. His mom's meatloaf was good, but jeez, it wasn't Brady's. "Don't tell my mom, but your meatloaf is better."

Brady grinned. "My lips are sealed."

Skylar looked back down at his plate before he gave in to an urge to stare at Brady's lips. "I didn't think you'd be like this when I called you."

"Like what?" Brady asked, puzzled.

"Like—it's all so easy. It's hard to remember all those times you snapped at me or shoved past me and all of that. I was convinced you totally hated me, which made it even harder to talk to you..."

"Ah." Brady set his plate aside, then slid down from the couch to sit next to Skylar on the floor. "Hell, I thought you were cute the first time I saw you. But you were always so jumpy, and when I learned you were a snake I thought maybe you'd had run-ins with wolves before and just didn't trust them. Which I can understand, as much as I hate it. I've torn my own cousins a new after catching them behaving like assholes to little guys. So I tried to give you space, but I admit sometimes I got mad because I just wanted you to realize I wasn't a bad guy. It was stupid. I could have done a lot of things different—better."

Skylar smiled. "Me too. I never thought you were bad, just that you must not like me. But I always—always wished you didn't hate me."

Brady moved close, curled a heavy but gentle hand around his shoulder, and leaned in so his forehead pressed against Skylar's temple. "No hate here, but how about when all of this is over, you come to my house and I'll _really_ cook you dinner."

"That—yes," Skylar said, heart thudding. He smiled. "Yes."

"Cool." Brady gave his shoulder a light squeeze and then returned to the couch to finish eating.

They were just finishing up cleaning the kitchen when they heard the sound of approaching cars. Skylar shoved the last plate into the cabinet, then went into the living room and scooped up Hansel and Gretel. They whined, clearly sensing his distress. Skylar took deep breaths until he felt calmer, petting them all the while.

He jumped at the pounding on the door anyway. "Sit on the couch," Brady said. "I'll let them in. You don't give the pups up for anything, not until this is settled. If I have to hold them down while you run, I will. We're not returning those pups until we know it's safe."

"Thank you," Skylar said quietly. He fetched a blanket before he sat on the far end of the couch. He tried to settle the puppies on the blanket after spreading it over his lap, but they stubbornly insisted on crawling under it and he finally let them be.

Cold air rushed in through the open door, chased by the scent of his mother's sugary perfume. "Sky!" she exclaimed, rushing over to him, wrinkled face red and ragged from crying. She sat down beside him and hugged him tightly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mom," Skylar said. "It's the puppies I'm worried about."

She drew back to look at the little noses which had poked out of the blanket and made a soft noise as she pulled it aside. "Poor babies. However did they wind up all the way out here?"

"That's what we aim to find out," Brady said, and Skylar looked up to take in all the people piled into his living room: his handsome, quiet father, Mrs. Grey and a woman who looked like a slightly younger version of her, and two dark-haired men behind them, one with graying hair, a rugged sort of handsome to his features; the other almost tipped over into pretty, and he had eyes almost the same yellow as Brady's.

There was also a woman who looked exactly like an older version of Brady, face lined with worry as she regarded Skylar, the puppies, and then Brady, who must have been her son, or maybe nephew? But Skylar would wager son.

Brady motioned to each person as he introduced them. "Everyone, this is Skylar. Sky, you know Mrs. Grey, this is her husband Ronald. Her sister Mica Connors and her husband Harvey. It's their puppies you found. I'm sure they're grateful to you for the rescue. This is my mother, Angela. She's an inter-shifter liaison for our pack, here to mediate."

"I want my children!" Mica said. "Give them to me at once, you nasty little—"

"That's enough," Angela said sharply. "Restrain yourself. There is no evidence indicating his culpability in the matter. Skylar, would you please show us that the pups are alive and well."

Skylar pulled down the blanket to show the pups.

"My babies!" Mica shrieked and bolted across the room before anyone could stop her—but stopped short when the puppies began to snarl and bark. Everyone paused. "Why are they so angry?" she demanded tearfully. "What did you do to my children, you evil fucking snake?!"

"That's enough," Mrs. Grey said, leaving Skylar gaping at her. "Just—stop, Mica. We'll work this out."

Skylar decided to ignore them in favor of bundling Hansel and Gretel close, petting and murmuring and cuddling until they stopped trembling. They whined softly and tried to burrow into him, not satisfied until he folded his legs up, nestled them in the hollows, and drew the blankets over them. Looking up, Skylar said, "Nobody is touching these puppies until I know who abandoned them on my land and why."

Brady stepped closer to him and, to Skylar's surprise, his mother stood up and motioned for Brady to take her place. Skylar relaxed slightly as Brady's warmth rolled over him and the arm that draped over his shoulders seared right down to his bones. "What he said," Brady reiterated. "So somebody start explaining."

Angela motioned everyone to silence when they all tried to start speaking at once. When they fell silent, she got everyone seated, then stood in the middle of the room. "Harvey and Mica woke up this morning to find their sons gone and no sign of how anyone got in or out, let alone with two puppies in tow. They immediately contacted their alpha, who contacted the council. Everyone has been on the lookout since then, trying to figure out where they could have gone."

"How did you wind up figuring Sky had anything to do with this?" Brady asked.

"Everyone remembered the way he had that confrontation with Maya the other day, at the rally," Angela replied. "Other wolves said it wasn't unusual for Skylar to cause trouble—"

"I do not!" Skylar snarled, almost throwing himself off the couch, eager to be in a defensive position rather than helpless. Only the pups and Brady held him back. "She started it. She always starts it. She's never liked me because I was a snake until I was twelve. It never mattered to her that I was never dangerous, never attacked anyone except when I was first retrieved. I was just scared and tried to hide and only bit _my mother_ when she first picked me up. If my mom can forgive that, why can't anyone else?"

An awkward silence fell in the wake of his words. Skylar ducked his head to focus on the puppies, smiling weakly when they licked his fingers and whined. "It's okay," he assured them. "Sky is fine."

Angela cleared her throat. "I was told by Maya and a handful of other wolves that you two started shouting at each other in the middle of the street."

"What did my parents and other non-wolf shifters say?" Skylar asked bitterly.

"Kaylee said that you never raised your voice and you walked away when her talking turned to shouting. Everyone else asked said they didn't know who started what, they just remember shouting."

"I was going to the store with my mother. It's only a few blocks from the house and it was bright and sunny, a little chilly. We decided to walk; we cut through the rally and street fair because my mom wanted to take a quick look at it all. She stopped at a booth selling soap. Maya saw me and, as she always does, started quizzing me on what I was doing, how I was behaving, if I'd hurt anyone, on and on. I told her to leave me alone, that I was none of her business anymore, and if I wanted to live alone in the woods it was no concern of hers. That just got her going. I tried to tell her to stop, to calm down, but she just started shouting. I walked away, my mom and I went to the store, and that was that. I drove back here yesterday and woke up about three AM when I heard Hansel and Gretel crying."

Mica looked ready to strangle him, face going red, held back only by her husband's firm grip. "You little monster! Their names aren't Hansel and Gretel! What are you trying to imply, you nasty little cottonmouth—"
"That's enough!" Brady barked out, getting up to stand in front of Skylar. "One more insult comes out of your mouth and—"

"Brady," Angela said, quietly but with force. He glared, but with a huff finally sat down again. Turning to Mica, she said, "You will watch what you say. One more outburst and I will throw you out of the house, am I clear?"

Mica's mouth flattened.

"Am I clear?" Angela demanded.

"Yes, ma'am," Mica said indignantly. "I want my children."

Brady bristled, leaning forward, one heavy hand falling on Skylar's knee. It was... sort of sweet, and so very wolf, the way he hovered and barked as though Skylar needed protecting—though, at that, it was probably more the pups and it would go better for everyone if it was a wolf who wound up in a fight.

If they thought that meant the snake would not strike, however...

He covered Brady's hand with his own and met Mica's glare. "I want to know why they growl when you get close. I'm not letting anyone have them until I know they're safe."

"You'll keep my children hostage because you're—"

"They were abandoned on my property," Skylar hissed. "Abandoned. No longer wanted. I will not give them away until I am confident it is to someone who loves them."

Mica looked ready to lose her temper again, but at a look from Angela, bit back whatever it was she wanted to say.

"Everyone calm down," Angela said. "Maya, tell me again what happened at that rally. Did it happen as you said, or more as Skylar relates?"

Maya said nothing, only shook her head and scowled.

"Now!" Angela snarled, eyes turning wolf for a moment. Skylar's eyes widened as every wolf in the room recoiled, bowing their heads and turning to bare their throats. "I will not ask again, Maya."

Though she looked even more furious than her sister, Maya subsided. Angela let her arms fall to her side, but the wolf eyes remained as she regarded all of them. She was incredible and terrifying. "One more moment of disobedience and I will start leveling fines and locking people up. I have been trusted to resolve this matter and I will do so. You say the confrontation with Skylar did not occur as you first told me back in town. That being the case, I fail to see a motive. Why would he have gone out of his way to kidnap your nephews after a confrontation he walked away from?"

"Everyone knows he's a feral snake who never adapted well to being civilized," Mica spat. "Look at how he came to live out here in the middle of nowhere. Just because he didn't scream back at my sister doesn't mean he wasn't plotting revenge."

"So why would he take _your_ kids?" Brady demanded. "We all know this is bogus. My guess? That Maya kidnapped them—"

"I was on a plane!" Maya snarled. "I was supposed to drive home, but I got a call that several members of our pack fell sick, so I took a flight to get home sooner. I'd just gotten home when my baby sister called me to say that some bastard stole her children!"

Brady bared his teeth, but didn't push it further, only looked to his mother. "That alibi checks out, though we never had to think of it as an alibi until now," she said, sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose. "I do not understand, and there is not enough information to go on here to determine who did what."

"Then I am taking my children back!" Mica snarled and shoved her husband out of the way to stride across the room. She grabbed Hansel—and shrieked when the pup sank his teeth into her hand hard enough to draw blood.

Skylar snatched him close and stood up, holding Hansel and Gretel tightly to his chest as he backed away from her. "Why would your own children attack you?"

"They're scared. They don't know what they're doing!" Mica snapped.

"They're scared of you!" Skylar replied.

"Fuck you, snake!" Mica lunged at him, snarling, growling, knocking him and the puppies to the ground. The puppies yelped and rolled away. Skylar hissed at her, furious. He grunted as she struck him in the face, but managed to grab one wrist, then the other—then surged up and sank his fangs deep into her neck, pumping venom into her veins.

She froze, stunned, and he retracted his fangs, shoved her off, and rolled to his knees. Crying, barking, Hansel and Gretel ran to him and tried to climb up his chest. "I won't let you hurt them," he said. "They're just babies. You don't get to use them or harm them. If you try again I'll kill you."

He didn't realize he was shaking until Brady's arm wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him close. Skylar breathed in his scent, already so familiar, let Brady's scent and his warmth soothe him and the pups. "It's okay," Brady murmured.

"He fucking poisoned her! How?" Harvey said. "Snakes don't retain—"

"Some do," Skylar heard his mom say coldly. "My sister retains her fangs and venom in shifted form. So does Sky. I've never seen him use them before, though, even when some kids bullied him badly. They broke his arm and he still didn't try to hurt them. Stop fretting. Cottonmouth venom isn't typically fatal for humans, let alone shifters. I have an antivenin."

Skylar stood up, ignoring all of them in favor of carrying the puppies to his bedroom at the back of the cabin. He climbed into his bed, lay down on his side, and settled them against him, half-burying his face in his pillow. The door closed a moment later and he looked up expecting to see his mother or father. He was relieved and anxious when it proved to be Brady.

He started to sit up again, but Brady rested a hand on his shoulder and sat on the very edge of the bed. Gretel wiggled away from Hansel and Skylar to nudge against Brady. Laughing softly, Brady scooped him up and nuzzled him. "You take after mommy Sky, hmm? Jumping in teeth first once someone asks for a fight? Good boy."

"Don't encourage him," Skylar muttered. "He's feisty enough. Hansel shows a lot more common sense."

Brady laughed and settled Gretel back with Hansel, petting them both. "I think they both show a lot of sense sticking with you, Mom."

Skylar flushed at the words, hating the way his stomach twisted because he wished they were true. He loved being a son, but he would love being a parent more. It wasn't the sort of dream that would ever happen, even if he went through the Lost Shifter Foundation. Not with his record. Fit to live on his own? Certainly. To be trusted with children? Not likely, even if the rules were stupid, outdated, and arbitrary. "What do you think is going to happen to them?"

"My mom would never let anything bad happen," Brady replied. "It's pretty clear there's something funky with the mom, possibly the dad too, though he's been pretty quiet. She'll probably bring the pups into our pack until a good family can be found for them, assuming the worst is that their parents can't be trusted." Brady sighed. "I just don't get why their parents would do this."

"Hansel and Gretel," Skylar murmured. "Abandoned in the woods because they were in the mother's way and the father was too weak to stand up to her. At least, that's how it seemed in the version I read. There was one version where the father saved them, but... it seemed fake."

Brady nodded. "My old book of fairytales and nursery rhymes had that version. I always thought it was the stepmother who ordered them abandoned."

"A mother's a mother."

"Yeah, true enough," Brady said with a smile, petting the puppies again before reaching up and carding his fingertips gently through Skylar's hair. "So what would you like me to fix you when you come over for dinner? Probably not this weekend, but maybe next? Everything will have quieted down by then."

Skylar smiled faintly. He'd nearly forgotten that they had a date. It was not something he would have expected to come from the mess. "I'll eat anything you put in front of me."

Laughing, Brady said, "All right. I think I know what I'll do. I'd warn you to come prepared to eat a lot, but I think you'll do that anyway. How about dessert, have a favorite?"

"Mocha cake. The bakery close to my parents' house makes it. They put espresso in the frosting. My mom used to kill them for giving me such big pieces of it."

"I can imagine you as a little kid wired on sugar and espresso." Brady's fingers slipped through his hair again and Skylar had the sneaking suspicion he was being petted. It was nice. He made a soft noise, opening eyes he hadn't realized had fallen shut to stare up into Brady's. "It'll be okay, Sky. Promise."

A knock at the door prevented Skylar's reply, and he slowly sat up as Brady went to open the door. Angela and his mom stepped into the room. "It's time to go," Angela said quietly. "Mica and Harvey have admitted to leaving the pups themselves—"

"Why would they do that?" Skylar demanded, holding Hansel and Gretel tightly.

Angela shook her head. "Attention. They wanted to draw attention to their cause, get people to listen to them. If the spotlight was on them over the kidnapping, then it would definitely be on them at the big rally and they could use the whole fiasco as a catalyst to push for the change they want."

"But the fact a re-socialized lost shifter did the kidnapping..." Skylar shook his head. "That would have set them back, since the Foundation is one of their big sponsors."

Skylar's mother looked ready to sink her own fangs into somebody as she explained, "One of the biggest changes being pushed for is more mixing of shifters. Right now we still keep largely to our own groups, coming together only for a specific purpose. That you were re-socialized, though it didn't quite take, would have worked as a starting point to push for intermingling. The argument would have been that had you been socialized by more social creatures, instead of more snakes, who generally favor independence and _not_ socializing a great deal, this would not have happened."

Brady sneered. "No doubt the mercy they were showing the evil snake who kidnapped their children would have won them a ridiculous number of additional votes. They do realize all this bullshit has probably ruined support for the cause, right? I could kill them myself."

"Well, don't," Angela said. "They've been secured and are awaiting transport by authorities. You will all have to come in to give your own reports. We also need to find someone to take the pups full time, since their parents quite obviously are unfit."

Skylar held them close, hating the idea of giving them up. It had only been a day, but he didn't care. They were his; the idea of giving them up made him want to cry. But saying that would be futile. Nobody would let _him_ take in a couple of pups. "I can take them," he said anyway, because he had to _try._

No one replied and he did not have the stomach to look up to see the expressions on their faces. The only thing that kept him from lashing out or retreating was the steady hand on his shoulder.

"Come on," his mother said quietly. "Let's get this done."

Skylar threw some things into an overnight bag, packed up his laptop, put on his winter gear, then reluctantly followed them outside to the waiting cars. Brady squeezed his shoulders, leaning in to press their foreheads together. "It'll be okay, I promise," he said quietly. Skylar nodded, but did not reply, though he watched as Brady walked away to ride with his mother.

He settled into the back of his parent's SUV, holding the pups close as they drove. His parents tried to draw him into conversation, but Skylar shook his head and they finally left him in peace.

Skylar gave up shoveling the walk halfway through. What was the point? Nobody was coming to visit him, past Brady who was just picking him up so they could turn right around. Nobody ever visited except for his family, and they were all snowed into their own houses. He wondered again if he shouldn't have taken up his mom's offer to stay with them, but just thinking about the sympathetic looks and the _talks_ made him want to punch something.

He didn't want sympathy or reassuring talks or empty assurances he'd have his own kids someday and he shouldn't worry so much. He wanted Hansel and Gretel. Two weeks after being made to return them to their pack, the wound of their absence was still raw and gaping.

Throwing the snow shovel on the front porch, Skylar stomped inside and left his winter gear in the entry hall. He headed to his bedroom and stripped off his clothes, leaving them where they landed, then padded into the bathroom and cranked the shower as hot as he could stand it.

The only bright point to his day—week, life—was that Brady had called him to say that he was finally able to slip free of all the pack trouble to make good on their date. Skylar had been afraid, at first, that maybe he'd changed his mind, but working up the nerve to call had turned up a very frazzled, exhausted Brady who was beyond happy Skylar had called him and sorry he hadn't called himself. A few days after that Brady had called back to arrange the date.

Skylar finished showering and climbed out, dithering over the meager contents of his closet before finally going with his good jeans, a white collared shirt, and a dark brown sweater with bits of pale gold threaded through it at random points. Pulling on his good boots, he dragged out his good coat and headed for the living room.

Since Brady lived a few hours away, he'd suggested Skylar just come stay for the weekend, if he was willing and didn't think that was too much for a first date. Skylar thought after years of hopeless pining, a weekend sounded awesome.

He also suspected he just got attached to people too quickly when he decided to get attached at all, but he couldn't feel very sorry about it. Even if he missed Hansel and Gretel with every breath. Feeling restless, he went through the house checking doors and windows for the third—fourth?—time.

Just as he was about to start cleaning something because he'd run out of everything else to do, he heard a car coming up the road. Grabbing his duffle and his laptop bag, though he was hoping to ignore the laptop all weekend, he headed outside and locked the front door.

The snow loomed before him, and Skylar conceded with a sigh that he probably should have finished shoveling the walk. Ah, well. Nothing for it. He muscled his way through the mess to the waiting Land Rover and clambered inside. "Hi."

"Hey," Brady said with a smile and handed over a steaming cup that smelled like coffee and chocolate and whipped cream. "Stopped by a coffee place, thought we could both use something hot and caffeinated. Wasn't sure what you liked, but I took a guess—"

Skylar interrupted him with a happy sigh-moan. "It's perfect."

Brady beamed. "Thanks for agreeing to spend the weekend."

"Thanks for having me. I could have come up, you know. You didn't have to come get me."

Laughing, carefully turning the vehicle around, Brady replied, "Trust me, I am happy to be away from the pack for as long as I can manage. Everything is still... well, tense would be putting it mildly."

Skylar nodded, biting back the urge to ask about Hansel and Gretel. They weren't his, he had to let them go... and this weekend was about Brady. "I hope it all calms down soon. The big rally is in another week, right?"

"Yeah, next Saturday." Brady paused at the end of the drive and looked at him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Skylar frowned at him. "Why?"

Brady hesitated, then gave a small shrug. "You haven't asked about Hansel and Gretel."

Flinching, Skylar said, "Those aren't their names and it... I miss them. It hurts. Asking won't bring them back. Anyway, I want to spend the next few days thinking about you. I didn't agree to this just so I could get information on them."

"Oh." Brady gave a smile that looked surprisingly shy. "Well, I wouldn't have been upset if you'd asked. I know how hard it was for you to let them go. Any idiot could see they were already in love with you. They're okay with the family watching them, but not happy. We're still working on a permanent home." He hesitated again, but only shook his head as though deciding against something. "So I have dinner and dessert all planned through the weekend. I can take you back Sunday night or on Monday, whichever you want. If you get totally sick of me sooner than that, I'll get you home the moment you say the word."

"You have to say if you get sick of me too," Skylar reminded him.

"You'd have to try _really_ hard to make me sick of you," Brady replied. "The only people I don't want to see this weekend are my pack, as much as I love them. Pick a radio station."

The abrupt shift took Skylar a moment to process, but he finally reached out and turned on the radio, finding a station playing a mix of rock. He smiled at Brady's bright grin of approval. Skylar sipped his mocha and stared out the window, admiring the landscape, grateful he was in a warm vehicle.

The drive should have been awkward, but somehow it was the most relaxing drive Skylar had ever been on. Ever since that day with Hansel and Gretel, the realization that Brady didn't hate him—that it was just a big, stupid misunderstanding—talking to him, just being around him, was swiftly becoming the easiest thing in the world.

Even if Brady apparently had terrible taste in sports teams, something that had come up quickly during the drive. "I hope you make better choices in movies."

"Action and comedy all the way."

Skylar smiled. "Much better."

Brady laughed as he turned the radio to a news station. He grimaced a couple of minutes later when the forecaster promised more snow. "You may be stuck with me more than a weekend if this crap keeps up. I should have thought of that."

"I really can't wait for spring," Skylar said with a sigh. "I hate the cold. Hate it, hate it, hate it."

"It's not that bad."

"It is when you're a cold-blooded creature in one form and that translates to extreme sensitivity to cold in your warm-blooded form. It's hell switching between those particular elements of my forms."

Brady opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again, cheeks going faintly pink. "Um. My house is kept plenty warm."

Skylar peered at him, curious as to what Brady had almost said, wondering if his first guess was the right one. Because he would not be at all opposed to Brady keeping him warm—and not just because body heat was the best kind. That was probably moving too fast, though, especially considering their first date was a weekend together.

He straightened in his seat as they pulled off the highway and drove down a long road that cut through dense forest. "I'm so glad they finally paved this son of a bitch," Brady said. "Until last year it was still a dirt road and let me tell you how much we all hated it." He turned a wide corner and suddenly the pack lands came into view, a sprawling suburb looking place with cozy brick homes of various shapes and sizes. Right in the middle of the loose oval of them was an enormous building with an old-fashioned looking clock tower.

"It looks like a postcard."

Brady beamed at him before reaching for the wallet he'd left in the center console and pulling out a card. "It's pretty, and I love it, but I think wolves should stop living so apart. Thanks to those two morons, it will take a ridiculously long time to convince everyone else of that, but I still have hope we'll get there eventually." He rolled down his window as they reached the gatehouse and a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out to examine the card as Brady held it out.

He waved them on a moment later, pushing a button to open the gates. Brady drove on through, turning left at an intersection to drive around the outermost edge of the oval of houses. Twenty minutes later he pulled into the driveway of a large, two story house, parking next to a smaller, dark blue car that was mostly covered in snow. "Home sweet home. Though I have to confess here that I suck at unpacking so there's one or two rooms still filled with boxes."

Before Skylar could grab it, Brady snagged his duffle and headed for the house. Skylar shook his head, but grabbed his laptop and followed quickly, shivering like crazy by the time they were inside and the door was shut. Brady gave him that crooked smile that was entirely too adorable and distracting. "You really are completely helpless in the cold. Man, I bet you're one of those jerks that's all 'a hundred degrees? Perfect weather!' while the rest of us are passed out on the sidewalk from heatstroke or trying to fit inside the freezer."

Skylar burst out laughing. "I don't think you'd fit. I love summer. I bask on rocks for hours, move to the shade, then back to the sun. In winter I usually just stay in bed as much as possible..." He trailed off at the sudden, unmistakable look that flashed across Brady's face, no longer feeling cold. Skylar swallowed, licked his lips. "I—you're not going to make getting out of bed any easier, are you?"

Brady stepped closer, tracing one knuckle along the line of Skylar's cheekbone. "I'm pretty sure I could get you out of bed with homemade pancakes and some bacon. The trick would be getting myself out of bed first."

Skylar swallowed again and tried to reply, but couldn't seem to get his brain to function.

"You're making it very hard to behave," Brady rumbled, then backed up a couple of steps, hefted the duffle bag again, and made to continue further into the house.

Surrendering to an impulse for once instead of thinking twice about it, Skylar replied, "I don't remember saying I expected good behavior. It's not like I'm here because we're hoping to become just friends."

Brady whipped around, dropped the bag, and quickly closed the space between them, bracing one hand on the wall just above Skylar's head, standing to one side so that Skylar had plenty of room to move if he wanted. Skylar stayed right where he was and curled fingers into Brady's sweater. "I mean, we can behave if you want..."

"A good host does whatever his guest wants," Brady replied and leaned down to kiss him softly, lips warm and still carrying a hint of hazelnut and coffee. Skylar rose up on his toes, impatient now that they'd opted out of good behavior. Brady made a low, rough sound of approval and obligingly kissed harder, deeper, shifting to stand in front of Skylar, lightly trapping him between the wall and Brady's body.

Skylar took that as implicit permission to wind his arms around Brady's neck and hold fast. "You're ridiculously warm," he said when he finally managed to pull away from Brady's talented, distracting mouth.

Brady gave a slow grin. "I'll spare you a lousy joke about showing you how hot I can be and drag you to bed to show you." Skylar laughed as Brady tugged him away from the wall and through the house to his bedroom.

He woke hours later, sore and sated and a good deal happier than he'd felt in a long time. And to his stomach growling. Something smelled like perfection. Skylar threw back the blankets and fumbled for clothes hastily discarded earlier. Wandering into the bathroom, he cleaned up quickly before going in search of the kitchen.

The sight of Brady wearing only loose sweatpants that seemed to enjoy molding to his ass distracted him momentarily. Brady half-turned, then smiled. "You're awake."

"Depends on how you define—" Skylar broke off as a yawn got the best of him. "Awake."

Brady chuckled and nodded to the coffee machine, where an empty mug sat waiting. Skylar gladly helped himself, then asked, "What smells so good?"

"Chili, my mom's recipe. Some cornbread, too. It just went in a couple minutes ago. Dinner should be ready in twenty minutes or so." Brady abandoned the stove to cross the kitchen, waiting until the coffee was out of the way to cup Skylar's face and bend down for a quick kiss. "Sleep well?"

"Very," Skylar said, feeling shy and smug all at once. "I get the feeling you don't sleep much."

Brady snorted and withdrew slightly. "Wait until summer. I hate the heat. It's going to be me sprawled on this cold linoleum floor with the AC cranked while I moan about how I'm melting. I prefer to sleep through as much of the summer as possible."

Skylar laughed over the brim of his mug, then took another swallow of coffee.

"Come on, there's something I want to show you," Brady said, lightly taking hold of his hand and leading Skylar out of the kitchen, through a living room with a positively sumptuous looking couch, and into what was clearly an office. Brady picked up a dark green folder, the only thing on top of the desk beyond a lamp and pencil holder, and held it out.

"What's this?" Skylar asked, setting down his mug to open the folder. He stared as the words on the page registered. "These are adoption papers, for a female pup." He frowned. "From... a relative?"

"Sister," Brady said, scratching at the back of his head, looking nervous. It was a strange look on him, even stranger than his occasional shy smiles. Brady blew out a breath, dropped his hand, and said, "It's really crazy, all the timing on us meeting again. Until about a month ago I lived across town in a house I rented with two other guys, some friends from college. But I've always wanted kids, you know? I work for my dad's company, mostly the business end of things, that's why I went to school. But I also do some of the wood work—headboards, cabinets, that kind of thing. Anyway, I really wanted kids, a family, and my sister is expecting a pup she and her husband don't really want. They have six kids, no more room in the house, this latest pup was a surprise. She asked if I would be interested in adopting. I said yes and started working on getting a proper house—this place. The baby is due in about another month, a girl."

Skylar swallowed, staring hard at the papers, missing Hansel and Gretel so much suddenly it hurt to breathe. "I'm—I'm happy for you. She'll be adorable. Did you want me to leave you in peace while you adjust...?"

"No!" Brady said, throwing the folder back on the desk before he tugged Skylar close. "I definitely want you around, but I'm aware of how stupidly fast we're doing everything. I know you miss Hansel and Gretel—and I don't care what their real names are, those names were given by parents who threw their children away. So far as I'm concerned, Hansel and Gretel are yours."

"I wish they were," Skylar said quietly. "But no one is going to let a re-socialized snake adopt the children of a woman he attacked and severely poisoned."

Brady kissed his temple. "I promised you it would be okay, didn't I? Don't give up hope yet. In the meantime, if you want to keep being crazy and moving fast and haven't killed me in a month, you can help me raise my daughter, or at least put up with me while I get the hang of raising a child."

"I'm okay with crazy. Careful and cautious are all I've ever been; I wouldn't mind trying crazy," Skylar said.

"Awesome." Brady cupped his face and kissed him again, soft and sweet, mouth fitting against Skylar's so effortlessly it left Skylar reeling. Drawing back, Brady slid his hands away to loop them around Skylar's waist, nuzzling against his cheek. "Let's go eat. Then we can figure out what to do with the rest of the night and weekend."

Skylar followed him back to the kitchen and helped get out bowls, silverware, and a couple of beers from the fridge. He was halfway through his bowl of chili, cheerfully arguing football, when the doorbell rang.

Brady scowled. "Who is that? I swear to God if my brothers are here to interrupt my weekend, I will murder them." He threw his napkin on the table before stomping out of the kitchen.

Skylar got fresh beers from the fridge and went back to his chili. Brady's voice was low, conversational, so it must not be his brothers.

Then he heard familiar barking, crying. Skylar rose and bolted to the front of the house, shoving past Brady and a woman he didn't recognize, completely uncaring for the falling snow as two familiar figures half-jumped, half-tumbled out the driver-side window of a compact SUV and clambered down the snowy walkway toward him.

Kneeling, Skylar caught them up as they reached him, stooping to let them lick and nuzzle and nip until they were satisfied. Hot tears stung his eyes, quickly wiped away by overeager licking. "I missed you, too," he finally managed, voice rough, ragged. "I missed you so much."

"You weren't kidding," the woman said, voice barely carrying through the wind and snow.

Brady's voice was louder, clearer, when he replied, "I was dead serious. Do you see why we're pushing so hard? You tell me what's wrong with that arrangement."

"I will certainly mention it when I submit the paperwork."

Skylar finally scooped the puppies up and rose, turning around and reluctantly returning to the house and waiting woman as Brady beckoned to him. "What are they doing here?"

"They were supposed to be waiting in the car," the woman said wryly. She was pretty, with dark hair and skin, something about her business-like, efficient, though she wore jeans, boots, and a poofy, bright red coat. She stripped the coat off as they all bustled back into the house. "I have no frigging clue how they opened the window the whole way—I only left it cracked."

In the living room, Skylar settled on the floor with Hansel and Gretel, unable to stop touching them, smiling with every lick and nip. The woman sat on one end of the couch, murmuring thanks when Brady brought her a soda. He handed Skylar his beer, then settled nearby on the floor with his own.

"So you're the Skylar Trapp about whom I've heard so much. I was told they adored you, but I'm still astonished to see how much they've bonded. No wonder they've seemed so depressed these past two weeks. We kept expecting them to settle, but it's obvious now why they wouldn't. It troubles me they don't seem to miss their parents at all." She sighed.

"They were left in my woods," Skylar said softly, heart wrenching in his chest as Hansel and Gretel settled in his lap and almost immediately fell asleep, snorting and snuffling quietly. "I never wanted them to leave."

"Well, they may be yours again," Brady said. "I promised, didn't I? It's highly unusual, though. Like, completely unheard of. You'd be setting a hell of a precedent if you were granted adoption rights. I didn't want to tell you, get your hopes up, until I knew I had good news for you... Emily here is the one fighting the case."

Emily nodded. "I think, despite everything, that it will go through. The fact that Angela, Maya, and Harvey all issued recommendations really helps, and of course there are the statements from the wolves who took your reports, the fact you've begun dating Brady..."

Skylar looked over at Brady, who looked sheepish. "I may have exaggerated that one slightly, both because I'm optimistic and I knew it would help."

Skylar smiled at him—then the other things Emily said registered. "Wait. Maya? You mean Mrs. Grey? Since when does she recommend me for anything other than a cage?"

"Everyone was surprised," Brady replied. "She was _pissed_ with her sister. Did you miss all that at the hearing? They're no longer speaking and Maya has severed all connections with her old pack. It's all anyone is talking about—well, that and the involvement of a badass snake who defended the puppies and even got fangy with their dumb bitch mother."

"I'm not a badass," Skylar replied, snorting. "I'm a snake, biting comes naturally."

Emily laughed softly. "Well, he's right in that stories of you grow and grow. I'm submitting all the necessary paperwork tomorrow when I reach the offices—unless the snow gets in my way, of course, in which case it'll take an extra day or two. If they approve a trial period, I'll bring you paperwork to sign. But I should warn you now that as part of it they probably will require you move to be closer to a pack. Are you going to live here...?"

"We'll see," Brady said. "I don't want to rush anything, but he'll definitely get permission to reside on pack lands. If he chooses to keep to his own home, though, we'll support him, whatever the council says."

"They should be close to other wolves," Skylar said. "I'll do whatever I have to, I don't care. They're mine. Whatever it takes to make that legal, I'll do it."

Emily nodded. "I'll be sure to include that. I was actually stopping by to see if Brady would mind watching them since the roads are dangerous enough I wasn't happy taking them with me, but the foster family watching them was honestly at their wit's end trying to care for two such despondent pups."

"I think my answer is obvious," Brady said. "Thanks, Emily."

"Thank you," Emily replied. "I'll call you when I know something more, but I think I can go ahead and say welcome to the pack, Skylar. We look forward to seeing you at the next community gathering. I'll see you guys later." She waved Brady off when he started to stand to show her out.

Skylar stared at Hansel and Gretel, unable to believe it. "Are they... is there really a chance I could adopt them? Me?"

"Yeah, Sky." Brady moved closer, draped an arm over his shoulder, and pressed their temples together. "Like I said, I wanted to wait until more of the paperwork had gone through. I'm sorry for not speaking up—"

"No, it's okay. It makes sense. I just—I can't believe they might let _me_ —" He blinked away more tears. "You don't mind? Them and your daughter, all of this..."

Brady kissed his temple. "It could blow up in our faces. We may go our separate ways in the end. But I get the feeling we won't and we won't know until we try. I'm all for trying to build a family together if you are."

"Definitely," Skylar said softly, turning his head to kiss Brady properly, puppies still snoring happily in his lap.

# About the Author

Megan is a long time resident of m/m fiction, and keeps herself busy reading, writing, and publishing it. She is often accused of fluff and nonsense. When she's not involved in writing, she likes to cook, harass her cats, or watch movies (especially all things James Bond). She loves to hear from readers, and can be found all around the internet.

maderr.com

maderr.tumblr.com

maderr.livejournal.com

lessthanthreepress.com

@amasour

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaBook


text:
Birampur è un sottodistretto (upazila) del Bangladesh situato nel distretto di Dinajpur, divisione di Rangpur. Si estende su una superficie di 211,81 km² e conta una popolazione di  170.806 abitanti (censimento 2011).

Note

Collegamenti esterni

Upazila

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


text:
NewsCovering California
California jail guard indicted for sex assaults on inmates
This image provided by the Shenandoah Valley Juvenile Center shows part of the interior of the building in Staunton, Va. (Shenandoah Valley Juvenile Center via AP)
STOCKTON, Calif. (AP) — A California correctional officer was indicted Thursday on multiple counts of sexually assaulting female inmates at the San Joaquin County Jail, just months after another officer at the same facility was convicted of rape and other sexual assaults on inmates.
The San Joaquin district attorney said Alex Tafoya was arraigned on charges that include oral copulation by force, sexual penetration by force, false imprisonment by violence, fraud or deceit and assault by a police officer.
Tafoya's indictment by a federal grand jury comes after another officer at the San Joaquin County Jail, Zachary Simmons, was convicted in October of sexually assaulting multiple female inmates.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl