The room is spacious and is filled with soft rugs and light, airy colors. It has floor to ceiling windows that look out over the sea. When we built it, we had wanted our Mate to feel connected to us no matter what form we were in, so we built a small porch that overlooks the dock with a swim up raft that we can use to come and go.
Earl fluffs the pillows and looks around the room with an appraising eye. Now that we have a potential Mate, the stakes seem higher. Will she like the colors? Will she hate being in the back of the building?
“It doesn't look like her," Earl says gruffly, stomping around to make minor adjustments to things.
I disagree.
I can see Ronnie in everything we have prepared. When I look at the extra-large bed and the soft sheepskin rugs on the floor beside it, I can envision mornings spent piled in it together. For a completed pod, our Mate is the center of our world.
We gravitate towards her. We protect her. Love her. Worship her.
No, Earl is wrong. This room is for Ronnie. He’s just too nervous and afraid of her leaving us to realize it.
Bryan claps him on the shoulder and leads him out onto the deck. They both shift and dive into the water to ease their angst in the waves.
I think about joining them, but the thin layer of dust on the furniture stops me.
We have a potential mate, and her room needs to be ready for when she makes her decision.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: RONNIE
DESPITE ALL THE SHIFTER weirdness, the little town of Misty Cove is starting to grow on me. It’s the kind of town I always wished I could live in. Not too big, not too small. The people I meet are genuinely interested in who I am, and I want to believe that it’s not just because some mystical super-rock makes them horny around me.
Glenda comes over most mornings with various goodies that she’s baked and stays for a bit to have coffee and chat. It’s becoming the best part of my mornings. Having another woman to talk to is a blessed relief in the land of too much testosterone.
I think the guys have picked up on my need for female companionship, because they always make themselves scarce when Glenda is around. She never asks me about the Matestone or the guys, and we usually spend our time together talking about her life in Misty Cove—what it was like growing up here and raising her kits.
There are only a handful of Elders that still remain in the town, and all of them sound like a handful. The hours pass by swiftly as I listen to Glenda’s stories and I soon find myself wanting to know even more about this fascinating little town.
One perk of making friends with one of the oldest residents is that Glenda knows everyone and she’s been quite helpful in introducing me around. I think the guys have also seen the benefit of my friendship with Glenda. It’s definitely a good way to let me get used to shifter society, and Glenda can hold her own against anything that might threaten me.
The whole town is preparing for the massive surfing festival and I find it fascinating. Pods, covens, packs, and clans come from all over the country to compete and socialize at this one-weekend event. The entire town of Misty Cove quadruples in size during the festival, and security tightens to keep humans out.
I remember what Darren told me about the Club acting as the primary security force in town but Glenda just laughs. “Oh no, dear. Not for an event like this. We call upon the town witches for this. The boys and their bikes are great for keeping the rogues in line but we’re talking about 10,000 people and only six of them. We need bigger magic than that.”
“Well, I for one feel safe with them,” I grumble, strangely defensive of any perceived slight toward the Club.
Glenda catches my eye and then drops it meaningfully to the crystal around my neck. “Of course, dear.” Her eyes are twinkling merrily and I grumble some more.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: RONNIE
“COME ON, RONNIE. WE’RE going out.” Glenda meets me at the door and holds out a biscuit wrapped in a plaid napkin. It’s still warm. Glenda knows how to push my buttons. Baked goods ensure I am immediately ready for whatever she wants to do.
“Where we going, oh, fearless leader?” I joke, hurrying down the steps after her. I wave to Chuck so he knows I’m leaving and he waves back.
“We’re going to find out what you are!” Glenda says brightly.
I pause.
I gave the guys a lot of shit about implying I am somehow anything other than completely human.
I still have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that any of this is possible.
But... given everything that has happened, maybe it would be prudent to at least entertain the possibility that something might be up.
“Don’t you want to know what you are, Ronnie?” she asks as she studies my face carefully.
I honestly don’t know if I do or not. I’ve spent 38 years being Ronnie—a solidly average human in every way.
“Is there an easy way to find out?” I finally answer her.
Glenda thinks for a moment, her brow furrowed.
“Easy? No. Mostly painless? Maybe.”
I sigh.
Knowledge is power, right?
“Ok, Glenda, let’s try it. Might as well add to the ‘nothing is the way it should be’ parade.” My sighs are heavy and whatever expression I have on my face makes Glenda laugh out loud and pull me into a reassuring hug.
“You know, trusting Fate does not mean giving up, or submitting, or anything like that,” she says suddenly, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to pierce me with an uncharacteristically serious look. “If that’s what you’re scared of? If that’s what is holding you back from choosing your Pod? Don’t be.
