LIAM: THE FIRST THOUGHT THAT ENTERED MY BRAIN WAS ONE OF FAMILY, OF MY SON, PETER.

The son that I just latched my teeth onto and drew blood. What had I done?

The man with the gun was ready to kill me for what I had done. I bit him, my boy. I didn’t mean to. I was just so scared, so angry. That smoke was in my head and filling it with hate.

I stared down the barrel of that gun, but Peter was quicker, rushing to my side and raising his arms in the air to try to block the gunshot.

It never came.

The man with the gun grimaced, hands shaking.

“Dammit, boy, get out of the way.”

“No.” He said, midway to crying. “He didn’t mean to bite me.”

Briar stood defeated, his own hands shaking as well.

I whined in response, licking Peter’s shoulder to try to show I was okay

Briar cried in relief at the sight.

“He’s okay now, Deacon!” He said through his tears, so rarely did they fall. He ran over to my side as well, lowering Peter’s arms and holding me tight to his body. I allowed it, with another whine. I licked the jaw of the man I loved, thankful for him being there to help. His tears were salty.

Deacon lowered the gun, looking conflicted. “Dammit.” he hissed “You gave us a fright, little shit.”

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Pete relaxed all at once, smiling in relief and turning to face me, hugging me just as tight as Briar was. I was squeezed between both boys, grumbling in strain before they finally relaxed their hold on me.

When I looked over at the man with the gun, Deacon, he was on the phone with someone.

The events that followed were a blur. More people came, and started taking away the wolves that made it out in their cars and trucks. Briar said they were being taken home, wherever that was. Meanwhile, Briar, Pete and I went home in my car while Deacon and Marie stayed behind to set up a cover story for the police.

Something about there being an illegal fur trafficking ring here in the woods, with the feral wolves and countless cages to prove it. Said they started shooting when they got too close, and Deacon and Marie were just defending themselves.

It was a little loosey goosey in my opinion, but I was sure they’d iron out the finer details. Besides, I wanted out of there ASAP.

The car ride home was mostly filled with the boys telling me exactly what had happened when I was taken, and a long chat with Clarice about how they’d found me. They conveniently left the details out about my little hiccup with the whole going feral thing but otherwise seemed to be mostly on point with what had happened save for my side of the story, which I would recount later in the evening after Briar walked me through my shift back to human.

It really was better the second time, I realized.

I was also able to officially apologize for biting not one of them, but both of them, which I did the best way I knew how: Food. I pulled out all the stops, and found my new senses as a werewolf only helped me to find what I needed to enhance the flavor.

Of course throughout the meal I apologized numerous times but both boys just dismissed me and said they were glad I was safe and back home.

Briar had some theories about the smoke they used to force a shift, since wolfsbane really did affect wolves, depending on the type they used it could have forced a reaction as well.

All three of us spent the evening in a big pile on the couch, watching feel-good family movies to wind down from the excitement of the day.

Excitement is an understatement, but I really did feel okay now that I was home.

“This time…” I thought to myself out loud in the shower.

“This time is my happily ever after.”