“That one’s easy. Every Monday night, the ice cream truck would come near my house. There was this really nice girl who lived down the road. She was in my class in third grade. She was human. Maria. I would beg my mom to let me have a slumber party, but humans weren’t allowed in our house. Too many foxes under one roof, and we would’ve been busted. But on Monday nights, I would run down our long driveway, and Maria would meet me at the ice cream truck, our moms would talk for a while, and we would run around edge of the woods playing. She was so nice. A sweet soul. She never put me down. She told me I was her best friend, and I would just…glow. We would get the same ice cream each week because we liked to match. And sometimes we would plan on what we would wear the next week when Monday rolled around again. I made us these matching hair bows one week, and she was so happy with it. Maria never minded that I was quiet, or soft spoken, or that I couldn’t meet her eyes when we played. She was fine with me just the way I was, and at the time, that was a really big deal.”
“Mmm,” he rumbled, turning his cheek so she could trim at a better angle. “What happened to Maria?”
“She moved away when we were in fifth grade. Her dad got a job in Oklahoma.”
“Did you find more friends after that?”
“I think it’s hard for people to be friends with someone who has social anxiety if they don’t understand it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I tried in high school to find someone like Maria. It would be good for a while, but they would get tired of me wanting to stay in. Movie nights got boring, and when they wanted to be in crowds, or talk with other friends, I clammed up. People probably thought I was rude, but it wasn’t that. I cared very much. I was just…extremely shy, and didn’t know how to talk to people. I never got over it. The anxiety stayed exactly the same. One panic attack, and they would bail, and eventually I got scared of that rejection, so I didn’t try anymore. I just tried to make a place in the den.”
“But you didn’t. You stayed on the outside.”
“Not my choice. I used to wish I was normal. That I would just wake up and be more outgoing, not have that heavy, fluttering, awful feeling in my chest when I would be in crowds. That I would be able to stick up for myself with my brothers and sisters and parents and cousins and the rest of the den. Never happened, though.”
“Do you want to know a bright side to that?” he asked as she finished trimming his beard short.
“Yes.”
“You don’t realize how strong they made you. It was a slow build, and I bet you feel weak for not being more assertive, but you’re wrong. I see steel in you, little fox.”
“Oh, no, not me,” she said, her cheeks heating as she scooped warm water and massaged it onto his short whiskers. “There’s no steel in me. Everyone walks on me, and I let them.”
“Do you? Because today I watched a fox stop the Red Dragon mid-Change. I watched you. Couldn’t keep my attention on the fight with Torren because you were charging a mother-fucking dragon, and you didn’t slow down at all. Little bat out of hell—”
“Who took a piss on his hand—”
“Who was smart about keeping him steady. Don’t sell yourself short with me, Nevada. I see you, and I don’t buy it. Be self-deprecating with everyone else. Ain’t no room for that between us though unless you’re joking. You’re a little red-furred, gold-eyed hellion. I’m damn proud of you. And oh, my gah! Your animal is so fuckin’ cute. I wanted to cuddle you longer but stupid Vyr punched me. Maybe I deserved it, but still…I was having a moment, and he’s not forgiven. Your fur is really soft. Not like mine. Mine’s rough. And your eyes are so pretty.”
Her cheeks were on fire now with his compliments. He liked the way she looked as a human and in her animal form, and that was pretty special to a girl like her. “Your turn. Favorite childhood memory.”
“Okay…once a month, my dad would plan this big father-son prank. One time we broke into this silverback shifter’s trailer and nailed all the furniture to the ceiling. Kirk was so pissed he and his mate took a week-long vacation away from us. His mate, Alison, thanked us later though, in secret, because she got to go to Cabo. And another time, there was this shifter who slept like the dead. So on his day off, when he was mid-nap, me and my dad hooked up his trailer and dragged it to a different trailer park and left it. Bash woke up totally confused. I mean, he and my dad went to blows over it, but Dad was always down for a good fight.”
“Sounds familiar,” Nevada deadpanned.
“But my favorite memories weren’t the pranks themselves. It was the tradition we had after.”
“What was it?” she asked, as she massaged shaving cream onto his jaw.
“He would always take me out afterward to this gas station restaurant fifteen minutes from Damon’s Mountains. They had the best fried burritos, and we would order enough to make us sick…just piles of them, and we would sit there and eat them all and talk and laugh over what we’d just done. Then plan our next one. We did that for as long as I can remember. We do it still.”
“Clinton sounds like a really good dad.”
Nox smiled. “You researched the Cursed Bear.”
“I already knew about the Cursed Bear. I used to wonder what it would be like being raised in Damon’s Mountains where everyone is so open about being a shifter. I used to fantasize about how it would be if I didn’t have to be so secretive.”
“It has cons too, Nevada. We were always at war with someone and had to keep that from human eyes. Our secrets were different from yours, but they were secrets just the same.”
“You fought in wars?”
“Too many to count. The shifters in Damon’s Mountains were part of the first wave who had to register with the government. It created enemies. There was always some crew, family group, or pride after us for some reason or another. Who knows what the right answer is. Registering like we had to do or staying secret like you had to do. Maybe there is no right answer.”
“Will I have to register since I’m your mate?”
“You’re supposed to, but rules are for suckers, and I’m not gonna out you as a fox shifter. If it came down to it and we got pushed into registration? I’d claim you as human on the paperwork and dick-punch anyone who questioned it.”
She sighed in relief as she swirled the razor in the tub of water. She’d been worried about that actually. “What if I cut you?” she asked, poising the razor against his cheek.
“You bit me earlier, and I gave you zero shit for that. It’s not the end of the world if you nick me. Take that pressure off yourself.” Nox wiped a finger against his jaw and booped shaving cream onto her nose. “It’s just you and me.”
Well, that did make her feel better. She giggled as she wiped her face on the sleeve of her shirt, and then she ran the razor down his jaw. She was slow and steady about it, but couldn’t stop smiling because Nox kept his gaze glued to her face. He looked so lovey dovey, like a school boy with a crush, and she wondered if she’d ever been this happy a single day in her life. How had she gone this long without Nox to make her feel like she belonged?
For a while, the only sound was the scrape, scrape, scrape of the razor gliding down his face. And as he tilted his head farther back for her to drag the razor down his throat, she asked, “Will you still like me if my face is scarred?”