They talked for what seemed like hours about their dreams, each recalling the smallest details that might have seemed insignificant to anyone else. It was how they knew they were in the exact same dream world, experiencing the same reverie. From the softness of the grass under their feet to the smell of soon to be erupted flowers, the sounds of the forest and the chill of the midnight air, they were under no illusion their dreams were one and the same.
Emma was filled with conflict. On one hand, she was relieved to finally know that her dream meant something, and she was not just plagued by the nightmare of losing her father for no reason. But what was the reason? The only differing detail in both of their visions was the name on the grave, so they had deduced it had to mean something, only they had no idea what it was trying to show them. Killian assured her time and time again it didn't necessarily mean her father was fated to die, but the fact that Killian couldn't locate his own father alive meant he didn't exactly believe his own assurances.
To take their mind off things, Killian had suggested taking Emma to dinner. They were in a part of town she would not be recognized and so, without hesitation, Emma had agreed. He picked a casual Italian place, and when he had entered with her arm looped through his, the owner had almost danced with glee to see one of his favourite patrons finally dining with another. Emma gave him a nervous smile and they were seated opposite each other in a private little booth away from prying eyes, but the minute they sat down she was invaded with Graham's scent.
"Are you alright?" Killian asked her gently, reaching across the table to grasp her hand with his when he noticed she was busy scanning the restaurant. For what, he wasn't sure, and he didn't detect anything out of the ordinary, casually inhaling to try and find the scent she could quite clearly smell. "You seem distracted."
Emma frowned a little. "I can smell someone from my pack here," she almost whispered, eyes still scanning over the other diners, but unable to find what she sought.
"Can you see anyone?" Killian asked her quickly, trying not to draw any attention as he fidgeted with his napkin.
"No," Emma shook her head a little, disguising the action by pretending to flick her lightly curled golden locks over her shoulder. "I can't see him."
"Is it Graham?" Killian offered casually, opening the menu with his free hand and pretending to browse the selection.
Finally, Emma looked at him and gave a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "Are you jealous, Jones?" she teased, relaxing a little. The scent was old, a few days at least, and it was possible that, with all of her recent stress, Emma was confusing what she could smell with what she had smelled recently. It was a mixture of musk and human aftershave that could have been worn by a thousand other human men, not just Graham, so when she couldn't visually locate the Misthaven beta, she figured she was being paranoid.
"Of course," Killian winked at her, giving her hand a squeeze.
"You don't have to worry about Graham, trust me," Emma said firmly, scooting to the edge of her bench seat and wrapping her other hand around his. "He would be the last wolf I'd want." Emma's words left her mouth with a little more disgust than she had intended for her pseudo-sibling, and Killian noticed.
"He's your betrothed, isn't he?" Killian asked with a soft tone, the pain evident in his words. Emma held his gaze and swallowed slowly.
"Yes." There was no point in hiding it any longer. Killian knew about everything anyway, so why not divulge the name of who her pack wanted her to marry. "And he is also the beta in my pack, so me running away is a big deal."
"Ah, I see," Killian nodded in understanding. "The chance of you being able to smell him is more than an unlikely coincidence then?"
"I'm afraid so," Emma agreed. "He'll find me eventually."
Killian sat back in the booth, pulling his hand from hers and lightly scratching over the stubble on his jaw. Emma could see him thinking, almost hear his thought processes as he looked around the restaurant. He ate here frequently and nothing seemed out of the ordinary for this time of the week - no new patrons, no new smells - but clearly something had Emma spooked, and he would not abide that.
Killian had waited his whole life to belong, to feel like he was accepted. Emma gave him that. She gave him a sense of humanity, as well as accepted him for the wolf he was. He was not much by werewolf standards, smaller than the average wolf and with no pack or status to offer her, but he was sure, without a doubt, that he would fight with everything he had for her.
He would fight to the death if necessary.
"Then let him come," Killian nodded with a tight smile. He sat forward and claimed her hands in his once more, his fingers tangling with hers and interlocking their hands tightly. "I'll fight for you, Emma. I promised you forever, and if it means a little bloodshed to get there, then-"
"I don't want that," Emma interjected quickly, clutching his hand tighter.
"Neither do I," Killian admitted honestly. "But I will fight for you, Emma. I will fight with everything I have to keep you safe."
"Graham would never hurt me," Emma said slowly, her gaze locked with Killian's across the table. As acute as their hearing was, neither of them heard a single voice or sound in the restaurant in that moment except for the thrumming of each other's blood. Emma flushed hot, a nervous human reaction to what they were both thinking.
"But what of me?" Killian laughed nervously, vocalising both of their fears. He didn't know much about pack politics, but he knew enough that if Emma was to be married to another, and they wanted her back at all costs, then killing him or any other wolf in their way was nothing. Emma's silence confirmed he was right.
The owner of the restaurant, Tony, chose that exact moment to appear, dogeared notepad in hand and a half length pencil tucked behind his ear. Killian stood to greet him, shaking the man's hand vigorously and then introducing Emma as his date, the slight blush that crept over his cheeks at his admission not going unnoticed. Emma blushed as well, a very human reaction she had rarely experienced before because of the way it revealed too much to a foe.
After some pleasantries, they ordered one of the restaurant's speciality dishes; a huge plate of spaghetti and homemade meatballs gently tossed into a basil infused ragu. Emma had never tried meatballs before but after Killian's insistence, she was in love. The meatballs melted in her mouth, the taste of herbs and cooked meat so exotic and peppery on her tongue, she couldn't help but moan after every mouthful, much to Killian's amusement.
Emma was an eclectic mix of someone who had seen everything the world had to offer and yet had experienced nothing at the same time. Killian loved the way simple things seemed to excite her beyond belief, like she had learned everything she knew from books alone, without ever setting foot outside. She had mentioned her pack were old school before, but Killian couldn't stop his smile each time she became giddy over such trivial things.
After the restaurant, they were strolling down the nearly empty sidewalk when Emma spotted a poster for a local fair. It came to town every year, and Killian had gone before, but never with anyone. He used to go with his brother as a way for both of them to remember their mother, who loved to go to such things, but he never had the opportunity to take someone else. Emma's enthusiasm upon learning what a fair actually was, prompted her begging, almost whining, for him to show her as she excitedly tapped the ripped poster upon the rough brick wall.
The fair was close to his home and after they had driven back to his place, Killian suggested they walk there to enjoy the night air. It was crisp and cool, but the lingering smell of the pastries from the nearby diner had Emma's smile growing even wider as they strolled to their destination. Like a kid at Christmas, Emma almost ran through the barriers as Killian paid for two tickets, watching her enjoyment and feeling the swell of his heart at how happy she was.
There was no way that Emma would have ever been allowed to go to a fair if she had been with anyone from her pack. This would have been on the forbidden list of human activities. The Chronicle was clear, as her father constantly reminded her, that any human activity deemed frivolous or that dulled the responses was not allowed. Apparently, fun was at the top of that list, because Emma had never had so much.
Her arms were overloaded with soft toys, and the taste of cotton candy still lingered on her tongue as they called it a night. Spun sugar had made her fingers sticky, but she didn't mind at all, and even eating a corndog was new. Emma felt human for a second and loved each and every time Killian used his supernatural abilities to his advantage, winning her everything that she requested. There was no weakness in what she felt, only love and compassion for the wolf at her side, and not for the first time, Emma began to question the laws by which she had been raised. Nothing was off limits for her, Killian had made that clear, and as they ducked through the trees, taking a shortcut back to his apartment, Emma stopped him suddenly by grabbing his hand.
"Thank you," Emma smiled sweetly, tugging his arm gently until he turned to look at her.
"For what?" Killian frowned, shaking his head a little from side to side as he stepped into her space. His chest bumped into the pile of bears in her arms, the soft furs brushing his arms as he rubbed a hand over her shoulders.
"Everything," Emma smiled at him, leaning into his body.
"I just took you to the fair," Killian blushed modestly, reaching behind his ear to scratch there nervously. "It was no trouble."
"No," Emma said definitely, tossing the soft toys to the ground beside them. One squeaked as it hit the ground and Killian's ears perked up a little at the sound, but he kept his gaze trained on her. "You've done so much more."
"It was nothing, lass," Killian smiled. He trailed his hand down her arms, clutching her fingers between his, lifting their hands and interlocking their digits lovingly. Emma tightened her grip and pulled him even closer to her, their bodies crashing together and their noses almost bumping in the darkness. Even though it was nearly a full moon, the canopy of trees overhead afforded them some privacy from the silvery glow.
"It's everything," Emma breathed, her eyes flicking between Killian's and his lips, visible in the darkness because of their ability to see in low lights. Killian swallowed and his mouth twitched, the corners tugging into a small smile. He licked them quickly, leaning forward to offer her a kiss, but Emma pulled away and he frowned, confused.
Emma stepped back, untangling their hands, and in one swift motion, she lifted her shirt up and over her head. Killian felt a different kind of energy surge through him, more than just arousal as Emma undressed, a collection of feelings that set his nerve endings on fire and made panic set into his bones.
"Emma, what are you doing?" he asked nervously, fully aware of the only reason werewolves took off their clothes in the woods. He knew enough about werewolf lore to know that if they were discovered right now, he wouldn't be able to talk his way out of any punishment.
"I want you to see me," Emma told him softly, tossing the last remnants of her clothing aside and standing in front of him gloriously nude. Her nipples peaked in the night air, pebbling into hard nubs atop the fleshy mounds of her breasts and causing his loins to stir.
"I can't," Killian turned away, clenching his jaw tightly and exhaling hard into his hand that covered his mouth. He hadn't realised what Emma meant until that second - her shift. "It's...I can't let you. If anyone finds out-"
Emma snorted a laugh through her nose and walked towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder and encouraging him to turn and face her once more. "They won't," she offered lightly. "Killian, I want to show you this part of me."
"Emma," he ground out through clenched teeth, pinching his eyes closed almost painfully. He could smell her change coming, could sense the shift of bones and muscle about to happen, the electricity flowing through her hand and into his, like an open current.
Their connection was something special, almost like twins in nature, where Killian could feel everything about Emma's change at the same time she could, but what was even more unnerving was the way he was desperately attempting to halt his own change at the same time. Killian's inner wolf howled to be free, clawing at his insides, yearning to join his soul mate in their true, free form.
"It's okay," Emma soothed, running her hand over the sweat of his brow, calming him instantly. Killian exhaled hard, eyes tightly closed, and his face twisted with a mixture of pain and the resistance to join her. Emma leaned forward, pressing her lips to his cheek only briefly before stepping back and letting their hands fall apart. "I want this," she murmured, offering him a smile he couldn't see as her shift ravaged her body.
When Killian opened his eyes, he was not met with the usual hazel green hues of Emma that he could get lost in for hours, but was staring out into the darkness of the forest. A soft whine alerted him, and he looked down, the dirt lightly disturbed by the huge grey and red she-wolf sitting at his feet. Even as a wolf Emma was beautiful, and Killian's breath was taken from him, the softness behind her almond shaped eyes warming his heart.
"Emma, you could get into real trouble. You shouldn't have done this," Killian admonished weakly, finally relenting to her will.
Emma cocked her head to the side, her maw slightly ajar, halting its panting, and her ears pricked on her head. She watched him intently like a dog focused on a ball about to be thrown, and when Killian reached for the buttons of his shirt, she jumped back to her feet, her tail curled over her back where it began brushing her spine in a slowly increasing rhythm.
"Forever, right?" Killian arched a brow at her, finally pulling the edges of the shirt open and pulling his arms free. He tossed the material her way, smirking when she hopped out of the way with a playfully growl. "Just so you know, and I'm only saying this because I know you can't argue back right now, you are buying breakfast," Killian teased, pulling his belt open and feeling the ease in his muscles as his body surrendered to the beginning of his change.
Emma's muzzle hung open once more, her happy dog smile lighting up her eyes when she realised he was about to change. When Killian was fully naked in front of her, his clothes a discarded mess of jeans and leather boots, Emma gave him one final whimper of encouragement before tearing off into the night, her feet skidding against the dried leaves under her paws as she swerved to avoid his legs.
"Wait!" Killian called out after her, twisting his body to watch her go. The sound of breaking branches echoed from the tree line, growing more and more distant, the sound indistinguishable from the creaking of his bones. Killian let out a cry and fell to his knees, falling forward onto his hands and clawing at the ground with a grunt. It was not advisable to fight one's change, he had always been told not to, and now the pain tearing through his body was a testament to why. "One of these days, I'll stop chasing after this she-wolf," he growled to himself, the syllables of his last words stretching out and turning into a full blown howl when his transformation was complete.
Emma stopped running as soon as she heard the howl, a quick exhale leaving remnants of condensation in the air in front of her nose and she spun on her heels to face the direction she had cantered from. The leather pad twitched at the end of her muzzle, desperate to find the scent of Killian in the non-existent breeze, the still of the forest offering him the perfect camouflage and the absence of wind the perfect opportunity to stalk her. Emma's canine heart pounded thrice as fast in her chest, eyes flitting around the trees to try and guess the direction he would appear from.
She was tense, no doubt about it. Suddenly she was the prey, a feeling she had never experienced before, and the hackles on the back of her neck sprang to attention. Her ears swiveled on her head, twisting this way and that, trying to find a single indication of Killian's presence nearby. Again she tilted her head back, inhaling hard into the night, but was met with nothing but the approaching rain and the damp, forest floor.
She froze, holding her breath, her eyes wide in an attempt to let in as much of the little light that was in the forest that night. She saw nothing, her paws flexing in the detritus in anticipation of running, her tail hanging low between her legs. She was deflated. She thought Killian would follow her, she thought he would be at her side and for a second, she missed his contact, whining into the night.
A twig snapped behind her and Emma turned instantly, staring intently into the bushes behind her. Every hair on her body stood on end and she couldn't hear anything but the pounding of her blood. The shape of her ears funneled in the noises of the night, but it wasn't until she saw the glow of blue between the dark green leaves that she shifted her weight backward and her tail began to wag. It brushed her hocks, and she stamped her paws forward in a playful bow gesture, enticing the blue eyed shadow out of his hiding place to join her.
Killian emerged slowly, the bushes snagging against his fur, his ears flattened to the top of his broad wolf skull as he pushed his muzzle through the prickly branches. Emma made a high pitched yelp, spinning on the spot in excitement of his arrival, glad to finally see him. He approached her cautiously, fur puffed out and ears erect on his head, his bush-like tail laying over his back in a tight curl. Emma halted her spin, meeting him with a puppy like submission, licking at his maw and pawing at his face in eagerness, loving his masculine demeanor as he let her.
There seemed to be a switch in roles; Killian suddenly became protective and dominant over her. Maybe it was their connection, maybe it was something else, but Emma felt helpless against him and rolled onto her back at his paws, tail tucked between her legs where it swiped to and fro over her hairless belly. Killian sniffed at her, avoiding her pawing with a dodge each time she tried to press her foot to his muzzle, until Emma suddenly slipped out from under him and sprang to her feet once more. Killian flinched back, slightly confused by her sudden innocent nature, but he didn't have time to react before Emma turned and high tailed it back through the trees in the direction she had come from.
Killian took off after her, a low growl tumbling from his throat as he pounded the earth, newly formed branches snapping under the weight of his body as he forced his bulk through the narrow brush. A squeak tore through the forest, close by he could tell, and with a wolfish grin he increased his speed towards their discarded clothes. When he burst through the tree line Emma was waiting, her tail flying from left to right and her head shaking from side to side. In her mouth, she had one of the toys he had won her from the fair, the squeak inside of its soft, filled belly igniting the playfulness inside of her as if she were a puppy.
Emma closed her jaws around the toy, again and again, the high pitched squeaker piercing his eardrums everytime she chewed on it and growled at the toy in response. Killian inched forward, his own tail wagging furiously as he attempted to nip at the toy in her jaws, carefully teasing the leg of the fluffy, blue bear away from her muzzle with a gentle pull. Emma growled but there was no malice behind her tone, pulling the toy away from his reach just enough that he attempted to acquire it once more.
It was a game, a silly game that only domesticated dogs played, but somehow, under the cover of darkness, two fully grown werewolves had entered into a game of tug-o-war with a soft toy neither of them really wanted. It wasn't about the toy, it was about having fun, Killian's final acceptance to embrace his wolfish nature for more than just running to relieve stress. Emma wanted him to be free, hold onto his true nature and stop fighting what they both already knew.
Two halves of the same moon may never meet, but they will always fit together perfectly to make a whole.
Whilst Emma was distracted by the hoot of an owl, Killian managed to grab the toy, the squeaker shrieking under protest but soon fizzling away as his powerful canine popped the thin, plastic shell. Emma pulled, the muscles in her neck tensing under the strain, but Killian did not let go, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he declared to her that the toy was his. Emma growled back, her feet digging into the leaf littered floor as she pulled back, her equal size and impressive strength moving him with her.
Killian pulled even harder, moving around her in an attempt to twist it from her jaws, but Emma would not yield, her head turning unnaturally and her body soon following to straighten up. They were at an impasse for a few seconds, blue eyes staring into green, grunts of exertion through half muffled noses filling the air between them before, with one last tug, Emma managed to tear the toy in two, and paraded around with the head of the bear between her teeth.
Killian sat and dropped his half, white stuffing fibers stuck to his tongue. He shook his head, twitching it to the side as his tongue rolled in waves to eject the offending material from his mouth, his eyes trained on Emma who had stopped to mock him with a wolfish grin. She had dropped the decapitated head of the bear and was pacing towards him determinedly, and if Killian didn't know better he would say she was swaying her hips in an attempt to seduce him.
When she reached him, her nose touching his and pushing against his face, he reared up onto his back legs like a begging dog and lost his balance, falling back against the tree behind him with a low groan. He shook it off, slouched against the rough bark when an all too human cry of anguish filled his ears, and he looked forward again to see Emma mid shift.
Killian was too late to look away; he had seen too much. Paws became hands, fingers long and delicate and Emma's tail disappeared to reveal the soft, white curve of her behind. She cried out again and Killian felt a pull, as if an invisible thread had been tugged on and when she sank to the ground on all fours as human once more, Killian felt his own body change.
There was no pain with his shift, only amazement, and awe at the woman in front of him who had made sure he would watch her this time. Emma had made sure he could see, made sure he was distracted enough with their frivolous game that he would never see it coming until it was too late, and he was gazing upon the most intimate parts of her. And there was no taking it back now, the gnarled bark on the tree digging into his human spine going unnoticed as Emma looked over to him with a smirk.
"Forever," she said softly, reiterating his earlier words before she sank to the forest floor exhausted.
The morning was cool, a light covering of fog hanging in the air, slowly disappearing as the morning sun grew hotter, evaporating it from existence. Emma walked along the sidewalk with a definite spring in her step, her newly acquired hoodie hanging off of one shoulder and her hair tied into a loose ponytail to the side. She was sure Killian wouldn't mind her borrowing a few clothes, especially seeing as by the time he stirred, she would have returned with an aforementioned breakfast.
There were few people around at this time of the morning. Emma had always been an early riser, unless especially exhausted, and she had discovered a new found affinity for people watching. Humans were fascinating, barely awake themselves, and yet able to function from muscle memory alone as they made their way to their places of work under the thrall of tiredness. It felt good to be amongst them, like one of them, blending into a society that knew no more than she would allow - something Emma had never been afforded as a Misthaven wolf before.
The Chronicle was abundantly clear when it came to affairs of humanity. To protect all werewolf kind, living with or near humans was discouraged, lest their true identity become a revelation. There had never been a werewolf revealed to humanity, not in Emma's entire bloodline, but it was the fear of discovery that kept many of the werewolves in her community petrified of even gazing upon a human. They were nothing to wolves, and as insignificant as the insects that inhabited the world.
If wolves never bothered humans, humans would never know.
Emma rounded the final corner on her way to the diner Killian had told her about, the scent of the freshly raised sweet pastry dough filling her nostrils. Killian had given her very quick instructions, but Emma was sure she could have still followed her nose and would have had no problem finding the place. The entire block was filled with a sweet smelling sugary aroma that was so enticing she didn't notice the musky scent of another wolf until it was too late.
Two huge hands grabbed her, pulling her sideways into an alleyway that was darkened by shadows and a dead-end brick wall. One hand held her still, pinning her to the wall whilst the other clamped over her mouth to stop her from calling out. Emma's back hit the rough brickwork with a thud, the air leaving her lungs on a squeal into the wolves hand that smelled salty and weathered against her face, her eyes pinched closed as she waited for an attack that never came.
"Shh, Emma, it's me," the wolf whispered, his body leaning into hers as he cast a quick glance to the sidewalk in case anyone had noticed him grab her. Emma recognised the voice instantly, the dulcet Irish twinge behind his words easily distinguishable from any accent she had ever heard. She peeled her eyes open and shook his hand from her face, huffing a little as she pushed against his weight.
"Graham," Emma spat, her anger immediately evident. "I knew it was only a matter of time before you found me," she groaned, straightening up the oversized hoodie she was wearing.
"I'm not here to hurt you," Graham assured her softly, taking a step back. "Or Killian," he added nervously. Emma's eyes widened and the hues darkened a little with her rage.
"How do you…" she began suspiciously, but Graham stopped her.
"I've been following you all week," he admitted. "Your father sent me to bring you home."
"I'm not going home," Emma said defiantly, shifting her weight onto one hip and crossing her arms over her chest. "You can tell my father that. And stay away from Killian, he's done nothing wrong."
"Emma, this is serious," Graham pleaded. "Your father gave me strict instructions to bring you home and to kill the wolf you were cavorting with." Emma stared at him for a second, the muscle in her jaw twitching and her lip curling into a snarl. "He is very angry."
"Of course he is," Emma snarled, whipping her hair over her shoulder. In the tussle, it had come loose and was now a knotty mess of unbrushed blonde tendrils covering her shoulders. "His little princess has her own mind and he doesn't like it, but Killian doesn't even know who I am, so leave him out of this."
"Emma, please," Graham implored, rolling his eyes. Emma was stubborn, just like her mother, and sometimes he was irritated by her younger sibling act as much as she was annoyed by the way he acted like her big brother. "I'm not trying to argue here…"
"Good. Conversation over," Emma snapped, heading back towards the entrance to the alleyway.
"Wait!" Graham lunged out and grabbed her elbow, quickly pulling her to a halt. "This isn't about you," he quipped angrily, grinding his teeth together. "God, you are still so…"
"Don't say it," Emma warned him, pointing a menacing finger in his direction. He used to call her selfish all the time as pups because Emma was raised with a sense of entitlement that she hadn't realised was unbecoming until her wolf day, and Graham had never let her forget how much of a princess she had acted. She hated him for it, because even though they had matured, he had never outgrown his jibe. "I can kick your ass now. I'm not a little pup anymore. You can't bully me and you most certainly cannot convince me to return to Misthaven."
When they were pups, Graham had taken it upon himself to torment Emma with his larger than average size and strength, defeating her in every game they played. It didn't help that David regularly pitted them against each other in practice bouts until Emma finally worked out how to outsmart him, using her cunning skills to defeat him, despite his size. In a way, it had made her an impressive fighter, but it was at the cost of her ego that Graham had relentlessly crushed each and every time she was beat.
"Just listen to me, will you?" Graham snapped, clenching his fist in frustration. "Do you want to hear what I have to say, or not?"
Emma studied his expression, the fatigue etched across his features. Dark grey half circles sat under each of his eyes, the crows feet at their corners making him look much older than she knew he was. Tiny white hairs had sprouted from his browline and peppered his sideburns, the rugged growth on his chin unkempt and messier than usual. It had been a while since Emma had simply looked upon the wolf she loved as a brother, but something was clearly weighing heavy on his mind and manifesting itself in his weary appearance.
She relaxed a little, letting out a heavy sigh when he looked at her with pleading eyes. "I'm listening."
"Good," Graham exhaled with relief. "I need your help."
The diner was surprisingly crowded for the early hours, and Emma suspected it was because of the delectable pastries. There was a long queue, so Graham had offered to grab them coffees and breakfast whilst Emma took a seat. She had calmed down somewhat after realising Graham wasn't here to exact her father's orders, and when he had asked for her help, she was a little concerned.
Graham was a beta. He didn't need help, and she was sure the last person he would need it from was her. She was nobody, not yet, not until they were married. If they were married, which if Emma had anything to say about it, would be never. Her connection with Killian was so intrinsic, she couldn't imagine herself with anyone else, and if that meant she had to die to fight for her freedom to marry for love, she would.
The clatter of plates made her jump suddenly, and everyone in the diner looked to the bar area where a waitress had dropped a whole stack. As she hurried off, red faced and embarrassed beyond comprehension, Emma noted the other seated diners as they resumed their activities. There were four other people in the diner that morning, eating in - two men and two women - and Emma made a mental note of them and their physical attributes just in case there was any trouble.
Two of the men were dining together, suited and booted and both chatting into an earpiece whilst ignoring their company. There was a blonde haired woman typing away on a laptop, huffing at herself as she slammed her finger down on the delete key time and time again. The other woman was seated at the back of the restaurant, with long, dark hair and a pale complexion, unable to hide the glow emanating from her skin. She was smiling to herself, reading a thick paged magazine that lay out before her, and Emma noticed the faintest hint of increased hormones in her scent. If she didn't already know, the woman was pregnant, but maybe that's why she was smiling so broadly.
"I got you one of those disgustingly sweet pastries you like so much," Graham announced, interrupting her from people-watching. He placed the small round white plate in front of her, the still warm bear claw almost making her drool.
"Thank you," Emma said with a tight lipped smile, taking the mug of steaming coffee out of his hands so he could sit opposite her at the small square table. The whole restaurant looked more like somebody's house, the casual placement of a few well worn couches and a bookshelf near a disused open fire making it seem more homely.
Graham fidgeted in his seat, tugging at his shirt like it had twisted out of place, and shuffling his chair under the table even more. Emma watched him with a narrowed gaze, confused by his actions that were decidedly more human. "Are you okay?" She asked gently. "You're acting weird."
"Am I?" Graham asked nervously, his voice an octave higher than before.
"Yes," Emma affirmed calmly. "Very weird."
Graham cleared his throat, finally content with the position he had found most comfortable, and he covered his face with both of his hands. It was like he was trying to find the courage she knew he already had to tell her something, so she knew it had to be serious. Graham was nervous, but she could smell something other than fear on him - she just didn't know what it was.
"You said you needed my help," Emma prompted, trying to break the tension between them. She reached for the small bowl of sugar cubes in the center of the table and grabbed one, letting it fall into the blackness of her coffee with a plop.
"Yes," Graham agreed with a nod before pausing. His short answer confused Emma, and she gave him a twisted look.
"Graham, will you quit acting so human and just tell me what's going on?" Emma told him firmly. "I've never seen you so rattled," she noted, lifting her mug to her lips and taking a sip of the acrid liquid inside. She winced at the taste, returning the porcelain to the table and reaching for a creamer in a second ramekin. She didn't normally take cream, but the coffee was a little too strong without its sweetness.
"Okay," Graham blurted, shuffling forward even more and leaning forward on his elbows. He beckoned her nearer with a crooked finger and Emma leaned towards him. "I can't marry you," Graham stated obviously and Emma fell back against her chair with a huff.
"I could have told you that," she sighed.
"No," Graham shook his head quickly. "I mean, I'm engaged to another."
Emma's bottom jaw dropped open and she almost knocked her coffee from the table, scandalized by his confession. "Who?" She demanded curtly, and before he even had time to respond, she gasped loudly with realisation. "My father doesn't know, does he?"
Graham looked at her with a darkened stare. "You think I would still be alive if he did?"
Emma gave him a knowing look. "So, who is it?" Emma demanded a second time, swiping her mug up and taking another gulp of coffee. "Which pack?" She smacked her lips together, wiping them with the back of her hand.
"She doesn't belong to any pack," Graham shrugged, casting a sideways glance to a man who brushed past them a bit closer than he would have liked. Emma matched his shrug and arched her back against the chair, the wooden legs creaking a little.
"A loner?" Emma asked nonchalantly. "I get that appeal," she smirked, recalling the small smile on Killian's face as he had slumbered beside her the night before.
Loners were pureblood wolves who had no pack and were usually ignored by others. They were often without a pack because of upheaval or conflict that had meant the end of any community they had known. Being a loner was a choice, not a punishment, and as such, they were permitted to interact with other purebloods freely. The Chronicle was indifferent to lone wolves, and in more recent times it had become acceptable that they join an established pack through marriage. The only aspect of interaction frowned upon was illegitimate children, which would result in exile for both parents.
Graham lowered his head and looked up at her sheepishly. "Not exactly. She's human."
Emma kicked the underside of the table as she jumped, half in shock and half in disbelief. She ignored the pain throbbing through her knee, eyes fixed on Graham's for any sign that he was joking. He had to be. The beta of Misthaven was a force, one of the strongest wolves she knew. He was honest, dedicated and loyal to his pack and werewolf lore. He was not engaged to a human, was he?
"I don't know what to say," Emma swallowed, her face pale with shock. "I mean..." she stuttered, exhaling hard, her brow furrowing with thought.
"I know this is a lot to take in," Graham whispered across the table when a few of the people in the nearby queue turned to look at what had caused the echoing bang of bone against wood.
"How long?" Emma asked eagerly. "How long have you...you know?" She made a weird gesture with her hands, not entirely sure what it was herself. There were no anatomical differences between wolves in human form and humans, so Emma attributed her odd behaviour to shock. Yeah, that was it. She was still in shock. Graham quirked an eyebrow.
"Going on three years." He hadn't even finished his sentence before he winced in anticipation of Emma's reaction.
"THREE!" She almost yelled and the entire diner paused and looked in her direction. Graham grabbed her arm, holding her down when she attempted to leap to her feet, a strange child-like chuckle escaping her lips at this new found information. "How? I mean, bravo for pulling it off," she laughed, grinning broadly. "Really, I had no idea, and you're still breathing so obviously my father doesn't either…"
"And he never can," Graham interrupted her rant, gripping her arm tighter and catching her gaze. His face was stoney, a real sense of panic plastered across his features that sobered Emma instantly. She calmed, her smile fading.
"There is more isn't there?" Emma asked him coolly.
Graham released her arm, sitting back in the chair that groaned under his hefty weight. He licked his lips nervously, running a hand through his hair slowly as if he were signaling someone with a secret gesture.
Out of the corner of her eye, Emma watched as the lady with long, dark brown hair got to her feet, a very visible bump on display now that she was on her feet. She gathered up her things, tucking the magazine into her satchel and pushing her chair back under the table. The sound of wood on wood vibrated through the diner and Graham turned red, his face blushing and the scent of his sweat invading Emma's nostrils. He didn't say anything else, and Emma simply watched him squirm with a confused expression.
That was until the pregnant lady appeared at his side, bag slung loosely over one shoulder and gripped by one hand, drawing Emma's attention. She watched in fascination as the woman's other hand snaked its way over Graham's shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her slender figure. He planted his hand firmly on the outside of her heavily pregnant belly, fingers splayed protectively over the unborn child, as he looked back to meet Emma's wide eyes.
"Emma, this is Ruby," he murmured, the pregnant brunette placing her hand over his on her stomach.
"Hi," Ruby smiled brightly, which confused Emma even more. Did she know what she was? "Nice to finally meet you."