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Peter darted through the underbrush, following the fox’s scent. A slight rustle warned him just in time and he dodged to the side, the fox’s sneak attack narrowly missing. The fox leaped away, yipping in amusement, and Peter lunged after him. He wasn’t running all that hard, and Peter soon bowled the two of them over into a play-fight, tussling for a few minutes before the fox wiggled free again. It was getting to be that time, so Peter wasn’t really surprised when the fox gave a low, regretful whine. Peter responded with a bark and a quick nuzzle, and then the fox was off into the depths of the forest.
Heading home, Peter barely made it a dozen strides before Talia melted out of the trees. Damn it. He ignored her and she fell in next to him, the two of them trotting through the late afternoon forest. It might have been nice, if not for the questions Peter knew were coming.
Peter shifted in the house’s mudroom and pulled on a robe. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said.
“Peter,” Talia said, tying her own robe shut. “Did you think I’d be upset? I don’t care that he’s not a wolf, or that I didn’t find him for you, or that this could complicate future pack negotiations, or whatever else you came up with to convince yourself you had to keep him secret. I want you to be happy.”
“It’s not any of that,” Peter sighed. “He’s… he’s Cora’s age.”
Talia blinked. “Cora’s twenty.”
Peter looked away. “Exactly.”
Talia took Peter’s arm and turned him towards her. “Peter. Cora is twenty. I know you think of the younger pack members as needing protection—you’ve had a lot of practice at that—but she’s an adult now, not a child. So is that young man. Granted, his family will probably have concerns they wouldn’t have if you were closer to his age, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible, just complicated.”
Peter felt a moment of gratitude that Talia was his alpha. “You really think I could court him? Properly?”
“I really do.” Talia linked her arm with Peter’s and drew him into the house. “Now. Tell me all about this fox of yours.”