Page 30 of Rejected Bullied Mate

I clenched my jaw, forcing the guilt down once more. Now wasn’t the time for regrets.

“Kit,” I said, my voice softer now. “Don’t fight it. Just let it happen.”

He was trembling slightly, his breathing uneven, but then—then I felt it.

A shift in the air. The barest flicker of his energy surging toward something just beneath the surface. The feeling of a new pack member, right there on the precipice of joining the rest of us. I was almost choking with pride.

I pressed a hand to his shoulder, grounding him. “You’re right there, son. Just a little more.”

Kit let out a sharp exhale, his tiny body shuddering. For a second, I thought—damn.

Just as quickly as it had come, the energy slipped away. His eyes snapped open, wide and confused. “It’s stuck,” he blurted. “I can’t—” His little face crumpled in frustration.

I exhaled, keeping my grip on his shoulders so he didn't feel alone. “It’s okay. You’re doing good.”

Kit frowned, looking shockingly like his mother when she was annoyed. “I don’t feel good at it.”

I pulled Kit against me, pressing a steady hand to the back of his head. “Youaregood at it,” I told him. “And we’ll keep trying until it’s easy. I promise.”

His hands curled into my shirt, his body warm and trusting against mine when he leaned in for a hug. I couldn’t change the past; I couldn't go back in time and lead Kiera through her change, but I sure as hell could do better now.

There was another way, but it didn't give the pup a chance to slowly experience the first change, mitigating the pain of it. It was more forceful and usually reserved for when an Alpha needed to force a grown wolf into their other form for whatever reason, but I'd heard about it being used with stubborn pups, too.

It wasn't out of the question for Kit to need a few days to really find his change, but he sounded so heartbroken that I didn't want to make him wait. And if Kiera was going to find out that I was helping Kit with his shift, I needed to have something to show her. Otherwise, she'd be up my ass, demanding to be part of all of this that I wanted to keep between father and son.

So I did the only thing I could do to get Kit to relax—I squeezed him tight in a bear hug and held him. The weight of my son in my arms was more than enough to ease my tension, my thoughts, my aching chest.

"I have another idea," I told him as I slowly released him, "But it will hurt. The first few times always do, but this method can be rougher than normal."

Kit looked hopeful. "I don't care. I can take it."

I sighed. Fearlessandstubborn. He was obviously Kiera's son.

"You'll be exhausted down to the bone afterward," I added. "Shifting takes a lot out of you even as an adult, but it shocks a lot of pups when they can barely keep their eyes open when they're back in human form."

"I wanna try. I can do it, Papa. I can. I swear. Show me!"

I exhaled and closed my eyes, reaching deep inside myself into the place where my pack bonds lived. Some burned bright, others were faded at the edges, and Kiera's glowed so beautifully that it was almost painful to look at, but I ignored them all. Instead, I searched for a single thread, new and pale.

Then I saw it, soft and fragile, like a string of a spider's web. New, but still connected to me, to the pack. Kit's thread.

I latched onto it, pouring my power into it to strengthen it and solidify the connection between us. I should have done this a long time ago, when I first learned of his existence, but better late than never.

Kit sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers gripping my wrists as he felt it too.

"There you go," I praised, "Hold onto that, Kit, and don't let go."

Then, with the full force of my power as an Alpha, I started my shift—

And pulled Kit through it alongside me.

Bones cracked and stretched. My muscles tore and rebuilt, my body reshaping itself in the way it had done a thousand times before. It was as natural as easy as breathing for me.

But Kit—his body fought it. He gasped, his little frame trembling as the change tried to take hold. I felt his hesitation through our bond, the instinctual fear of something unnatural taking over.

It’s okay,I told him silently, pouring reassurance into the connection.I’ve got you.

Kit clenched his teeth, his tiny hands fisting in the fabric of my shirt as his own shift finally started. His cry of pain nearly shattered me. But I held firm, my wolf rumbling in approval as my son—my pup—began his first shift at last.

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