Page 22 of Love, Clumsily
It was all so… normal. Sitting there, surrounded by werewolves discussing kitchen backsplashes and basketball scores, I was struck by the strange duality of their lives—extraordinary beings living ordinary lives, navigating the same daily concerns as anyone else.
“Mason? Julian? Anything to share?” Robert’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.
Mason looked at me, a silent question in his eyes. We hadn’t discussed sharing anything today, but there was something we’d been talking about privately.
“Actually, yes,” I said, surprising myself with my boldness. “We’ve been talking about me moving to Mason’s cabin permanently. My lease is up next month, and it seems silly to keep two places when I spend most of my time at his anyway.”
Mason’s hand found mine, squeezing gently in support. We’d been discussing this step for weeks, but I hadn’t planned to announce it today.
“That’s wonderful news,” Evelyn said warmly. “The cabin has always seemed too big for just Mason.”
“That’s because it was built for a family,” Robert said, giving us a significant look that made me blush.
“One step at a time, Dad,” Mason said, rolling his eyes, but I could tell he was pleased by his father’s implicit approval.
“Moving in together is a big step,” Riley observed. “You sure you’re ready to deal with his snoring full-time, Julian?”
“I don’t snore!” Mason protested.
“You absolutely do,” I confirmed, grinning at his betrayed expression. “But I’ve gotten used to it. I even find it kind of soothing now, like white noise but… growlier.”
The pack laughed, and Mason nudged me with his shoulder, trying to look annoyed but failing to hide his smile.
The meeting continued, with more updates and discussions. Some were mundane—complaints about a neighbor’s landscaping choices, debates about which streaming services were worth keeping. Others were more unique to werewolf life—concerns about a new housing development encroaching on their full moon running grounds, strategies for managing shifting urges during stressful work situations.
Throughout it all, I was struck by how included I felt. Questions were directed to me, my opinions sought, my presence acknowledged not as Mason’s appendage but as a pack member in my own right.
After about an hour, the formal part of the meeting seemed to wind down, breaking into smaller conversations and activities. Some pack members moved to the kitchen for second (or third) helpings, while others stepped outside to enjoy the spring sunshine.
I found myself in the kitchen helping Evelyn clean up, a task I’d volunteered for partly out of politeness and partly because I genuinely enjoyed her company. She had a calm, nurturing presence that reminded me of what I wished my own mother had been like.
“So,” she said as we loaded the dishwasher, “how are you really adjusting to all this? The pack, the werewolf life, my son?”
I considered my answer carefully. “It’s been… an adjustment. But a good one. Mason makes it easy, and everyone has been so welcoming.”
She smiled, passing me a plate to rinse. “You’ve been good for him, you know. I’ve never seen him so centered, so at peace with both sides of himself.”
“He’s been good for me too,” I admitted. “Before Mason, I was just… existing. Going through the motions. Now I feel like I’m actually living.”
“That’s what finding your mate should feel like,” she said, giving my arm a gentle squeeze. “Like finding a piece of yourself you didn’t know was missing.”
I nodded, unable to articulate how perfectly that described my feelings for Mason. Instead, I asked something that had been on my mind. “Can I ask you something personal?”
“Of course, dear.”
“What was it like for you? Being human and falling in love with a werewolf? Did you ever consider…” I trailed off, not quite sure how to phrase the question.
“Taking the bite?” she finished for me, her expression knowing. “I did more than consider it. I became a werewolf three years after Robert and I married.”
I nearly dropped the mug I was rinsing. “You’re not a born wolf? But I thought—”
“That I’d always been like this?” She laughed softly. “No, I was as human as you when I met Robert. Fell in love with him, married him, had Riley, all as a human. It wasn’t until we decided we wanted a second child that I chose to take the bite.”
“Why then?” I asked, fascinated by this revelation.
She finished loading a pan into the dishwasher before answering. “Pregnancy between a human and a werewolf is… complicated. Riley’s birth was difficult—dangerous for both of us. The doctors weren’t sure I’d survive another. But werewolf women have stronger bodies, better able to carry wolf-blooded children.”
“So you became a werewolf for Mason,” I said, the pieces clicking into place.
