Page 18 of Love, Clumsily
“You’re going to smell like me and sex all night,” he said with obvious satisfaction as he worked shampoo into my hair. “Everyone will know you’re mine.”
“Is that a werewolf thing? The possessiveness?”
“Partly,” he admitted, rinsing the suds from my hair. “But mostly it’s a Mason-in-love-with-Julian thing.”
My heart swelled at the casual declaration. “I love you too, you know,” I said, turning to face him. “Even when you’re being a possessive furball.”
His smile was soft and human despite the inhuman eyes and teeth. “I know. And I’m the luckiest wolf in the world because of it.”
Chapter 8
After we’d dried off and dressed in comfortable clothes suitable for a night outdoors, Mason led me back downstairs. The house was mostly empty now, with just a few people still inside, obviously waiting for the last possible moment before shifting.
“Almost time,” Robert said, approaching us. His eyes were fully gold now, like Mason’s, and there was a barely contained energy in his movements. “You two heading down to the main clearing?”
Mason nodded. “I thought Julian might be more comfortable there for his first full moon, rather than in the deep woods.”
“Good thinking,” Robert agreed. He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. First full moon with the pack is always overwhelming, but you’ll do fine. Just stay close to Mason, and remember—no matter how we look, we’re still ourselves in there. Just… more.”
With that cryptic advice, he headed outside, already pulling his shirt over his head as he went.
“Is he going to—” I started.
“Shift outside? Yes,” Mason confirmed. “Dad’s old-school. Thinks it’s unnatural to shift indoors.”
“So how does this work? Do you all just… get naked in front of each other and turn into wolves?”
Mason laughed. “Pretty much. Pack doesn’t have the same nudity taboos as humans. When you shift forms regularly, you get used to being naked around each other.” He saw myexpression and added quickly, “But I’ll shift in private this first time, if it makes you more comfortable.”
I appreciated his consideration, but I also didn’t want to start my integration into pack life by being the prudish human. “No, it’s okay. I want the full experience. Just… warn me if I’m about to commit some terrible werewolf faux pas.”
He smiled, kissing me softly. “You’ll be fine. Just be yourself—that’s who they want to get to know.”
We made our way outside, where the sky had darkened to deep blue, the first stars appearing overhead. The air was crisp and cool, carrying the scents of pine and woodsmoke. A large bonfire was already burning in a clearing about fifty yards from the main house, surrounded by logs arranged as seating.
Several people were gathered there, some already stripped down to bare skin, others in various states of undress. I tried not to stare, but it was hard not to notice the casual way they disrobed, completely unselfconscious about their nudity.
Mason led me to a log near the fire and gestured for me to sit. “The moon will rise any minute now,” he said, his voice tense with anticipation. He began to undress, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside.
I watched, mesmerized, as he stripped down to nothing, his body magnificent in the firelight. All around us, others were doing the same, the clearing filling with naked bodies of all shapes and sizes.
And then I felt it—a shift in the atmosphere, a collective intake of breath. I looked up to see the full moon rising above the treeline, huge and luminous.
The effect on the werewolves was immediate and dramatic. A shudder ran through Mason’s body, his back arching. Around the clearing, others were reacting similarly, some dropping to all fours, others throwing their heads back in silent anticipation.
“Julian,” Mason said, his voice strained, “I’m going to shift now. Don’t be afraid.”
I nodded, unable to speak, my eyes fixed on him as the transformation began.
It was both beautiful and terrifying to witness. His body seemed to ripple, bones shifting beneath his skin. Dark hair—fur—spread rapidly across his chest, his arms, his legs. His face elongated, features rearranging themselves into something canine yet still recognizably Mason. His hands curled into paws, nails extending into claws.
The whole process took less than a minute, and where my boyfriend had stood, there was now an enormous black wolf with familiar amber-gold eyes. He was magnificent—powerful muscles visible beneath the thick fur, shoulders standing higher than my waist even on all fours.
All around the clearing, similar transformations had occurred. Where there had been naked humans, there were now wolves of various colors and sizes—some nearly as large as Mason, others more modestly proportioned.
I sat frozen, overwhelmed by the spectacle, until Mason-wolf approached me, head lowered slightly. Instinctively, I reached out, and he pushed his muzzle into my palm, his fur softer than I’d imagined.
“Hi,” I said softly, feeling slightly ridiculous talking to a wolf but unable to stop myself. “You’re beautiful like this.”
