Page 78 of Shapeshifter

“There’s an old woman in the pack who might know,” she said. “She knew Vin.”

“Who?”

“Heddy.” Perdita flushed. “Her grandson is in jail.”

Realisation dawned on his face. “You trust her?”

“She’s a victim as much as any of us. I don’t know for sure if she can help, but she might. Either way, we should be learning from the older people in the pack. Even if they aren’t werewolves, they might know things we don’t. We need to make sure the next generation doesn’t forget what came before.”

“It’s still risky,” I said. “We don’t know enough. Margo’s talking like it’s normal, and everybody’s sitting there listening to her. Byron didn’t even say no!”

“See it from his point of view,” Perdita said. “He didn’t even have the opportunity to try to save his wife. They found out she was dying too late. What regret would you rather live with? Doing something and failing or doing nothing and never knowing if it was the right decision?”

My stomach turned, but her words hit me hard. “I’m scared. What if goes right, but she regrets it? What if we find another way, and it’s too late to change our minds?”

“Dorian,” she persisted. “It’s not your choice.”

I closed my eyes. I knew that all along. That was why I was freaking out. Everything was about to change, one way or another, but I had no control over it. “What if she changes? What if she’s not herself anymore? What if she sees what it’s like to be a wolf and despises me?”

“People are who they are on the inside,” Perdita said. “It doesn’t matter what form their outward appearance takes. Margo will always be Margo, no matter what. If we can save her, then won’t it be worth it, no matter the cost? She has saved us so many times that we owe her this.”

“If Byron is willing to accept her into the pack, and Margo wants to try, then we can’t stop her,” Nathan added. “You’re going to have to come to terms with that before you face her again. She needs your support right now.”

“What would you do?” I asked him.

He exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Perdita. “Perdita doesn’t want to be a wolf, Dorian.”

“If she was dying,” I said. “If it was the only way.”

He looked sickened. “It’s still her choice. I can’t make it for her. I have to listen to what she says.”

Perdita’s head was bowed. She had always been upfront about the fact she was happy to remain human.

“Perdita?” I asked. “If you were Margo, what would you do?”

She glanced at Diane. “If we want to live, we have to decide what we can live with. Margo loves the pack. I’ve watched her, and she craves that kind of warmth, that acceptance. She’s never had that before. She’s a protector, and she wants to survive this. I don’t blame her for wanting this. I don’t know what I would do, honestly, I don’t, but I completely understand her choice. And it has to be her choice. We’ll all have to live with the consequences, but she’s the only one who gets to decide if she’s willing to take this risk.”

“I don’t know how to live with this if it all goes wrong,” I said.

“Then think about if it goes right,” she said. “This isn’t the first time she’s thought of this. She wants this. She isn’t scared of it. This isn’t the last desperate choice for her. But think of yourself in the future. Will you see her differently if she’s a wolf?”

I tried to imagine it. I had always thought we matched because we were both a little bit different, a little outside of the norm. I wasn’t wolf enough; she wasn’t human enough. Now everything would change, and our dynamics might never wind back up in the same spot. I could lose her, but at least she would be alive. I could run alongside her in the woods, knowing she could defend herself. She wouldn’t need me.

Except she had always taken care of herself, even protected others. Margo didn’t need me to protect her or think for her or shield her from the world. She never had.

I snuck backinto Byron’s house and found Margo napping on the sofa in the living room. I sat on the floor next to her then gently touched her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open. She looked relieved to see me, and that made me feel guilty.

“Hey,” she whispered. “You came back.”

I pressed my forehead against hers for a second, then kissed the tip of her cold nose.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I freaked out when you needed me. I always told you I was a coward.”

“You’re not a coward. I’m sorry I sprung that on you without warning. I get everyone is shocked, I do, but I’m feeling impatient.” She looked concerned. “Are you okay?”

“It doesn’t matter about me.” I kissed the back of her hand. “Whatever you choose, no matter what, I’ll be there with you until the end. I want to help you.”

---