Moss climbed higher than Georgie or Cove or even Casey had ever managed, turning bark and branch furry. Its transformation never complete in all the years they had hiked past and said hello to the tallest tree in Ivy Paw’s forest. It was hard to say if it had grown as they had over their decade of parades laden with camp supplies. To them, it had always been the biggest thing they had ever seen. It still was. Passing it this time, though, would finally change that. With Casey over the hurdle between teen and adult, they could venture as far as they liked now. Now, they would make it to the mountains of Borderwatch. The outposts the peaks were named for still stood, only they were unmanned since the last war ended long before Georgie or even her parents were born. On the other side was Wild Mew. Maybe when Casey or Cove had become alpha, they would visit the neighbouring pack, too. There was still so much beyond their own territory to see.

Rumours remained of mountain clans wedged into cracks and ravines, lying in wait for unsuspecting prey. The chilly air rushing through passes could be mistaken for the shiver-inducing sensation of eyes upon you, so they’d heard. Wild Mew denied the claims. Ivy Paw had seen no merit in them to say either way.

Tomorrow, Georgie and Casey would experience it for themselves.

Today, they would walk most of the way and set up camp. Georgie was on two feet, Casey on four. An icebox of treats swung from his maw. The fantasy of her mate catching and preparing every morsel that passed her lips long lost its thrill when a craving for hot chocolate or an ice lolly occurred. Most precious of all, to Georgie, were the glass bottles of milk for her tea. Each only held two Georgie-sized-servings, and the more nights they intended to stay, the more Casey had to carry. And Cove, too, once.

They had given up inviting him on their trips. It had never even been a question before mate maturity that he would accompany them. Then the post-birthday pull-away had finally worn Georgie down in terms of how much rejection she could take. He never looked particularly pleased to see her these days, and yet somehow he managed to appear especially pissed off when Casey would announce another camp they had planned. When they left he would glare at Georgie as though she were betraying him. As though she hadn’t asked him dozens of times to join in over those first few months after mate maturity and he had shot her down every time. As though she were a fool for thinking of him.

Georgie sniffed deep and shut her eyes for a moment, letting muscle memory lead her. The nostalgia that came with the scent of pine needles and alpha warmed her from the inside out. It was her happy place even when she missed her old friend.

Casey wasn’t as playful when he had no double to halve his pack load with. His paw placement was careful, his steps measured. Georgie plodded at his side in her hiking boots with backpack swinging a little. Summer was swiftly leaving them and a few leaves had already fallen for her to step on, hoping for a satisfying crunch. Casey outstretched a leg to catch one too and made a disappointed whining sound when it was soggy instead of crisp. Georgie giggled quietly and ran ahead to find him a fat, curled one to stomp beneath his furry foot.

The trail wound through the forest in a round-about way that didn’t get you from one side to the other as quickly as a straight run. It was the best route to tour the beauty of their home, though. With a few days to walk its entirety you’d find every colour of the rainbow in the trees, bushes and flowers; every texture in the streams and muddy banks and burrows; every sound and scent your ears and nose could hold sailing the air like waves.

There were a number of spots along the trail where Georgie and the twins had buried treasures. Safely hidden until the next time they chose that stopping point. They’d traversed and mapped most of Ivy Paw’s lands, they knew where was best to rest.

Kayaks kept under the roots of a tree rising from the earth needed only a sluice to be paddle-ready again. While Casey took mallet to tent pegs, Georgie took paddle to lake. She followed the shoreline, Casey’s gaze followed Georgie.

She cut the water in slow strokes, exaggerating the movement to give her the opportunity to peek back at him. Her lovely, lumbering alpha who watched her back with a yearning she wouldn’t understand until her twenty-first birthday. Of course, he was handsome and his muscles could be traced like the ridges of veined stones and he had the personality of a well-meaning puppy… Until mate maturity, though, that call from inside of her would not ignite like the roaring flame he carried around. He looked at her with so much adoration sometimes it unnerved her. That would be her soon, googly-eyeing Casey like he hung the sun in the sky. And she already thought he was just the loveliest boy- man to walk the land.

Even from her spot floating out on the water she caught the wink and lip-lick directed at her. When she dropped her chin, blushing, the pendant of her necklace dug into it. His birthday gift to her. It caught the sun and refracted all the colours of the rainbow into her kayak seat.

Their tent was upright, a fire pit dug, and Casey had covered his behind with shorts. He monitored their ancient tin teapot propped over a low flame like it might grow legs and run away at any moment. A scene that beckoned her back to the shore.

Georgie found herself fancying something fruity, sweet, maybe a little sour… And a hunky chunk of Casey, too. They had tarts baked by Adele with a blackberry filling from berries picked by Georgie herself. She unpacked them from the top of the icebox as soon as she was back on land. Casey fluttered around her, reaching for opportunities to graze her skin with his own or tasks to take off her hands. Georgie shook her head and turned into him.

“I didn’t lose my competence when you became my mate, you know,” she teased, head-bumping his chest lightly. The day he turned twenty-one he’d started fawning over her like they were little again. Back when she had far more catching up to do. The twins hit six feet when they were twelve. She was no omega and it had still taken Georgie till her teens to reach five feet. She’d scored herself a little extra since. Emphasis on little.

His hands drew up from the ice box to cradle the small of her back. “I think it’s more like I lost the willpower to stop interfering when I want to help you,” he admitted on a rumbling murmur.

“So, you’ve always wanted to be a nuisance?” She let her weight lean forward onto her toes, then into him.

“To you?” His smile was lopsided and lovely. “Yes.”

Hissing rang out behind them. The teapot protesting their wandering attention. Casey took on the bubbling water and Georgie brought over the milk and sugar and treats. Extra milky for her and extra sugary for Casey. A tart each, wrapped in napkins. She’d packed a third without thinking, she left it in the container.

Milky tea cupped under blanket-covered hands, her soon-to-be-mate tending the fire from under her, the babble of the lake beneath the stir of the wind. Georgie’s eyes slid shut and she hummed happily. This was where she belonged.

“Thank you for the teacup,” she whispered into the steam swirling from it.

“Birthday gifts aren’t too human for you?”

Georgie looked out at the lake. “The humans get it right sometimes.”

He curved his shoulders forward and dropped his chin to the top of her head, pretending to rest it there although she knew it was much heavier than what was pressed to her crown. “Any other traditions you want to steal?”

“Big plans for when you take over?” she giggled up at him.

“I’m open to suggestions.”

She thought for a moment. Indulged in a sip of tea. “I like the way Christmas looks…”

“You just like the idea of a fir tree inside the house.”

“And presents!”

He slid his face down the side of hers, nuzzling her cheek. “What presents would you like?”

“A kiss would be a good star-”

His mouth cut hers off.

It was a warm kiss with gentle movements of his lips against hers that had Georgie convinced she could stay joined to his face for hours. Like a massage for her mouth. He kissed her with all his care and protection rolled into his tongue. Georgie blindly put aside her teacup and turned in his lap until she straddled him and felt a familiar friend digging into her front.

It was cruel to work him up, especially when he had managed so well the last six months to restrain himself. Having his mate within reach at all times and being unable to mate with her must be torture. They could do a lot of things, though. Like kissing. Like cuddling. Like when he sucked on her nipples until she felt the pounding of her heart between her legs. That was the area off-limits. No private part playing until she turned twenty-one. Not even his.

Casey snagged her waist and lifted her from him. “Sorry, I need to go deal with this.” He placed her onto the ground on her knees and hobbled away.

“Don’t do it near any of the bushes we get berries from,” she reminded him with a wicked grin. She did feel for him, honest, but it was still so fun to tease. Teacup back in her hands, she enjoyed the last sips while it was still warm.

―

The sun would not settle for a few more hours. Casey suggested a run through the forest, Georgie negotiated that he run and she potter about in his footprints collecting scraps for her journal. Another kiss that almost toppled her over and they found themselves with an agreement.

In an effort to preserve Georgie’s recently developed sensitivity to his nakedness, Casey threw his clothes off and shot into the forest on all fours all in one fluid movement. They had gallivanted about the wilderness nude all through their childhood. Then puberty came along and they all got a tad more shy. Then mate maturity had hit and now Georgie violently snatched her gaze away when she might accidentally see something below the belt. It was the rules.

In his wake were deep paw prints pressed into the mud, Georgie stepped alongside them, her journal tucked to her elbow. She would gather pretty leaves and interestingly-shaped twigs and perfectly shiny acorns and fallen petals to preserve in the latest of many notebooks. She had a crayon for taking rubbings of any unique patterns she noticed in the bark or the rocks. Although their camp spots were familiar, cycled between for years upon years, she still found new wonders to document every time.

Crouched amongst sunset-coloured leaves she sketched the ground with a stubby pencil and hoped she could remember the hues later. She would steal one to stick in but they were too soggy… By the time she had filled the page with cautious lines and re-attempts that shadowed them Casey had to have looped her.

As she picked her way between craggy stones he shot past her again, this time with a bundle in his mouth. His clothes, she could presume. Georgie continued on following his tracks, she would make it round the trail he had created eventually. There was no rush where there were no clocks.

In the distance she spotted a burst of white hair instead of a whole wolf’s worth. He had stopped and shifted, then. Georgie didn’t hurry, but she kept her eyes on him as she approached, should he take off again.

Casey was meditative sat out on a damp tree stump. Post-run he had only gotten as far as pulling his shorts back on before being captured by whatever deep and complex thought held him now. His other garments lay crumpled around the dead roots, almost entirely unburied.

“I can’t read you at all right now.” And he had always been an open book to Georgie.

Casey started. As soon as his pear-green eyes settled on her his dopey smile returned. “I was just thinking.”

“I noticed. Don’t make it a habit now.” She climbed into his lap, avoiding all the miry bark.

“Does it ever…” His smile faltered, fluttering, the book momentarily closing again, and he looked out into the trees again.

“Tell me.”

“Sometimes I think about how I’ll never be as happy back home as I am out here with you.”

A familiar melancholy struck her. It was a thought she had struggled with herself.

Before she could find the words to comfort him, he whispered, “And if it weren’t for me you could be out here forever.”

“Don’t say that-”

“If I wasn’t an alpha or you weren’t my ma-”

“Casey!” Georgie scolded, snatching his cheeks and squishing his face between her palms. “Wherever you are is where I’m most happy.” She kissed the tip of his nose. Although autumn was almost here, he wasn’t chilly. “And having to go home makes you appreciate our little trips ten times more.”

“We spent all our summers out here and the novelty never wore off,” he argued with soft resignation.

“And don’t you feel so lucky for it?”

He looked her over, soaking her in. “Yeah.”

Georgie sighed with a smile. “Let’s have some dinner before those bedroom eyes get us in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” he asked. She was already retreating.

Behind a just-wide-enough tree she dropped her own shorts and tee and then laid her journal on top of them so that she could wrap it up in cloth protection. Then, she shifted onto all fours, embracing the fur that sprouted from her skin in dark brown tufts and honey splotches. She stuck her butt up in the air for a big stretch, wagging her tail and flapping her ears. After a happy sigh she collected up her things in one bite and found her footing for an immediate sprint, sending up swaths of woodland debris in the kicks of her paws.

A wolf of snow white swerved around her, playing with her puny pace. He was a beast now and she still felt a puppy compared to him. Georgie’s joints burned at the strenuous extension she forced with every stride, showing off all she had for her mate’s green gaze. He looped trees and ran literal circles around her. Maybe he was still a puppy on the inside. A growl slipped free when she fought to match him in the final straight stretch back to their camp. Perhaps… she had a little childish competitiveness in her still as well.

They skidded over their unanimous finishing line: a crack in the ground that paired trees either side. Casey let her win by the tip of her snout.