Chapter 3

BRATT.

About an hour later, Travis was fully briefed, my son was fed and snugly buckled into his car seat in the back of the Jeep, and we were on our way to Polar Shift Academy. Smiling, I watched Noah wiggling to The Beatles in the rearview mirror as I drove.

I couldn’t believe how fast time had flown. It felt like only yesterday that I was cradling him, worried I’d break him because he was so fragile and tiny. Now he was starting his first day of kindergarten, learning to have his own interests and dreams.

He truly had become a little person before my eyes.

I fought back the lump in my throat as we made our way through town and pulled up to the state-of-the-art academy. The place was a source of pride for me, seeing as I’d had a hand in some of the plans and hiring to build such a progressive and advanced school.

My business, Fur Sure Solutions, specialized in shifter-friendly construction projects. We’d done everything from shifter parks and clubs to houses, apartment complexes, and Polar Shift Academy. I hoped that the school would be helpful in setting a precedent of fully integrated schools all across the country, but even five years after its conception, a lot of places were still fighting that idea tooth and nail—no pun intended.

It was rewarding to finally be in the position to place my son in school here, and I reflected on that as I helped get him out of his car seat.

I took his hand as we walked in the steel-and-glass front door. Parents were allowed to come in early on this particular day, what with a bunch of children starting school for the very first time. And besides wanting to give Noah a solid start to his first day, I had friends I wanted to see.

The foyer was one of the rooms I designed and sourced materials for. It was all stainless steel, reinforced glass, and warm wood with an open floor plan. A moving model of the solar system, nestled in a dome-shaped skylight, rotated slowly above our heads. I pointed it out to Noah.

“Kiddo, take a look at that. Do you know what that is?”

“The planets!” he said, delighted to know the answer to the question.

“That’s right! Look at how the world is spinning around that big yellow one. That’s the sun. Did you know it was that big?”

“Whoa!”

“I thought I heard a familiar pup,” a friendly voice said behind us.

I turned to see Lana Gold, assistant vice principal of the school and a long-time friend since before we started the POSHA project together. I swore the woman didn’t age—she still looked the same as when I met her years ago: cornsilk hair cut into a classy bob, pencil skirt, ironed blouse, and tasteful blazer.

“Hey, Lana,” I said, pulling her into a one-armed hug. Noah glanced between us, face pulled into a frown.

“I haven’t seen you since you were just about to turn three!” Lana said, backing from me to ruffle Noah’s hair. “I bet you don’t remember me, huh?”

Noah shook his head.

“Well, not to worry, we’ll become good friends in no time,” she promised. She looked at me. “Did you want to come and meet our new kindergarten teacher before you head out?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” I said, nodding toward the door that led out to the playground. “Lead the way.”

Noah and I followed Lana out the side door. A young woman stood in the middle of a sea of five-year-olds who were all running, playing, and screaming. Her hair hung in loose curls to about the center of her back. She was dressed in a nice floral blouse and a pair of fitted black capris, her small feet contained in tasteful, practical flats.

Noah was practically vibrating at my side; I could tell he wanted to join the chaos. Indulging him, I released his hand to let him join in on the fun with the other kids.

Just as I was about to ask Lana about the new teacher, she got hailed on a walkie she had holstered to her hip.

“Copy, Miss Gold, do you copy?”

“I’m here,” she said into the walkie. “What’s up.”

“We have a vomit situation in classroom ten. Can you come and help?”

Lana looked at me, pressing her lips together and sighing. “Duty calls,” she said. “If I call you at the end of the day half-drunk, remind me that I love my job.”

Laughing, I gave her another quick hug. “You got it,” I promised. “Best of luck. I’ll see you later if you’re around when I come to get Noah.”

“Yeah, see you later.”

As Lana went back into the building, I stepped off to stand next to another parent. I stood next to the only other man there, a slight human fellow who looked up at me a little nervously. I gave him a closed-mouth smile, doing my best not to come off threatening. One thing I’d learned to do since lycans came out of the clawset was to be as unimposing as possible.

We all learned not to show our teeth, not to let our tempers get the best of us, and to be as close to human as we could manage. Even here at a progressive school, I needed to keep that in mind. It was one thing to see lycan pups play with human kids and support the unity in that idea—it was another thing entirely to stand next to a man who was genetically coded to be stronger, faster, and more ferocious.

Amused, I watched the poor new teacher checking her watch and trying to wrangle all the children together—class was set to start soon. I caught her scent on the wind. Human. She would definitely have her hands full at this school. There was something familiar about her scent, but I couldn’t put a finger on it.

At least I couldn’t until she turned to greet my son as he rammed head-first right into her legs.

My heart stuttered, and an animalistic hunger—fleeting but there—zipped through me from head to toe. It was the perfect girl from earlier that morning, the one who’d careened into me like a freight train and threw my whole morning for a loop.

She’s my son’s teacher?

Sometimes the world was just too damned small.

I watched as the poor girl looked around the rest of the playground, seeing her face fall as she realized most of the other teachers were getting their kids under control. A moment later, she put her thumb and finger in her mouth and whistled.

Every single shifter kid in a ten-foot radius whipped their head to look at her, but the human children kept doing whatever they were doing.

“Did you hear that?” I asked the father standing next to me.

“Hear what?” he said nervously, pushing up his glasses.

I shook my head in answer and crossed my arms over my chest.

Maybe she was a bit of a klutz, but she knew shifter kids, that was for sure. Something warmed in my chest at that.

Olivia could never quite keep up with Noah, even when he was a baby. I couldn’t even count the number of times I had to take over caring for him because she had a meltdown. I could tell that the woman—Miss Cage, if I remembered the paperwork right—was overwhelmed but generally patient and understanding. It seemed like she just knew how to handle shifters, even though she wasn’t one herself.

I decided to throw her a bit of a bone and stuck my fingers in my mouth the same way she had just a few moments ago, then gave a much louder whistle.

That one caught the attention of the human children and made the shifter kids wince and cover their ears. At the same time, Miss Cage’s head whipped to look in my direction. Recognition bloomed on her face, and I was surprised at my satisfaction when I saw her face light up.

That look stoked a fire deep in my belly, a desire I hadn’t felt in a long time.

She gathered all the children and talked to another adult—a brunette in a simple sundress of pale blue. The brunette nodded and started to lead the children toward the classroom. Many of the children looked somewhat confused but followed her anyway. The only exception was Noah, who suddenly seemed to realize that he would be separated from me and, in a panic, ran back to my side, hiding behind my leg.

Miss Cage looked at Noah and then at me.

I gave her an apologetic smile as I patted Noah’s head.

“Go on, buddy. It’s time for you to start your first day of school,” I said, patting his back to encourage him toward her.

His fingers curled into my jeans, and he pressed his face into my leg.

“No more school. School’s over,” he said, his voice muffled against my jeans.

“Kiddo,” I said, trying to kneel to his level.

He interpreted it as me trying to break away and upped his game. He wrapped his arms and legs around me. I tried to pry him off, tried to move, but somehow, I’d been rendered entirely immobile by a five-year-old.

“Buddy. Noah. Come on.”

His teacher hesitated for a moment, then looked over her shoulder to watch the assistant taking the children inside. Once satisfied that it was going well, she walked toward me.

I couldn’t decide if I was grateful or embarrassed.