The night after the end of the war, Jo woke up in a bed with her male. They were both naked between soft sheets, and the silence in the luxurious room, in her body, was a relief.
“You okay?” Syn asked in a groggy way.
“I think so.” As his eyes popped open and it looked like he was about to run for a crash cart, she smiled. “I mean, yes, I am. It’s just a new me, you know?”
Stretching everything she had to stretch, she was relieved to find that the aches and pains that had racked her for the last twelve hours were abating. Her stomach was hungry, the chills were gone, and other than a pair of sharp-and-pointies where her canines had been—the pair she’d been born with had fallen out like baby teeth sometime during the day—not much was different.
She’d made it safely to the other side.
And she was with exactly who she wanted to be with.
On that note, they spent some time smiling at each other. She knew that there were big adjustments ahead. A new way of life, a new way of being, and she was nervous about it—but excited, too. In the intervening days since she’d learned of the transition, she’d had some time to preemptively consider the repercussions of being another species entirely, but that was nothing compared to the yup-it-actually-happened.
Two things calmed her, however. One, she had come through the change healthy. Thanks to Syn’s blood, she was alive and well.
And secondly? She had him. With Syn by her side, she knew she could handle anything life threw at her.
As if he knew she was thinking about the future, he said, “We can take it slow, if you want.”
“You mean . . . like, us?”
“Yes. I don’t want you to feel like you have to come live here with me—”
“Where are we?”
“The First Family’s mansion. With the Brotherhood and your brothers and my cousins and the other fighters . . . their families . . . and a lot of doggen, including Fritz, who you’ve met.”
Jo glanced around the beautifully appointed bedroom. Antiques. Silk wallpaper. Drapery that was like a ball gown.
“How big is this place?” she asked, because it was a simple question she’d be wondering about for a while now.
“I don’t know. Fifty rooms? Maybe more?”
Lifting her head, she blinked. “Wow. That makes the Early house seem like a cabin.”
“Your parents?”
As she nodded, she found herself frowning. “What do I do about them? Do I keep in touch? Can I?” She thought of Bill and Lydia. “And what about my friends out in the human world, not that I have many?”
“You can see them as much or as a little as you want. We’ll manage it. No one is going to isolate you.”
“Good. I don’t how much I’m going to want to . . . my parents are complicated. And I still don’t know who my birth mother is.”
“I’ll be there to help you look for her. Whatever you need, it’s yours.”
“So . . . about this bonded male thing.”
Syn stretched like a panther and then kissed her. “Nailed it.”
“You sure did.” Jo couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “And I would like to live with you here. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. But there has to be something I can do for work, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“Are you just going to say yes to me about everything?”
“Yes.” Syn winked. “I am.”
Jo kissed him and got serious. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what? I’ve not really done anything.”
Reaching up, she traced the features she loved so much with her fingertips. “For giving me a home. A proper home.”
“Well, this mansion isn’t mine—”
“I’m not talking about the building we’re in.” She thought of her lonely childhood, her sense of being lost in the world even as she lived around other people. “More than the answers to who I am, I’ve been searching for a home. You are my home. You, and only you, are my shelter and my comfort.”
“I don’t deserve that.” His expression darkened. “Jo, there are still things you have to know about me. About things I’ve done. I mean, I’m not that person anymore, but—”
“I will listen to everything and anything you have to say. But you need to know that the male you are now, and the male you’ve always