Chapter 409: Touch, Just the Faintest

Cora

After a few minutes—or maybe an hour; I honestly don't know how time works here—the baby's happiness faded into silence. But not in a bad way; it was more like he simply…

"He fell asleep," Roger murmured, laughing softly and falling back onto the bed, taking me with him since his arms were still wrapped around me.

"It's too early for the baby to sleep," I murmured, confused. "That usually happens around the seventh month."

"All right, Dr. Cora," Roger muttered, and I could hear him roll his eyes, even though I couldn't see it, which made me laugh. "Considering we're on a magical dream beach, sharing our emotions with our unborn child through a magical bond, I don't think your medical knowledge applies here."

"Oh, shut up," I murmured, slapping his chest and sighing contentedly. Roger laughed and inhaled my scent deeply.

"That was amazing," he whispered. "I'll never forget that as long as I live."

"Do you think we only felt it because we're here?" I asked, equally thrilled. "Or will we feel it when we're awake, too?"

"I don't know," Roger replied. "But maybe being in the dream amplified it. I guess we'll find out."

"Yeah," I said, happy and content. "Because as much as I want to feel it all the time, I'm also content to wait, to experience all parts of this pregnancy in their own time. I guess we will."

I closed my eyes and relaxed against my mate, little shivers passing through me as he idly traced his fingers over my back. We both marveled at the magic of that incredible first connection with the baby.

Suddenly, something changed. I opened my eyes to see my wolf standing on the beach a short distance away.

"Roger," I said softly, beginning to sit up. He opened his eyes and looked where I was looking, also seeing my wolf in the sand, her tongue lolling happily.

"Oh," he said, sitting up and holding me close. "Wow, Cora… she's beautiful."

But I didn't reply as I looked at my wolf, at the thousand shades of brown in her fur, from tawny to chestnut. I knew she wasn't just here to be admired—though she was enjoying that, too.

Come with me, she said—and I knew, instinctively, that Roger heard her as well. I have something to show you.

We both eagerly stood, laughing at each other. Neither of us felt an ounce of fear, even though this was completely bizarre. My wolf danced in an eager circle and then trotted along the beach.

Roger took my hand, and we followed, walking quickly, eager to see what she was leading us to.

Before we went far, another shadow detached itself from the forest and bounded toward us. Roger laughed as his wolf dashed over and eagerly pressed his head to his chest, nuzzling him.

"This is so cool," Roger murmured, grinning at me before his wolf pressed its snout into my hands.

"Hello," Roger's gigantic wolf said. I marveled at his size—he nearly came up to my shoulder and could completely encircle me, which he did. "You are mine. You should let him bite you!"

I laughed, cooing, "Soon, soon," and running my hands through his warm fur. Roger laughed and put his arm around my shoulder as his wolf dashed toward mine.

"Told you he was annoying," Roger murmured.

"He's perfect," I replied, sighing and tilting my face up for a kiss. But before our lips met, my wolf yipped again, calling us forward. Confused but pleased, Roger and I started again.

"I have no idea what's happening," Roger said, grinning.

"I think it's going to be good," I said, peering after my wolf. "She's really excited."

We quickened our steps. My wolf stopped beside a patch of green bushes and again circled eagerly. Her prancing became even more enthusiastic as we approached.

Come, come, she said, her tongue lolling as Roger's wolf stood proudly at her shoulder. We want to show him to you.

A moan escaped my lips as I fell to my knees before the tiny bundle of fur sleeping on the beach, nestled in a bed of leaves. Roger almost collapsed beside me, his hands hitting the sand—I think saving him from falling flat on his face in shock.

"Oh," I said, my voice trembling, my body shaking as I reached out toward the incredibly perfect, incredibly tiny wolf pup. "Oh, you…"

As I reached out, I barely felt the brush of fur against my fingers—as if he were still half in the dream, or more than half.

You can't touch him yet, my wolf said, her voice full of love and pride. He is not big enough. But soon.

Roger moaned wordlessly, reaching out to touch the tiny pup. I felt his shock, disappointment, joy, and wonder as he, too, barely felt the ghost of fur against his fingertips.

Even if we hadn't met our baby yet, this… this was his wolf, his soul. And he was so, so beautiful.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I lay down next to the pup, studying every inch of him, with Roger curling up beside me to do the same.

"He looks like you," I said through my tears.

"How can he look like me?" Roger said, his voice choked with emotion. "He's a… a wolf…"

"His wolf looks like your wolf, you idiot," I murmured, laughing and tracing the line of my son's wolf's snout with a finger—I could barely feel it. His little nose was still pink, not yet the black it would become, and his little ears were two triangles pinned flat against his skull.

But he was fuzzy, warm, his tiny ribs rising with each breath, and his little paws were the cutest things I'd ever seen.

"He is a good pup," I heard Roger's wolf say, proud. "I like him."

We both laughed at the simple way Roger's wolf stated things. I glanced over my shoulder to see my wolf prancing and pressing herself close to Roger's wolf, touching noses in agreement.

"I like him, too," I said, resting my head so my nose was inches from the baby's.

"Yeah," Roger said, curling up behind me and peering at the pup. "We'll keep this one, for sure."

I laughed at my mate's dry humor, then, sadly, the world began to fade as the dream ended.

"Oh, no," I cried, frantic, wanting to stay forever—for days, weeks, to watch him grow, to see him open his eyes.

"It's all right," Roger murmured in my ear, kissing my cheek. "We'll be back."

"That's right, little baby," I said, turning back to my son, who slept peacefully. "We'll be back. We'll see you here soon."

"We love you so much," Roger murmured.

Then his voice faded, the vision faded, and all that remained was rest.