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“And none too soon, I’d have had my hands full,” Baz said as they hurried to cuddle startled, yipping pups who were certainly hungry after their long nap.

It also meant they’d be raring to play in the snow once they’d had their meal, and after several hours in the office, Roark was more than ready for some outdoor time himself. Working in tandem, they got the pups fed, always easier when they were in fur, since they were happy to stick their snouts in their bowls and pig out. Grunts and growls were commonplace and utterly adorable no matter how many times Roark heard them. After what they’d accomplished today, snow time with the pups was a well-deserved reward.

The pups messily groomed one another once they finished eating. Clover, once again proving herself to be a leader, pinned Bowie down and started licking his ears, prompting Acer to do the same with Anais. Wolf instincts grew at a different rate than human ones. The pups knew they had to wait before it was time to go outside. Grooming was how they filled the time before Roark and Baz shifted.

Doors with levers that could be opened by paws were another feature in shifter homes that Roark had rarely seen in human structures. It was all about the opposable thumbs for them. Sometimes he wondered how many could have been saved by an animal companion if only their loyal pet had been able to open the door to get to them.

Out into the snow they bounded, fluffy tails sticking in the air when front paws sank into soft powder. They’d learned to leap out now, though at first, they’d sat on their rumps and whimpered until someone had nosed at them and helped them get moving.

Yipping and woofing even when they floundered, Roark could tell they were growing stronger and sturdier each time they were in this form. Their play area beneath the trees took effort for them to get to now, but each day they made new paths, occasionally reaching it. Most days they got so excited at the chance to chase and pounce one another that they forgot about anything else.

Chasing and pouncing were forbidden indoors where there were all kinds of hard things for pups to run into. Out here they had free reign to perfect their skills the way Roark and so many other wolves had done, generation after generation: on their siblings.

He picked up the sound of a vehicle approaching even over the happy yips and barks, an answering bark echoing across the lawn a few minutes later as Wren rushed to join in the fun.

The rest of the family followed soon after, clothing abandoned in their haste to shift. Family fur time was as important as pouncing sessions.

Ooof!

It was also where pups got lessons in pouncing from frisky adults. Roark huffed as he righted himself after Logan pounced on him, his mate’s tongue lolling out, laughing at the snow clinging to Roark’s cheek. It kicked off a merry chase that extended around the house and across the lawn, dipping down the hill that led to the lake before they raced back up it, Logan always one leap or bound ahead of him, though occasionally, Roark got close enough to get smacked in the face by Logan’s tail.

They kicked up so much snow when they raced around the pups and the rest of the adults that everyone was covered in it by the time they rushed off. Roark finally drew up alongside Logan enough to hip-check him into a snowbank, which exploded upon impact. When the fluff settled, Logan lay half embedded in the snow, fur a bedraggled mess as he struggled to right himself.

I will get you for this.

Gotta catch me first.

It was Logan’s turn to chase and Roark’s to hope he could keep from getting caught. In the end, neither of them should have forgotten their prankster mate, but they had, and they paid for it when Rusty popped up out of the snow directly in their path and nearly scared the piss out of Roark.

Yelping, he was barely able to avoid colliding with him. Logan wasn’t as fortunate, and he and Rusty tumbled head over heels before landing several feet away, panting.

Came home intent on creating chaos, huh? Roark thought to Logan from a safe distance away.

There wouldn’t have been chaos if you hadn’t run. Logan thought back.

And make it easy on you? Never.

Have it your way. I don’t mind playing Tom to your Jerry after work each night.

Roark snarled, narrowing his eyes at his mate. Why do I have to be Jerry?

‘Cause you’re the one with a pretty tail.

Fucker! How the hell am I supposed to respond to that?

By coming over here and welcoming me properly before we return to the pups.

Leery, and ready to take evasive action if his mate decided to pounce on him again, Roark closed the distance between them to discover that the only thing Logan wanted was to rub noses and cheeks with him. Mingling scents and replacing the work ones with the smell of the other members of the family was another piece of the homecoming process. Being apart was difficult, especially when the mating bond was new. It had taken him and Rusty time to get used to being apart from one another after all the years they’d spent riding side by side.

How were things at work today?, Roark thought to Logan first and then Rusty.

Logan’s car is running like a dream again and safely tucked away in a heated garage, Rusty replied. Cor and I started fabricating his new motorcycle frame design. The first few bends were tricky, and we had to scrap a few pieces of metal, but it’s coming along.

You’ll get it.

The challenges are what I’ve been looking forward to most, Rusty admitted. Every obstacle we overcome in this build will make the next one easier.

I’m looking forward to the unveiling of the first line.