“It was, for everyone involved, but the outcome was good.”
“Was the baby human?”
“It’s not yet known. The father was a wolf—I think he works on the arable farm—but the mother is human, so I suppose we won’t know until the child is older.”
Zio couldn’t name the emotions that rolled through him as he contemplated that. “I can’t imagine growing up without knowing. I was raised by humans, but for as long as I can remember, I counted the days until my first shift.”
“How old were you?”
“Eleven.”
It was Devan’s turn to flinch. “That’s... young. The development in hereditary shifters is much slower.”
“And much faster in adults who are bitten. Did your change hurt?”
“Yes. Very much. But I was never alone, and it was something I’d chosen. I think that helps.”
“I didn’t choose to be bitten, and it didn’t hurt.”
Devan’s expression grew distant, the way Zio had noticed it often did when he was reaching for the wisdom Zio lacked. “There isn’t much literature on shifters who are bitten as infants. Years ago such things were forbidden, and the ruling councils would’ve destroyed you and Varian both.”
“Yeah, he told me that. He probably told me what changed too, but I never paid much attention to his history lessons.”
“What changed was the leadership of the supernatural world. Vampires and werewolves were defeated by shifters. New alliances formed; new laws made. By the time you were born, it was no longer permitted to destroy supernatural infants without just cause... no longer up to, say, Varian, to prove you weren’t dangerous, and instead up to the authorities to prove you were.”
Zio turned his gaze to the sky. Varian had warned him many times that the world was far greater than he’d ever see, but the idea that shifters he’d never meet had held his fate in their hands disturbed him.
Devan stopped and caught Zio’s hand, tugging him back until they were face-to-face. “I can’t vouch for the ruling wolves of the world, but you were never in danger from Shadow Clan.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. I may not have known about you, but I’ve heard of other shifters who were bitten as infants, and never once witnessed Dash advocating their death.”
“What about Luca? Your war general, huh? I bet he’s not so—”
“So what? You’ve already admitted that you have little knowledge of supernatural history, so why do you have such concrete opinions?”
“Am I annoying you, Devan?”
Devan’s gaze flickered, turning his bright eyes a stormy blue. “Would that make you happy?”
“I—” Zio opened his mouth. Shut it again. He couldn’t deny that riling Devan was amusing. That his reaction was off the scale hot. But did upsetting him make Zio happy?
That was a hard no.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Devan’s scowl remained for a moment longer; then his face softened, and he shrugged. “I’m not offended. Perhaps spending the last twelve hours with wolves who didn’t care for my presence has left me more irritable than usual.”
Irritable wasn’t a word Zio had associated with Devan in the short time he’d known him. “What wolves?”
“The father of the baby and his extended family. They didn’t want a non-wolf healer near his human mate and his child. It took some persuading and the actual threat of death to change their minds.”
“I didn’t want you here either.”
“I know.”
“But death didn’t have to persuade me otherwise if it’s any consolation.”