Moon Goddess, Name Him

chapter 16

POV Cassidy

"Miss Whitaker, are we really sleeping outside tonight?" Eight-year-old Emma bounced beside me as we hiked up the mountain trail toward the campsite.

"We are indeed. Theo's scouting group does this every month, and they invited our class to join them."

The afternoon sun filtered through pine branches as twenty children chattered excitedly about s'mores and ghost stories. Theo led the group with natural authority, pointing out wildlife tracks and teaching them to read trail markers.

"Mr. Muray, what if bears come?" nervous Jamie Peterson asked, clutching his backpack straps.

"Then we'll make noise and back away slowly," Theo explained patiently. "Bears usually avoid people if they know we're coming. That's why we talk and sing on trails."

"Can you fight a bear?" Emma wanted to know.

Theo grinned. "I'd rather not find out. Smart people avoid fights they don't need to have."

His calm confidence eased the children's fears while teaching them practical wilderness skills. When little Marcus stumbled over a root and started crying, Theo knelt beside him without missing a beat.

"Let me see that scrape," he said gently, pulling a first aid kit from his backpack. "You know what this reminds me of? The first time I fell off my bike. I was convinced I'd never walk again."

Marcus giggled through his tears. "Really?"

"Really. My mom had to convince me my leg wasn't broken." Theo cleaned the wound with careful precision. "But look, I'm walking just fine now. And so will you."

Watching him with the children made something warm unfurl in my chest. His patience seemed endless. With scared kids, he offered reassurance. With shy ones, gentle encouragement. With the rambunctious troublemakers, firm but kind boundaries.

The memory of Xander calming Tommy Henderson after the river rescue flickered through my mind. Both brothers possessed this natural gift with children, though they expressed it differently. Xander's intensity channeled into protective strength, while Theo offered steady comfort.

How was I supposed to choose between two men who were both genuinely good?

At the campsite, Theo and I moved around each other with surprising synchronization. He handled safety protocols while I organized educational activities. When I needed tent stakes, he passed them without being asked. When he looked for the camp stove, I pointed toward his backpack before he'd even spoken.

"You two work well together," observed parent volunteer Mrs. Simmons as she watched us coordinate dinner preparations.

"It feels natural," I admitted, surprised by how true that was.

This was how life with Theo would be. Easy. Comfortable. Two people building something together without constant drama or complications.

As twilight painted the mountains purple, Theo produced a guitar from his gear and settled by the campfire. The children gathered around with marshmallows and chocolate, their earlier nervousness replaced by contentment.

"What should we sing?" he asked, fingers finding chords with practiced ease.

"Something scary!" Alice demanded.

"Something happy!" Mathew countered.

Theo's laugh rumbled warm and rich through the mountain air. "How about both?"

He started with camp classics that had everyone singing along, then shifted to gentler melodies as bedtime approached. His voice carried easily across the clearing, strong and sure and completely at home in this setting.

When the children were settled in their tents with parent volunteers, Theo transitioned to a love ballad I didn't recognize. His eyes found mine across the dancing flames.

"This one's for someone special," he said softly. "Someone who makes me want to be the man worthy of that smile."

Heat flooded my cheeks as every adult in camp turned to look at me. But instead of embarrassment, I felt joy spreading through my chest like warm honey. He wasn't hiding his feelings or playing games. He was claiming me publicly, proudly.

After the parents and children were asleep, Theo appeared at my tent with a quiet invitation.

"Want to see something beautiful?"

He led me deeper into the forest, where moonlight streamed through pine boughs like silver curtains. The silence felt sacred, broken only by our footsteps on soft earth.

"I want to show you who I really am," he said quietly. "All of me."

He began unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate slowness, revealing lean muscle in the silver light. When he stripped completely, vulnerability radiated from every line of his body.

"Are you sure?" I whispered.

"I trust you."

The transformation began as a shimmer across his skin, bones reshaping, muscles flowing like water into a new configuration. Within moments, a magnificent wolf stood before me. His coat was rich brown with golden highlights, and his eyes held the same warm intelligence I'd grown to love.

I approached carefully, extending my hand for him to scent. When he leaned into my touch, pressing his massive head against my palm, complete surrender flowed through the connection.

"You're beautiful," I breathed, stroking the soft fur behind his ears.

He rumbled contentment, yellow eyes never leaving my face. In this moment, he was giving me his whole heart, his complete trust, his deepest secret.

When he shifted back and dressed, we stood together under stars that seemed close enough to touch.

"I've been waiting a long time for someone to sing to," he whispered, pulling me into his arms. "Someone who makes me want to be better than I am."

Our kiss tasted like promises and forever. Gentle pressure, emotional rather than desperate, built on trust and acceptance and the certainty that we could build something lasting together.

With Theo, love felt like a deep, comforting warmth that embraced me.

But as we walked back toward camp, hand in hand through moonlit trees, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching from the shadows.