The waiting was the worst part. There was no way to tell how long it would take for the active agent Emrys had infected Dorian with to work its way entirely through his system, to change his basic DNA, and for that change to then heal the damage done to his body by the illness he was already battling. It was one of the longest nights of Seren's life. She didn't sleep, keeping a close vigil over her mate as he fevered through the darkness, her watchful worry fading only when she checked the bandage on his arm around dawn and found that the wound was beginning to clot.

Relieved, she was able to reassure Neville about his brother's condition, and with Demi's encouragement, the musician was convinced to go home, to change and wash, and go about his normal day. Emrys, too, was eager to take Marissa to their home, though he promised to return and check on them soon.

But by mid-morning, Seren was alone with Dorian's sleeping form once again. She called into work, promising to work on edits and CDs of photoshoots gone before to make up the time she was missing in the studio. After all, what else could she do' He would wake up when he was ready, and she couldn't force it to happen. A little distraction would be welcome.

Though he had been mostly unconscious and unaware of the battle going on in his own body, Dorian had been fighting for his life most of the night. At first, his body had tried to fight the infection, causing a raging fever that was dangerous in itself, but as the day moved into night and night moved into the next day, he seemed to quiet and settle, as his body worked to heal itself, with the help of his altered DNA. It wasn't until it was nearing noon that the fever broke, and he finally started to stir. His memory was full of fever dreams, unsure how much of what he remembered was real and how much was imagined. The first sound he made was a quiet groan, though there was only a vague pain in his arm and nothing more.

Even in another room, Seren was on high alert for any sound from the bedroom. As Dorian's groan reached her ears, she abandoned her work - saving it first - and headed back to the bedroom to check on him. Aware that his senses were going to be a little overloaded until he got used to the newness, she spoke softly as she approached the doorway. "It's just me," she told him, stepping into the room. "You're safe. Everyone is safe. The danger is passed."

He'd heard her breathing in the other room, smelled her scent and somehow knew it was her, but it seemed almost surreal, as if he was only dreaming this, too. "Seren," he said, his throat parched as he took in his surroundings, recognizing her apartment and noticing small nuances he hadn't noticed before. "What happened" I feel ..." He broke off. How did he feel"

She smiled gently, moving to sit on the bed beside him. One hand touched his brow, checking for any sign of the fever that had broken only a few minutes before; the other raised a glass of water from the bedside cabinet. "Here," she offered it to him. "What do you remember?"

He took a long swallow from the glass, draining its contents, his throat feeling like he'd traveled for days without water in the desert. That done, he furrowed his brows at her question as he tried to remember. Though they were all alone, there were so many distractions he'd never noticed before. He could hear birds chirping outside her apartment, and a low murmur that he realized were other people's voices both inside and outside the building. How had he not heard them before" And then, there were the smells that were making his stomach growl with hunger. Someone in another building was cooking something with onions and peppers. And then there was the faint scent of those who'd been here last night. He could easily pick up and recognize Seren's scent, but there were others, too, mingled and confusing to his newly heightened sense of smell. "I don't know," he replied, closing his eyes as he tried to focus on her question. "It's confusing."

"It will be, for a while," she assured him, keeping her voice soft. "I can get you some ear plugs if you want them while you're settling in with this, but it's a case of just getting used to ignoring the distractions." Her fingers stroked his cheek fondly, easing their way down his arm to take his hand. "But here's a good part," she added, drawing his hand to the other arm, where the day before there had been an ugly wolf bite.

He looked to his arm where he remembered Emrys biting him, the memory of it still fresh in his mind, albeit a little confusing. Where there was once an ugly wound, raw and oozing with blood, there was now only the faintest remnant, as if it had been healing for weeks. It wouldn't be long before there wasn't even a scar left to show for it. He ran his fingers over the place where the wound was nearly healed, eyes wide with wonder, and noticed his hand wasn't shaking. In fact, despite all his body had endured, he felt steadier than he had in months. "Did it work?" he asked, uncertainly, though there was certainly enough proof to answer his question.

Her smile deepened as she leaned close to breathe him in, memorizing the new edge to his scent that told her he was a shifter. "It worked," she murmured next to his ear. "Next full moon, you're gonna be on four legs for a while. But it worked. You're a wolf, Dorian."

"I'm like you," he said, unable to hide the wonder from his voice, as he looked to her, lifting a hand to touch her face, her hair. It felt all new to him, like he'd been half dead before. How had he never noticed how soft her hair was, how bright her eyes" He leaned close, closing his eyes as he breathed in her scent, some part of him that he didn't understand yet memorizing her scent, knowing she was his mate.

"You're better than me," she laughed softly, easing closer to let him explore. Though she couldn't imagine it herself, she knew what it was to be surrounded by details that humans just couldn't perceive. "You can change your shape. Once you've shifted once, you'll be able to do it at will. You'll be the one protecting me."

"I don't know what to do first," he said, his fingers sweeping through the silk of her hair to catch a handful of it in his fist and carefully draw it to his nose. He suddenly wanted to do everything all at once, as if he had never really lived before until this very moment. It was like an awakening, a new life, and though the thought of shifting scared him a little, he felt more alive than ever before.

Seren let him play with her hair as much as he liked, knowing it was a scent trap not only for her own unique scent, but for every other scent she lingered in on a given day. "My suggestion' Take a shower," she told him fondly. "You're pretty ripe - you've been feverish for almost twenty-four hours. And I'll make you something to eat. How does that sound?"

He chuckled in amusement. "That explains one of the smells assaulting my nose," he said. "I feel so ....different," he said, unable to come up with a better word for it. "What did my brother say?" he asked abruptly, as he seemed to recall Neville and Demeter being there when he'd been bitten. They'd been here, too, hadn't they'

"He didn't wanna go," she told him gently. "But Demi had work today, and so did he. She convinced him to trust me, and I think her plan was to take him home, force him to nap and shower, and then to deliver him to the theater before she had to go into work. Emrys and Marissa left this morning, too. They needed to be in their own home for a while, but they'll be back. They'll all be back. We're a pack now, you know? Family ties."

"Yeah, that'll work," he replied, especially because it was true. His friends were probably going to ask questions, but they were mostly questions he could answer. They didn't need to know about his illness or the change that had cured him. The thought of it made him frown, though, worried as he was for his brother. Now that they'd met, he felt a connection with Neville he couldn't explain. How long had they been together before they'd been separated" Not long, he thought, but maybe being twins made a difference. Whatever it was, he had plenty of time now to figure it out, so long as nothing happened to his brother. He picked up the phone finally to call his friends, his voice soft and steady as he explained as much of the situation as he dared.

Of course, Seren was aware of what Neville had told Demi in the car shortly after Dorian had been bitten, but she couldn't reassure him with that unless he expressed that concern. As he spoke on the phone with his friends, she extracted a large rib-eye steak from the refrigerator and began to cook it, absentmindedly licking the raw blood off her fingertips. It was little things like that which pointed to her lycan blood. Even if she didn't change her shape, Dorian's mate was definitely a wolf on the inside.

Dorian's elevated senses caught the smell of the steak even before she started to cook it, and his stomach reminded him once again of his hunger, his mouth watering at the thought of it. He might not yet understand what it was to be a wolf, a predator, but he knew he was hungry for something he could really sink his teeth into. He returned his phone to the coffee table and returned to the kitchen. "They want to start rehearsing soon. We're doing Arabian Nights. I told them you have some ideas to show them."

"Mmhmm, I certainly do." She flashed him a grin over her shoulder, flipping the steak. Rare would do, for both of them. "I also have a surprise for you. You and your troupe are not paying for your photography or advertising costs. The Shanachie Theater is."

"That smells amazing," he murmured as he leaned over her shoulder, snaking his arms around her waist, before furrowing his brows at her in confusion. "What do you mean' Why would they do that?"

"Well, red meat cures most ills," she chuckled, leaning back into him as the steak seared in the pan. His question made her smile warm. "I was talking to Ms. De Luca this morning, finalizing the arrangements for a shoot she wants to do with her STARS program, and I happened to mention that there's a traveling troupe in town. She wanted to know where you guys are set up, whether you needed rehearsal space, and asked me if I would do any photography for you. She loves the theater, Dorian, it's obvious in the way she talks. She doesn't see you as competition, she sees you as an alternative, and she wants to promote you as much as she can. And she also told me that if any of you guys need professional headshots done, I should do them, and she'd pay."

"She's going to help the competition because she loves the theater?" he asked, unsure he heard her right. They were a traveling troupe; they weren't even planning on staying more than a few months, just for the summer, but that led to another concern - one they had touched on only briefly.

"Yeah." Seren nodded, smiling at his confusion. "Mataya De Luca would do a good turn even if she was homeless, penniless, and legless. She's got a good reputation, Dorian. And what does it hurt to let her help you a little?"

"It doesn't hurt anything. I've done my homework. I know the Shanachie has a sterling reputation, and I'm sure the troupe will appreciate the offer. We just don't get that kind of support very often," he explained as he drew away momentarily so he could pour himself a cup of coffee, though he doubted he needed the caffeine fix anymore.

"Welcome to Rhy'Din," Seren teased him fondly. "She's serious about the professional shots for your portfolios, you know. Depending on how many of you there are, that's about a week's work for me, but you'd all have professional photography to use wherever you go." She bit her lip, glancing away. She didn't want Dorian to move on when the troupe did, but she also didn't want to hold him back. But she had a business here, and family. So what happened next"

"I'm not going anywhere, Seren," he said, without hesitation. He'd already decided that. It would mean having to find a new job, and he knew his friends would miss him, but with lucky, they'd understand. He'd make them understand. He'd been a nomad - a man without a home or a family - but all that had changed and it was all because of Seren. "Do you really think I'd leave you?"

"Oh, I know you wouldn't leave me," she promised him, slicing the large steak neatly down the center to halve it. Bending, she reached for a glove to get the already loaded plates out of the oven. "I just wasn't sure how it was going to work. Was I going to go with you, or would you stay here" And you just answered a question I never came out and asked."

Maybe this wasn't the time to talk about it, with her attention focused on cooking, but it was something that needed discussion. It wasn't just about decided whether he was going to stay or not; it was about making decisions that would affect the rest of their lives. "I'm ready to settle down, if you're willing to have me," he told her.

Seren paused, setting the plates on the table. "Come here," she told him, reaching out to draw him close. "Smell me. Just me, try and ignore everything else. And then smell yourself. When you notice, you'll know there's no need to ask questions like that."

"Notice what?" he asked, unsure what it was he was supposed to be looking for. He linked his fingers with hers, letting her draw him closer, not even sure how he should go about smelling her exactly. The closer he got to her, the more her scent - her being - seemed to fill his senses with the essence that could only be her.

She smiled, reaching up to draw him closer, directing his nose to the curve of her throat. "Just smell me," she told him, letting him explore her scent for a moment before she raised his wrist to his nose. "Now smell you." And she waited, watching for moment when he realized that their scents had somehow mingled now he was as she was. A mating really was a lot more than simply being in love.

With his heightened sense of smell, Dorian could sense both the similarities and the differences between them, as subtle as they were. It was all new to him, and he was surprised to find how much his instincts told him, just from that brief interaction. He brushed his nose against her neck, breathing her in, before she urged him to inhale his own scent, the scent of her doing something to his insides that was both familiar and unfamiliar. It wasn't just a physical sense of arousal he was feeling, but something more - some sort of sense of belonging, of knowing she was his, and he was hers. It wasn't a human sort of feeling, but something deeper, more primal, and though his body seemed to understand it, his brain did not. "I don't understand," he told her, looking a little confused.

Smiling once more, she gently stroked his cheek. "It's the same scent," she told him softly. "A little more yours on you, a little more mine on me, but we share a scent now, Dorian. We're mated. So stop asking me for permission to share my life. You're already a part of me."

His smile brightened, though there was a little worry in his eyes. It wasn't Neville and Demeter that worried him, or even Emrys and Marissa. They were all family now. No, it was his friends that worried him. What would they say when he told them he was staying" "I'm not sure where to begin," he said uncertainly, though it seemed the place to start for now was dinner - or was it lunch"

"Hmm," he mused aloud, unsure he wanted to think about piercings too much - at least, not the kind she was hinting at. "It's your body, but it sounds kind of painful. What do you think about tattoos?" he asked, curiously. "His and hers."

"That's ..." Seren paused, a slow smile brightening her expression. "That's actually a really good idea. You'd never need to worry about losing your ring when you shifted, for a start."

"It would be permanent," he warned, or as permanent as tattoos could be. There was always a means to erase them, if one really wanted to, especially in Rhy'Din, but she was right - there would be no risk of losing one then. "It's just symbolic really," he said with a shrug, though it would mark them as taken to anyone else who might have an interest. "But then, if you'd prefer a nipple ring, who am I to argue?" he added with a grin.

"Why not a matching set, with a pretty chain hanging between them?" she teased, batting her lashes at him as she scraped the last of the food from her plate. "I like the idea of tattoos. They wouldn't have to be rings. They'd just be us."

His mouth dropped open a little, unsure what to say to that, the thought of it making his body react in ways he hadn't expected. "Are you serious?" he asked, mostly of the piercings, not the tattoos.

Seren's expression crackled with mischief as she watched him react to the mental image she'd just concocted for him. "What, you don't like that idea?" she asked innocently. "I did hear there are places that do all three, and you can buy these gorgeous things that attach to all of them."

Fortunately for him, he wasn't chewing on his steak at that moment or he might have choked to death. Werewolves could still choke to death, couldn't they' He wasn't really sure about that, but thankfully, he didn't have to find out. "All three?" he asked, circling around the third spot that neither was naming, knowing she wasn't talking about a belly ring.

"You know ....one, two ....three." Her hands made a vague but illuminating gesture around her front before she leaned forward onto her arms once again. "Unless that's a little too much for you. I mean, I get that it's all very overwhelming right now. I'd hate to make you catatonic on your first proper day of really living."

He'd had the feeling when he'd first met her that he'd met his match, and the more he got to know her, the more he realized how right he'd been. "Just don't ask me to do the same," he told her, not wanting to even thing about anyone sticking needles in certain parts of his body where holes didn't belong. A tattoo was one thing, a piercing another.

"Aww, spoilsport," she laughed, leaning back with her cup in her hands. "You're fun to tease." She nodded toward his plate. "Feeling better now you're all fed and clean?"

"I'm glad I keep you amused," he replied with a grin, as he moved to his feet. Now that he was healed, rested, clean, and fed, there was only one thing on his mind, and it was entirely her fault for teasing him. With newfound strength he hardly realized he possessed, he drew her up from the chair and tossed her easily over one shoulder. "And now it's time for dessert," he proclaimed as he started back toward the bedroom for the second course.

Thank goodness she's put the cup down when he stood up. Seren's laughter described an arc between her seat and where she ended up, only grunting a little as the breath was knocked from her lungs. This was going to be fun.

Fun was the whole point, after all, and though she might not have any tattoos or piercings as yet, that would not deter him. He felt more alive than he had in years, and she was going to be the one benefiting from it.

And didn't she just' With no illness to wear him out, and a newfound vigor, it was a wonder Seren could walk by the time Dorian was done. As it was, she lay tangled in the sheets, breathless and amazed, her fingers toying with his as she smiled at him. "I guess this means I should be taking precautions, huh?" she asked him impishly. "Since there's no chance of you hopping off your twig anytime soon." Her expression was curious, though - if he had no objection, neither did she.

He had done most of the work, so to speak, and he was hardly out of breath. In fact, he only felt more invigorated than ever, as though he could follow that up with running a marathon - or maybe making love to her all night long. He supposed he shouldn't be too greedy though; he didn't want to hurt her, after all. "Hopping off my twig?" he echoed with a chuckle. "The hell does that mean?"

"You know what I mean," she laughed, rolling to rest her chin on his chest, meeting his eyes with warm affection. "Poor little birdie has a sudden heart attack, last thing he does is hop off his twig. And that's not happening to you any time soon."

"Birdies don't have heart attacks," he corrected her with a tap of a finger to her nose. "And you're not getting rid of me that easily," he added with a grin, not that she wanted to.

"Mmm, I'm very glad to hear it." She grinned, easing higher to kiss him tenderly. "Because, you know, there's a chance we're already brewing a family here." Wiggling her brows teasingly, she snickered, nipping the tip of his nose. "So ....precautions, or no precautions" If we keep at it like this, we're gonna be parents by next year."

"Will they carry my predisposition for illness?" he asked, his mirth suddenly turning to worry. His DNA might have been altered and changed, but he wasn't sure what effect that would have upon any of their children.

"No," she assured him. "You're a lycan now. Your ability to heal from just about anything is what you'll be passing on. And they won't have my problem, either. Our children, if we have them, will be full shifters when they reach puberty. Oh, and, uh ....the least we can expect is twins."

He looked visibly relieved to hear that, though there was still the question of his brother. Still, the solution to that problem was the same as his own, so he wasn't overly worried about it. "Twins?" he echoed. "They won't be born pups then?" he asked further. Having only become what he was recently, he still had plenty of questions and lots to learn.

"No." She shook her head. "I don't know how other lycans do it, but I saw enough pregnancies to know how my people do it. They stay human throughout the pregnancy, and they give birth to human-looking babies. Usually between two to four. There were five in my litter, but I think that was unusual. The kids grow up normally until they reach puberty, and then the moon exerts its pull on them. The first turn is ....it was a really important event. And of the five of us, they only got two that could turn at all."

"But ours would be ..." He trailed off, unsure how to phrase his thoughts exactly. "They wouldn't be like your siblings, right?" he asked, uncertainly. Her bloodline had been pure - too pure. His bloodline would ensure that their children wouldn't have any problems shifting, the way she and Emrys had, or so he believed.

"Okay." This was going to take a little explaining. "In a normal wolf pack, the Alpha is the strongest male or female. They fight to get to where they are, they keep their position until they die or lose a challenge. In our lycan packs" The Alpha is a little different. Emrys created you; in a way, he's your father and your brother at the same time. He'll have your back, he'll protect you, he'll do everything he can to help you on your path. But when you're both shifted, when you're both on four legs, your mind and his will be connected. Not mind-reading, he's not going to know every thought that goes through your head. But if he gives you an order, you physically won't be able to disobey it. I know my brother. He will never order you to do anything, unless it's absolutely necessary. But he'll be able to talk you through your first change, in a way that no one else can. Having that voice in your mind will help you with your control. And you'll be able to do the same for our kids."

Dorian's eyes widened as Seren explained all this to him. Whether she could shift or not, she had been the link to Emrys, and through Zane, to Neville. It was because of her that he was no longer sick or alone, and though she couldn't shift, she knew far more about what he'd become than he did. "I'm not sure he likes me much," Dorian said with a small, almost sad frown, but then, they hadn't had much time to get to know each other as people.

"Who, Emrys?" She stared at him, amusement warring with surprise in her eyes. "Dorian, he hunted down a rogue for you. He turned you when you asked him to. He came back here to check on you when that hunt was over. If he didn't like you, he'd have challenged you the second you met."

"He hunted down a rogue for you," Dorian corrected. In fact, in his mind, everything Emrys had done for him had really been done for Seren's sake, but he didn't want to argue the matter. Time would tell if the two became friends, but he could not deny Emrys was he alpha to his beta. "Does he know that he went back in time to save you yet?" he asked, changing the subject once again.

"Oh, I think he knows by now," she nodded. "Marissa asked me about it last night. I told her what I remember, and she seems pretty sure they'll go and do it soon. Because changing that one piece of my past won't affect their present, and that's what?s important in her mind."

"It's already happened," Dorian reasoned, though that was not the case for Marissa and Emrys. Time travel wasn't something he'd ever tried to wrap his head around. If it had, he might have gone back in time himself to make sure he and his brother had never been separated, but it was too risky. It was better to leave that worm can closed. Then again, it seemed Marissa and Emrys' decision had already been made for them. "What if they don't?" he asked, a little worriedly. It wasn't only his brother he didn't want to risk losing, but Seren, too.

"If they don't ....we'll never know it," she said quietly. "I'll be dead, long before any of this was ever going to happen." She shook her head. "But they won't let that happen. We're family, Dorian, all of us. If they don't save me, then they don't save you, and they don't save Neville. There are more lives at stake if they don't do it, than if they do."

He touched a soft kiss to her lips, his voice warm and reassuring. "You're proof that they'll do it, and they'll succeed," he said, needing to believe it. It was strange to think that her past was their future, but stranger things had been known to happen. Even he was proof of that. His whole life had changed, all because he'd chosen her studio to do the photos for the troupe, just a few days before. "Come on," he said, giving her a quick kiss before rolling out of bed. "I want you to meet the troupe."

She smiled as he kissed her, letting out a soft yelp as he abruptly rolled out from underneath her. From her new home in between the pillows, she laughed, pushing herself up onto her elbows. "Right now?" she asked, not exactly saying no.

He drew her with him as he rolled out of bed, though she seemed happy to stay there and just watch him get dressed. "Yeah, right now," he replied with a grin. "I've met your friends and family. Now, it's time you met mine." Or at least, the friends who'd become his family over the last decade or so.

She rolled off the bed at his urging, considering the scatter of clothing for a moment. "Real clothes, then," she decided with a grin. "Not just something you can get off me in a hurry." She threw him a wink, turning to rummage for clothing suitable for the outdoors. "I wonder how many girls you've brought home to meet the folks?"

He laughed as he searched for something suitable to wear. Fortunately, someone had had the forethought to lend him a few of Neville's things until he could get back to the caravan to fetch his own things. "Do you really want to know the answer to that question?" he teased, wondering if she'd be surprised by the answer.

"Well, I gotta know about the competition, don't I?" she asked sweetly, though her smile was definitely a tease. "How many other girls came before me tells me how hard I'm gonna have to work to get them on my side" Is my natural wit and charm going to be enough, or do I need to resort to bribery?" She turned, half-dressed, to lean up and kiss the tip of his nose.

"Trust me, you don't have to worry about the competition," he replied with a soft smile - mostly because there was no competition. Sure, he'd enjoyed his share of women over the years, but there'd never been anyone he'd been serious about until now. "They might take a little convincing." Especially since they'd only known each other for a few days, and he wasn't sure just how much he was prepared to tell them.

"Well, all they need to know right now is that we met when you came to the studio to hire me, and we hit it off," she gently reminded him. "Like I said, let them see what?s going on. Trust me, they'll tell you we're serious about each other."

"I'm not sure how they're going to feel when I tell them I'm staying," he added, as he pulled a shirt on over his head, his hair mussed from bed. He wasn't really sure why it mattered, but if they were really his friends, they'd try and understand and be happy for him.

"Sweetheart, stop worrying about it," she told him, shrugging into her own shirt. "They don't have to know right away, do they' They'll want to see you, make you're all right. And you can tell them about Ms. De Luca's generous offer. That should distract them from asking anything too deep, at least tonight." She paused, dragging a brush ruthlessly through her hair until the tangles were all gone. "Will I do?"

"Baby, you're gorgeous," he replied with a smile, as he looped his arms around her waist to draw her in for a kiss, careful not to get too distracted or they'd end up in bed again. That wasn't a bad thing necessarily, but he'd already been away for a few days, and he knew his friends were bound to start worrying.

She nuzzled close, always happy to be praised by her mate. "So ....can I bring my camera?" she asked hopefully. Ordinarily, it never left her bag, but for some reason, she felt the need to ask him this time.

"You don't have to ask," he assured her with a touch of a kiss to the tip of her nose. He knew her camera was as much a part of her as the theater was to him. "Come on. I'm anxious for you to meet them. Trust me, they're gonna love you." Especially Delilah. He had a strange feeling Seren and Delilah were going to become fast friends.

She squealed happily, excited to take pictures of him with his friends in those unguarded moments she loved to capture. Bouncing on her toes, she untangled herself, seizing his hand to drag him downstairs with her. At least he could be sure she wasn't scared of meeting the family.

Scared or not, he'd met her brother and her brother's mate, and now it was his turn to return the favor. He only hoped she was right, and that his friends would be as welcoming and understanding as her family had been.

((And the long weekend is over! Only took us a week and half, but hey, it happened! Huge thanks to my partner in crime!))