Page 37 of Hellhound AU

My parents were mated, and so was my older sister. It’s not like I didn’t know how it happened. I just didn’t expect it to happen to me. But there was no denying that what I felt for Milo went beyond friendship. It went beyond having a few rolls in the hay together, too. I felt more protective and more possessive toward him than I had ever felt toward anyone I’d dated.

And he hadn’t minded my tail.

I’d only revealed that part of myself to one other human, and the result had not been good. I’d been dating the guy for twoyears, and I’dthoughthe was open-minded and kind-hearted. Then I’d shown him my tail during sex.

It had not gone well.

He’d freaked out, and he’d refused to believe that I was a hellhound. He’d called me a delusional, deformed freak. I hadn’t really thought the guy was my mate, but I thought we had something wonderful going. I had begun to hope that we had a future, despite my family warning me that he wasn’t right for me.

It turned out that they were right, and I’d never shown my tail to another human. Until Milo, that is.

I must have been squeezing him a bit too hard, because he mumbled, “I got you, boo,” and patted my chest, then he went right back to snoring. Loudly.

I tried to carefully take my arm out from under his head, ready to quietly roll away so he could sleep and I could clean us up. Only the slight movement of my arm seemed to trigger some sort of stage ten clinger mode, because suddenly Milo was gripping onto me even harder, and he threw his leg over mine.

“I gotta get up,” I whispered.

Milo grumbled and squeezed, and he might have even pulled out a few chest hairs with one hand. Ouch.

“Milo, honey, I gotta clean us up,” I whispered.

The snoring stopped and his eyes shot open. He was staring at me intensely, and I tried to figure out what the heck I’d done.

“Awww, boo, you called me honey.” He patted my chest again, let me disentagle myself from him, and promptly went back to snoring.

That was okay. I would clean us up, then I would snuggle in for a snooze as well. We’d had a late night, and there was plenty more work to be done when we woke up.

The next few days flew by in a rush of activity. We ended up volunteering with one of the shelters that was handling the dogs, which enabled us to make sure that they were being treated well and didn’t somehow end up back in fighting rings. Not that we didn’t trust the people we’d set up to handle things; we did, but it soothed something in both of us to see what happened to the dogs. Plus, I could tell when a prospective owner came in who had less than stellar motivation for wanting a dog. We didn’t get many, but we did get one or two, and I warned them off easily enough.

Baby stayed for another night with the vet, and then we were able to bring her home to Milo’s. He insisted I stay over to help take care of “our child,” although Baby slept through the night just fine. She was actually one of the sweetest dogs I’d ever met. She was gentle, easygoing, and loved cuddling up with us to watch television.

It was all very homey and domestic. Milo and I spent a lot of time talking. We covered everything from our families to our favorite movies, and I (thank goodness) did most of the cooking and managed to keep Milo out of the kitchen.

The days were filled with volunteering and visiting his “crew” in the retirement home, and the evenings were spent snuggling with Baby and then heading to bed and having intimate moments together. It was all pretty perfect.

So of course there was bound to be a hiccup or two.

“Don’t you think Baby needs a sibling?” Milo asked as we walked into the pet shelter.

They’d finally closed down the puppy mill, and there was an influx of new dogs to be rehomed. Milo had been making noise about getting another dog since he’d heard.

“No,” I answered. “I thought we agreed we would only give another day or two to the shelter before we moved on to the neo-Nazi problem.”

“What does that have to do with Baby having a sibling?” Milo asked.

“Why does Baby need a sibling?” I countered.

“Fine. Maybe I just want another baby.”

“I think two Baby’s would be one too many. They’d get confused when we called their names,” I responded.

Milo seemed to think that was hilarious, and he was still laughing when we got inside. We parted ways, because the head of the organization liked me vetting the applicants and they liked Milo working with the dogs. He definitely had a way with them, and he didn’t even need to growl to get them to listen.

We were halfway through the day when I heard a lot of “Awww”’s from the back where the dogs were. I really shouldn't have been surprised when Milo called my name. I headed into the back, and most of the dogs looked at me warily. They recognized a bigger, stronger predator in their presence, and they knew better than to call my attention to them. There were a few sweet dogs who whined and just wanted my affection, and I thought that if we needed another dog, one of those might do.

“Rowan! I found our dog!” Milo cried out.

He was surrounded by three other volunteers, and I couldn’t see the dog they were all gushing over. They parted ways when I got there, however, and I had my first look at it.