Scarlet
The forest is lush and humming with late morning birdsong as I push the stroller down the uneven path. It’s wheels bump over moss-covered roots and soft forest leaf mulch. Dappled sunlight glows on the trail ahead, filtering through the trees, and for a moment I think: This might be the happiest I’ve ever been.
Finn trots ahead in wolf form, sleek and silver, his head high and alert. Nixon flanks my left, every inch of him poised and protective, while Reed dashes around us like an excited pup, his black tail wagging like he’s never been this thrilled in his life.
Ahya, still small in her wolf form, does her best to keep up with her daddies, her little legs working triple time. Finn nudges her back into line whenever her childish attention is drawn by something off the path.
I glance down at the stroller where our babies are sleeping.
My heart squeezes tight in my chest.
This is my life now. My heart is filled with two babies, a wild girl, and three huge, protective wolves.
My wolves. My mates.
“You’re glowing, Red,” Reed’s voice slides into my mind, teasing and warm.
“It’s sweat,” I shoot back, grinning. “You try pushing this stroller through a forest incline.”
“I can shift back,” Nixon says, his golden wolf eyes meeting mine.
“No. It’s okay. Be your furry selves for a while.”
If it’s possible, his wolf mouth turns up in a smile.
“You’re still the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen in motion,” Finn adds gently.
I blush, recalling the other part of my body he called pretty last night.
Reed jumps over a fallen tree, shifts mid-air, and lands in a dramatic roll, completely naked, grinning up at me as I approach. “Nailed it.”
“Show-off,” I mutter, stopping just short of laughing.
We reach the clearing, a wide-open glade beside a stream, the water glittering in the sun. It’s perfect. The moment I lock the stroller’s wheels and stretch my arms above my head, Reed rolls onto his back and sighs loudly like he’s dying of hunger.
“Picnic me, woman. Or I’ll start gnawing on your ankles.”
“You’ll get a peanut butter sandwich if you behave,” I reply, tossing a bundle of clothes toward him. “But only if you put pants on first. I mean it this time.”
With an exaggerated groan, he begins to dress while Nixon and Finn shift, steam curling from their bodies as their human forms reappear. Nixon is, of course, already tugging on his jeans like a responsible adult. When Finn has his sweatpants on, he hands Ahya a flower he plucked from the edge of the meadow, and she stares at it like it’s made of diamonds, as he encourages her to step into warm pants and a sweater.
Reed? He’s wearing just a shirt and eating cheese straight from the container.
“Reed,” I say, deadpan.
“What? Wolves don’t wear pants.”
“You are not currently a wolf.”
“Technicality.”
“Reed.” Nixon’s voice carries the growly alpha quality that mine is lacking. Reed lowers his cheese with a sigh.
Once they’re clothed, I unfurl the blanket and sit in the center while the others pile in around me like magnets to steel. Reed flops down first, head in my lap. Finn leans back on one arm, the other gently stroking the babies’ feet. Nixon sits close but alert, eyes scanning the tree line every so often as if danger could ever get close to us with all of them here.
Ahya runs through the grass, chasing a butterfly, her shriek of delight carrying across the glade. She’s got smudges of dirt on her cheeks and one sock missing, but her joy is so pure it makes my throat tight. When she bends to grasp a stick and begins pointing it like a magic wand, I smile.
I brought the picnic in my grandma’s wicker basket. Some sandwiches, homemade muffins, chopped apples, and the cheese Reed has already half demolished. I spread it out, and everyone digs in happily.
I glance around at the scene—the sunlight on Reed’s lashes as he eats his sandwich lying down, Nixon quietly handing chunks of sandwich to Ahya before she runs away, Finn humming while he gathers the wildflowers Ahya has collected so she can take them home—and something inside me settles like puzzle pieces snapping into place. I smile at our sons, who stare up at the tree canopy, kicking their stout legs wildly while their fathers watch proudly, anticipating the day when they too will be able to run with the pack.
This is what peace feels like. Not the absence of danger, but the presence of love. The realization of dreams. A genuine connection and knowing that every part of me belongs and is accepted right here.
“You’re staring,” Nixon says without looking up.
“Just soaking it in.”
Finn leans over and presses a kiss to my shoulder. “You’re happy?”
I nod. “I didn’t know I could be like this.”
Reed cracks one eye open. “I told you. We’re good for you.”
“You’re chaotic and half-feral. And your jeans are unbuttoned,” I reply.
“Semantics,” he mutters, sliding his hand up my thigh with no shame.
Nixon growls low in his throat, but his eyes are warm. “She’s smiling, Reed. Don’t ruin it.”
“I’m enhancing it. I think it might be time to make some more cubs.”
Finn just chuckles, shaking his head.
Ahya runs back to us and throws herself into Nixon’s lap. “There was a dragonfly, Daddy Ni Ni!” she announces. “It landed on my hand and then flew away. I think it was a princess.”
Nixon nods solemnly. “You’re the princess, Ahya. Never forget it.”
She beams.
Later, as the sun dips toward the treetops, my wolves shift again, brushing against me with soft fur and gentle nuzzles. I bury my hands in their coats, whispering my love into each of them. We don’t need words. The bond between us thrums—thoughts, feelings, even little flickers of sensation trickling through our mental connection like static.
I feel Finn’s contentment like the soft blanket that rests on our bed, Reed’s joy like crackling fire, and Nixon’s steady devotion like gravity, pulling me inward, anchoring me. I feel Ahya’s sweet, innocent happiness like warm sunshine on a summer day, and the sweetness of my son’s like honey on the tip of my tongue.
I never thought I’d be someone’s home. But I was never meant to belong to the world I came from.
I was made for this one.
(c) Stephanie Brother 2025
Want to read more paranormal shifter reverse harem romance? Shared by the Bears is a spicy ‘Goldilocks and the three bears’ retelling.
