The week passed in a steady rhythm of work and laughter.
Each morning, the smell of drying meat and smoke filled the air as the family worked together to prepare the jerky. Evan sliced, seasoned, and laid the strips over the wooden racks Silas had built outside the cave, while the children darted around trying to "help"—mostly by stealing the smallest pieces.
"Leo, that's for storage, not your mouth!" Evan scolded, waving a wooden spatula.
Leo pouted but chewed happily anyway. "But Mama, I was just testing if it's dry enough!"
"You said that yesterday," Evan sighed, but couldn't hold back a smile.
Milo giggled from behind him, hiding another piece behind his back. "I'm helping too!"
"Helping your stomach," Evan muttered.
Silas's deep chuckle came from behind them. "They take after you," he teased softly, hauling a fresh pelt over one shoulder. His emerald eyes glinted under the afternoon sun. "Always sneaking tastes of everything."
Evan huffed. "I'm just making sure no one dies of food poisoning."
"Mm." Silas smirked, a low rumble of amusement in his chest. "And how's that going?"
Evan stuck his tongue out at him. Silas's eyes followed the motion for a fraction too long before he turned back toward the racks, saying nothing.
---
By the end of the week, the cave smelled of herbs, spice, and warmth.
Bundles of dried roots and leaves hung neatly near the fire. Clay jars of taro, sweet tubers, and citrus fruits were sealed for storage. The new hides had been softened and stretched—perfect for blankets, bedding, and winter wraps.
Evan stood at the entrance that evening, hands on his hips, admiring their work.
"Look at that," he said with pride. "We actually look civilized."
Silas's lips twitched faintly. "You sound surprised."
"I am! A week ago, we barely had enough space for sleeping. Now look—organized chaos."
Milo peeked from the inner chamber. "Mama says we're civilized! Does that mean no more bugs in the bed?"
"Only if you stop sneaking snacks there," Evan said without turning. "Bugs love crumbs."
Leo gasped. "You mean they like jerky too?"
"Especially jerky."
The cubs screamed and ran to shake out their furs. Evan burst out laughing, the sound echoing across the stone walls. Silas watched him quietly, the corners of his mouth curving upward—but his gaze lingered longer than usual. There was something softer there, almost unreadable.
---
That night, as Evan finished arranging the last of the new hides, he noticed the silence.
Silas, usually nearby—coiling rope, sharpening tools, or tending the fire—was sitting apart, near the entrance, staring out into the darkness. The soft glow from the firelight caught the edges of his silver-white scales, painting him in a faint shimmer of gold.
He looked… distant. Tense.
Evan frowned, walking closer. "You've been quiet all day. What's wrong?"
Silas didn't look up at first. His tail shifted restlessly across the floor. "Nothing," he said after a moment. "Just… thinking."
"That's what people say when something is wrong," Evan replied, sitting beside him. The air near the cave mouth was cool, brushing against his face. "You don't usually sit out here at night."
Silas exhaled, his jaw tightening slightly. "I'll be spending the night outside."
Evan blinked. "What? Why?"
After a pause, Silas said quietly, "It's… time for my shedding."
Evan tilted his head, confused. "Shedding—as in, your skin?"
Silas nodded once, his emerald eyes glinting faintly. "Yes. My kind renews our scales every few seasons. It will happen soon."
"That's not something to be embarrassed about," Evan said quickly. "It's natural. You can stay here—"
"No," Silas interrupted gently, his gaze still turned toward the moonlit forest. "It's better I don't. My senses become sharper during that time… and my instincts are… harder to control."
Evan frowned. "Control?"
There was a long silence.
Then Silas said, his voice lower than before, "I become sensitive. Easily distracted. Easily… drawn to touch."
Evan blinked once, then twice. It took a second to understand what he meant—and then his face went bright red. "O–oh. Oh."
Silas's lips curved faintly, though his tone remained serious. "I don't want to frighten you. Or do something I shouldn't."
Evan opened his mouth, then closed it again. His heart thudded in his chest. He'd seen Silas's self-control—steady, composed, unshakable. The thought of him not being that… stirred something strange in his chest. Something not entirely fear.
"But… it's cold out there," Evan finally said. "And you'll be alone."
"I'll be fine," Silas replied. "The forest is safer than you think when it fears you back."
Evan didn't smile. "That's not what I meant."
He looked away, fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve. "I just… don't like the thought of you being out there alone."
For a moment, there was only the crackle of the fire between them.
Then Silas turned his head, studying him with that quiet, unreadable gaze again. "Do you want me to stay, then?"
Evan's throat tightened. "It's not that simple."
"No," Silas agreed softly. "It isn't."
His tail brushed against Evan's hand—an instinctive, comforting touch. Evan didn't pull away.
Then, after a long pause, Silas said something that made Evan freeze.
"…Unless you'd rather help me."
Evan blinked, his cheeks heating again. "Help you—with—wait, you mean—?"
Silas's expression softened. "I won't ask that of you," he said quickly. "Not if it brings you pain."
But the gentleness in his voice only made Evan's chest ache more. He turned away, pressing a hand over his face. "You don't understand," he whispered. "My body… it's not like others."
He hadn't told anyone—not fully. The truth about the world he came from, the accident, the experiment gone wrong, and the strange body he'd been born again into.
Neither fully male nor female. Not what this world expected of a "mate."
"It's—broken, it different," Evan said shakily. "I'm broken."
Silas moved before Evan could flinch away—his hands steady but careful, tilting Evan's chin up. His touch was warm, grounding. His emerald eyes glowed faintly in the firelight.
"Evan," he said quietly. "You are not broken."
Evan tried to look away, but Silas held him there, his voice low and sure.
"Your scent, your warmth, your courage—everything about you feels alive. Real. You have made this cave a home again. You've made me want to come back to it. There is nothing in you that is wrong."
Evan's eyes stung. "Then why do I still feel—"
Silas cut him off gently, his thumb brushing away the tear that had escaped down Evan's cheek. "Because others made you believe that. But they are not here. I am."
For a moment, the cave was utterly still. The fire crackled softly. The night wind whispered outside. Evan's heart beat too loudly in his ears.
"Silas…" he whispered.
Silas's voice softened to a murmur. "I see no flaw in you, Evan. Only a mate who shines brighter than the fire."
And before Evan could answer, Silas leaned forward, pressing his lips against Evan's forehead—a kiss that was reverent, not claiming. Then another, softer one on his cheek, where the tear had fallen.
It wasn't hunger. It was quiet promise.
Evan trembled, but not from fear. His fingers curled around the fabric of Silas's sleeve. "What if the kids hear?" he whispered, a shaky laugh escaping him.
Silas smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "They won't. But even if they did—beastmen, young or old, know that affection is no shame. We take pride in it."
Evan huffed, face burning. "You really know how to make a person flustered."
"I only speak truth," Silas said, amusement flickering in his eyes.
Then he shifted closer, until his forehead rested lightly against Evan's. "Let me stay tonight."
Evan swallowed. "Hm"
Then suddenly Silas lifed Evan, who was startled . He walked towards their chamber carrying Evan....
---