Chapter 77

A month later, Coop was feeling the strain of exhaustion. Every weekend, he spent in the grove, camping by day, far enough away from Kyla that no metal or plastic from his tent would contaminate the grove. As soon as the sun went down, he met up with Kyla, and they would go off to the sacred glade and make love. They'd done things he'd always dreamed of but never believed were possible - his little nymph was utterly uninhibited. Oral, anal, tied up with silken cords - there seemed to be nothing she didn't enjoy. They also spent a surprising amount of time just talking. Coop told her everything about his life, and even though she'd never seen a city, never visited a university, she was bright enough to understand when he complained about campus politics, uninspired students or the silly antics of his cousins, nephews and nieces. She even introduced him to other dryads from the grove, and he spent time talking to them as well. He enjoyed every moment he spent with Kyla, but the schedule was starting to wear him down and his work was suffering. He didn't know how much longer he'd be able to keep it up.
One night, toward the end of November, he asked how dryads, originally from Greece, had ended up here on the Olympic Peninsula, in trees that were native to North America.
"A group of immigrants brought the first of us in saplings," Kyla explained. "When they consecrated the grove, they petitioned the gods to place our souls into native trees. They would then put the Greek saplings in their gardens but leave the native grove untouched. The gods agreed. My grandmother was one of the original nymphs. So was Xera. I was born here, as was my mother. Alders are not as long-lived as firs."
"But I thought nymphs were immortal," he said. "Once your tree died, couldn't you find another?" He didn't even want to contemplate the idea of her dying. The thought burned a hole through his stomach - or maybe it was his heart. Had he fallen in love with Kyla?
Of course he had. Now if that wasn't just the stupidest damn thing ever. He wiggled his toes in the pool where they sat, having just bathed after making love.
"My grandmother did so - she still lives. My mother was killed - her tree was felled by lightning and she died in the explosion. Like other immortals, nymphs can be killed."
"I'm sorry. What about your father?" She'd never explained that aspect of nymph biology - there weren't any male nymphs that he'd ever heard of.
"My father was a hiker - my mother seduced him one night. As long as we remain tied to a tree, all our children are daughters and also dryads. As soon as we are born, our mothers find us a sapling of our own."
"So, if we're still together in springtime - our child would also be a dryad?"
She nodded, giving him a shy smile. "I would like that," she said softly. "But - I am not sure you would. You would want to be with your child, wouldn't you? The way you talk of your family - that kind of connection is something we never have when we spend most of our lives buried in a tree."
Cooper squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. "I - I've thought about having a family with you too, sweetheart. But not like that, no. I couldn't have a daughter who I'd never get to hold, to raise. I'm sorry."
She shrugged and smiled. "I understand. We have several moons before we must worry. I would still enjoy them with you, Cooper. I hope you feel the same."
He dragged her into his arms for a long, drugging kiss. Even though he'd just come inside her, his cock hardened again, as it always did when they touched.
And a gunshot echoed through the glade, followed by a scream that ricocheted through his skull.
"Xera!" Kyla pulled away from him and scrambled up the slope to the edge of the glade. "There is something wrong in the grove."
"Wait here!" Coop shifted into wolf form and shot past Kyla. Using telepathy, he reinforced the warning. She'd told him she could be killed, especially when she was in human form. Still, he wasn't surprised to hear her running behind him as he dashed toward the grove.
A dead buck lay in the center of the clearing, one hunter kneeling to field dress the deer while another stood nearby.
"I think we should camp here, Harve," one man said. "Cut some branches off that fir to build a shelter, will you? I'll hang the buck on that alder to bleed out."
"What about bears?" his friend asked. "Won't they be attracted to the meat?"
The hunter shrugged. "We'll take turns keeping watch. Won't break my heart to bag a grizzly along with an eight-point."
"Sounds good to me." The man called Harve pulled a knife and walked toward Xera.
No! Xera's panicked cry echoed in Cooper's head. Metal would defile the tree - she'd have to move.
Coop stepped out from under the tree, snarling at Harve.
"Holy shit, Frank, it's a wolf."
"So shoot it, you wimp."
Now Coop knew they were poachers. It was illegal to hunt wolves in this state. When Harve pulled a pistol from his belt instead of backing off, Coop leapt, biting hard into Harve's arm before the man could fire. Then Coop backed away quickly, noting that Frank had picked up an automatic rifle - also definitely illegal.
Coop leapt, but he knew he was too late. Bullets slammed into him before he hit the man, knocking Frank to his back. None were lethal, not to a werewolf, but the pain was overwhelming. At least the fall had knocked Frank out. Coop turned his head and saw Kyla standing above an equally unconscious Harve, a branch held high in her hands.
"Cooper, do you live?" He heard the tears in her voice - for him. Despite the pain, he smiled.
Yes, he said mentally. Tie them up, please - they have rope. And bandage Harve's arm. In the morning I'll drag them to the ranger station and leave them there to be found. His wounds would be healed by sunrise - he could already feel his body pushing the bullets out. He could also feel unconsciousness closing in. I'll be fine, but I have to sleep. I love you, Kyla.
I love you too, Cooper, was the last thing he heard before the blackness closed over him.
Cooper woke in the morning, fully healed. He was still in his fur, curled beneath Xera's sheltering branches, though a few rays of warm sunshine trickled through.
A soft hand stroked his fur. Are you awake, my love?
Kyla? That couldn't be right. It was daylight.
I couldn't leave you, she said into his mind, both hands gripping his fur as he looked up into her eyes. I have abandoned my tree.
Cooper shifted, sitting up to cup her face in his hands. "Kyla, how could you? I'd have never asked you to do that! I told you I'd be fine."
"I know. But...when I came so close to losing you, I realized I couldn't bear it."
"But what will you do?" He gazed into her eyes, torn between hope and fear about what she would say next.
"You said you love me, Cooper Marceski. Was that the truth?" She bit her lip, a gesture so human, he had to smile.
"It was. I love you more than I ever knew was possible," he replied. "Will you come with me, Kyla? Be my mate, even though I live in the human world?"
"Oh yes, yes, yes!" She threw herself into his arms and they kissed, hard and deep. "You said you know someone who can get me papers, right? I can stand beside you and be your real wife?"
"Of course." False papers were a part of everyday life among immortals. One of his cousins could arrange that in a matter of hours. "Will you marry me, Kyla? As the humans do? I love you more than life."
She already said yes, you brainless fur ball. Now get rid of those...defilers, and then get her some clothing.
He stood, holding out his hand to Kyla, his mate. When she stood beside him, he turned and bowed to Xera. Thank you, friend. We will come back to visit, I promise.
He could practically sense the tree rolling her eyes.
Name a cub after me then. Now get.
Coop turned to Kyla, who'd been busy saying her own goodbye. Tears glistened on her cheeks, but she smiled broadly. "I am ready, my love. Let us go."
"Follow me then." He picked one of the poachers up over each shoulder and headed off toward the ranger station where he dumped them, weapons and all, where they'd be sure to be found. The weapons alone would ensure they'd be arrested.
When that was finished, Coop took Kyla to his camp and dug out a pair of running shorts and a T-shirt that came to her knees. Of course they had to take a break to make love on his bedroll.
Finally, hand in hand, they hiked toward home and the beginning of their long, long life - together.

The End