Also no.
Nobody deserves to die at the hands of something invisible like a disease. It’s not fair, and it’s not the shifter way. Shifters want to go out in a blaze of glory. We want to go out fighting for our lives, fighting for our freedom, or fighting for the people we love.
Withering away?
That’s not our style.
Yet that’s exactly what my uncle is facing, I realize, as he stares at the crowd gathered around him.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he’s saying to my aunt.
“What the hell, Jacob?” She hisses. “You told me that boy didn’t have his permits. You said his company was an illegal organization. You said a lot of different things to me, and now I find out it’s just because you don’t like birds? They’re fucking birds, Jacob. What are they going to do? Tweet at you?”
My uncle has the decency to look ashamed.
“Dad,” Alastair steps forward. “I can’t let you do this. You can’t move forward with what’s happening.”
My uncle frowns, but he says nothing.
“Mr. Cambridge,” Melanie speaks. “I know that change is hard. It’s difficult for all of us. Even when we’re expecting change, it can be hard to accept and manage, but it still finds us. What you’re doing to Mr. Ridge is wrong. He’s trying to do something good for the next generation of shifters.”
“We don’t need more shifters in this town.”
“But we do need jobs,” Melanie says.
I silently send her some you go girl vibes as I watch my future cousin-in-law demonstrating what a brave badass she is.
“Uncle Jacob, I know that change is hard. You’ve helped make Lyon County a wonderful place. Our city, in particular, is absolutely stunning. You’ve done a wonderful job having extra programs implemented that can help kids in the area. You’re worked to ensure that there are after-school programs and a shifter-friendly curriculum in the schools. You’ve even gone above and beyond to make sure that the healthcare in our county is top notch.”
“That’s true,” Matthew says. “You’ve done all of those things.”
“But Dad,” Alastair says. “It’s time to keep making our city great. It’s time to allow for some change.”
My uncle looks at us for just a moment, but then he shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, kids,” he says. “I know that boy got the permits. I know it. Ridge Construction can’t build those apartments, though.”
“Why not?” My aunt asks.
“Because,” my uncle looks up at my aunt. “They’ll change everything.”
“Yes,” she says, kneeling in front of him. “They’ll change a lot of things. New people always do, but sweetie, not all change is bad. These changes that we’re going through now,” she motions to their hearts. “These changes are part of growing older. They’re part of what makes us alive, but your legacy doesn’t have to die with you, baby.” My aunt tears up as she looks at her mate, and I wonder what that must feel like.
What does it feel like to know that you’re going to lose the person you’ve grown up with?
The person you’ve grown old with?
My uncle, I realize, isn’t just a crabby old man. He’s afraid. He’s scared. In fact, my uncle is horrified at the idea that the world is changing and that he won’t be around to see it. I don’t know if there’s a reasonable solution to this problem. I don’t really know what he should do to get over that fear, but I know that making the right choice is a good first decision.
And I think, suddenly, that my uncle knows this, too.
He looks up at his mate and the rest of us stand silently as we watch them. A million different emotions seem to cross his face as he wrestles so hard with the decision before him. What will he choose? Will he do nothing and watch the city he once loved so dearly burn to the ground? Or will he choose to act? Will he take a stand? Will he decide that yes, he can do this?
“I never told you why I hate other shifters so much,” he says to my aunt. The rest of us seem to be forgotten, and part of me thinks I should leave the room, but I know that if I do, the spell will be broken.
“You never did,” my aunt agrees.
“When I was a little boy, I was on a trip,” he says. “My parents and I were camping.”