“For females, it is an aphrodisiac that will ready their bodies and make the need to take us almost violent. If we touch them when they scent us,” he says heavily, that last part sounding like an accusation that he growls out angrily.
Bear. He touched me, I think dazedly, bits and pieces of that day replaying in my mind’s eye. When Julia was accusing him of being hung up on some woman and I laughed. He grabbed my arm and stopped me from leaving.
“What, what happens…?”
“If a male scents his Fated, and then makes skin-to-skin contact, it sets off what we call heat. The female will become more than aroused. Her body will get hot, almost as if she’s taken a fever, and then…ahem, her sexual parts will swell and moisten to prepare her body for breeding.”
Lord. I remember that.
I remember feeling turned on all the time, despite being sick and dazed and tired. That arousal kept me from sleeping and got so bad one night I thought I would claw the skin from my body.
It was awful, feeling as if I could have sex with anyone just to stop the lust that made me sick with its intensity.
Nick looks uncomfortable discussing this, and I myself am not too happy with the subject, but the more he talks, the angrier I become because I know, that voice inside me knows, that what he’s saying is true. I was in heat, like an animal, and that bastard Bear did this to me.
“Breeding? Like…?”
“The heat is very hard and very one-track minded, if I can say it that way. It’s a force, a life all its own, and it has one objective…reproduction. Our kind are doomed to claim and put our young in our females. It’s not a bad thing really because who doesn’t want to see the female he loves carrying his seed, but during this time, in the full grip of heat, it is imperative that the female be taken. It doesn’t always end in pregnancy, not since the invention of contraceptives and our race’s change in culture. Nowadays couples don’t just have babies because of the heat, but rather choose if they are ready. Modernization.” He snorts, making my lips twitch.
“If I were to believe all of this, and I am so not saying I do,” I assure him, my voice trembling on the necessary denial, “but if I were to believe, then I don’t understand what happened or what is going on. Are you telling me that your son put out those…scents for me and then touched me?” I ask, hating that my chest hurts.
It shouldn’t hurt to know that he messed up and did this to me and then left me to suffer. I do not know the man, no matter what my body and part of my mind insists, and I don’t want to—
I don’t!
“He lost control and grabbed you, sending you into heat,” Nick confirms somberly, stalking over to the mantle and staring into the empty hearth.
“But, but I’m not a shifter.”
“It doesn’t matter. We mate with humans and other breeds alike. If our Fated crosses our path, we don’t get to choose based on race. Or gender,” he says, making me blink before my face splits in a smile.
“Oh man, listen to this, a people who aren’t homophobes,” I muse, making Prissy smirk.
“We don’t care about who it is, when that biology takes over, it’s done. Of course, some of our kind have forsaken their Fated due to circumstance—whether that be a personal dislike of that person or…”
“Or if one of them is already in love with someone else,” I finish for her, guessing that her discomfort stems from her son having royally screwed me before running back home to…what did Julia call her, the golden pussy?
Nick growls, resuming his pacing, and mutters something unpleasant beneath his breath.
“The law dictates that I cannot force a mating, or I’d have had that little shit over here already, fulfilling his duties.”
Oh, hell no! No way am I getting…married to a guy who looked at me like I was dog poop under his shoe. I may be all alone, and I may be lonely sometimes, but no way in hell will I ever be needy and desperate enough to be with someone who despises me, I think.
Trust me, from the way Bear spoke before, and the way he looked at me the one day I met him, that man loathes me.
It’s not my fault, and my inner harpy rages that I should kick his ass and tell him in no uncertain terms that I don’t want his ugly ass anyway—I lie sometimes, okay! Deal with it—but I know that with the soup of emotions stewing inside me, my best bet would be to just stay away and pretend this never happened.
Which means I need to get the hell out of here.
After I listen to everything he has to say of course. No sense leaving out information.
“No thanks, and I like mean that in the worst way. Your son is an asshole. A major asshole, who not only started this mating thing inside me but also tried to make scrambled egg of my brains. I have been sick, in pain, and on the verge of having myself committed for weeks, and what did that bastard do? He came home and went on with his life. And why? Why would he do such a messed-up thing to me, someone who didn’t deserve it? Because by some fucked up quirk of fate it turns out that I am like his biological…whatever. It’s not my fault fate made us a pair, or whatever it’s called, and yet I am the one who suffered,” I tell them, hating the shame they both feel flashing in their eyes.
Hey look, I am a nice person, okay, but I won’t lie just to make things easier on other people. With me, it’s honesty, and if you don’t want that, then I would rather just not say anything. For now, I think they need to know that I despise Bear, too. Some. I’m trying for more, but my damn psyche isn’t up to speed yet.
“Meek, we know that—”
“Do you, because I have to say that this is all a lot to take in. Couple that with the fact that I—for real—died because of what he did, and you know what, I take it back, I don’t despise him, I hate him. I had a life that was just fine before he marched his beefy ass into it. I have a job, commitments that I can’t afford to let slide, and you know what, I didn’t ask for this! If he’d just kept his hands to himself, then it would have been fine. Let’s be clear here! I wasn’t the one who touched him like some sick nympho, although God knows all that scent he was putting off was not easy to control!” I screech, getting worked up the more I remember that day and then what happened in the alley.
Do they think…? Does he think that I enjoyed being out of control to the point I climbed a complete stranger and attempted to violate him? I did not!
I do not like knowing that I kissed him and rubbed my junk all up on his business. I hate and feel extreme shame, knowing that I didn’t care that he doesn’t want me. It was and is humiliating to recall that I would have, and likely did let him know, that I was willing to spread for him right then and there just to have him…
I can’t even say it shames me so deeply, but it’s true nonetheless. I didn’t care about my virginity, my morals, or what would happen after, and to make it all the worse, I know that it sickened him to the point that he brain raped me!
“Well dear, I mean brain rape is a little strong.” Prissy says uncomfortably, making me aware that I’ve been yelling my every thought out loud.
I gasp, stopping my tirade, and blush a deep crimson before taking a deep breath and willing my emotions to calm.
“Look, I get it, okay. He’s your son, and I’m sure he’s not all that bad and I shouldn’t blacken his name. I just, do you think I asked for this? I was just a normal girl, trying to work to support my mom and he.... he almost killed me,” I say softly, blinking back tears when Prissy sniffles and looks away. “All I want to do is go home and forget this ever happened.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible, Mika.” Nick says heavily, making my heart drop down to my toes.
“What? Why? Of course, I have to leave.”
“Mika…dammit, I, when Bear sent you into heat and scrubbed you he must have blood marked you in some way without completing the bond. Fated aren’t just mates, it’s a lot more. When you bond with your true mate, it entails a blood claim that binds you to that person irrevocably.”
“So unbind me!” I d
emand, cringing when I think of the way I attacked Bear’s mouth and the coppery taste that invaded my senses during that kiss.
Oh God, no, please tell me it was not me that started this…bond thingy. I mean, of course it wasn’t me! This is not my fault. It’s all Bear’s because…because he’s an asshole and I hate him and—
“I can’t,” Nick says heavily, stopping my inner rant in its tracks.
“What? No, of course you can. What do I need to do? Cluck like a chicken and howl at the moon three times? What? Just tell me and I’ll do it.”
“Mika, honey…the bond is not reversible. It’s…there. Tell me, can’t you hear better? See better? Feel things more intensely now?” he asks.
“Well, I mean a little,” I whisper, biting my lip because it’s true.
There’s a fly in the room, and I can tell you right now, down to the centimeter where the sucker is, and that he’s currently shitting on the fourth fold of the drapes. Dammit.
“That’s the bond. If completed, it would slowly change your DNA just enough that you’d take on Bear’s healing abilities and enhanced senses. For now, it’s muted, but it is there, and it won’t ever go away.”
“Okay. I can deal with extra senses and healing! I mean that’s cool,” I say, kinda digging the thought of hearing people’s conversations on the sly.
It will be like having a super power, right?
“Yes, but can you deal with leaving here and dying in a week?” he asks, the harshness of his words bringing me to a screaming halt.
“What?”
“You will need blood for the rest of your life to ensure that the changes in your body won’t kill you. For shifters, losing the bond if a mate dies is almost fatal, but for a human, it would be deadly. If you leave here, your body and that bond would slowly deteriorate and die. As it is, I don’t know how your own wolf is surviving this,” he says darkly.
“Wolf? What wolf? I’m human.”
“Partly. Haven’t you heard her inside you?”
Shit. Shit fuck. Fuck. Dammit. Dammit it all to hell and back. Dammit. I do not want to even think about—
Don’t freak out on me. I’m just a part of you, a part of your mind, the voice soothes, calming me enough that I don’t start screaming and checking my body for sprouting hair.
Jesus. Again I say this with a Spanish-Mexican accent because I am already screwed enough that I don’t want to add going to hell to my list of giggles.
“So, I, dammit, please do not tell me I’m going to sprout hair and a set of teeth and bark at the moon.”
Nick grins, Prissy giggles, and I so do not appreciate the large amount of humor they’re feeling right now because it’s insulting.
“No, honey. Only shifters change form. You’re human, so the change will reflect that. You’ll be stronger, heal faster, your senses will be more intense, but you’ll still be you.”
“Yeah, only I could die,” I point out morosely.
“Not if you stay here with us and keep letting me and Prissy give you blood. Our DNA has enough markers in it to match Bear’s and fool your body into thinking he’s blooding you.”
“Blooding me?”
“It’s a part of mating. We lay claim and mark our females, and a part of that includes sharing a small amount of blood to keep our scents in them on a cellular level. Your body already has Bear’s blood mark, but it will need a constant injection without the completed bond,” he explains, pissing me off more with every word.
That no good—
“But…but I can’t…I have a life. My mom. She’s in a home, and I need to look after her and pay for it and, and I can’t do that if I don’t work and…”
Do not cry, Mika Blithe. Just breathe and take it one moment at a time, my voice soothes.
Prissy sighs, and I feel that shot of maternal comfort wash over me when she pushes me to lie down and strokes my hair gently.
“It’s going to be okay, Mika. We’re family now, and we’ll help you in any way we can. Nick can take care of the expenses—”
“No. That’s my responsibility. She’s my mom. No, I can…does this mean I can’t ever leave? What about my friends and my job and my apartment and—”
“We’ll take care of it, sweetheart. I promise. Just rest now and regain your strength, and I promise you, we will make this right,” he promises, smiling when my eyes blink and start drifting closed.
I am suddenly so tired, so, so tired, and all I can think is that I need to escape the fear clawing at my guts and maybe look at it all tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow, I think, letting sleep claim me.
Tomorrow.
Chapter Seven
Meek
I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my body, avoiding the urge to start thinking again because no matter how much of it I do, it never solves anything and only makes me anxious.
After my little talk with Nick and Prissy yesterday, I slept for hours and then woke with the moon high and shining through the bedroom window—with the house so quiet I could hear every creak of wood.
I spent at least an hour just lying there and cataloguing my new senses, and you know what, I don’t think I like this! I could smell my own breath and the very dire need for toothpaste and that is just not right!
To have such a good sense of smell that my own body grosses me out is not a good thing. I miss being normal and not knowing that I need to bathe or that sometimes an ass-crack can smell funky.
Mine smelled fuuunky, as did the speck, and I mean speck, of vomit that was still in my hair that was so stinky I almost picked myself bald to get it out.
It was so minute I still can’t believe how bad it smelled or that my nose is now that sensitive. Besides the hearing, which is not great because I swear I heard moaning of the sexual variety at one point—just not cool—I also feel…more.
The air on my skin feels different, as do fabrics, and hell, it’s as if every nerve ending I possess is alive with it all. All the time. This shit is going to take getting used to, I can tell you that.
After that not so great hour I finally let myself think about where I am and the situation I am in. Now granted, I could totally not believe any of this, pretend that it’s all bukkake, and get the hell out of here.
The thing is, I do believe it, and the more it sinks in, the more certain I become that my life as I once knew it is over. I can’t go home and live my life and then just die. I don’t want to die, and as self-centered as that sounds—I know I should be mature and only think of Mom and the people I love—it’s true.
I do not want to die. I want to live and have love and babies and all that happy shit that women want because I have a vagina and it’s inbuilt. At least in me.
I always dreamed of finding my one, having a family, a home, and doing all that weird ass froufrou shit that we don’t want to admit we like. I want to bake for my kids and do all that domesticated stuff that Mom used to do for me and Dad—and be…alive.
I know, I know, I’m repeating, but that life part is very important to me because without it I’d be dead, and despite what religion tells us, that does not sound fun.
One thing I have always been sketchy on is what happens after. Like, okay, say I die, and sure, wishful thinking dictates I’ll go to heaven, but then what? So I’m all rocking the white robes and jamming on a cloud and basking in the peace and glory of the afterlife. Then what?
I so do not see me twiddling my thumbs in the Shangri La for eternity with no purpose. What if I get bored like three days in, and the angels boot me out to…the bad place?
What if I can’t sustain the pure, peaceful vibe and decide I need more stimulation. I haven’t even had sex yet, and no way am I dying before that because I just know that in heaven there isn’t sex.
How would I keep busy?
That little breakdown led to more resentment, and I finally accepted that I can’t leave if I want to live. I finally got that at about three this morning while staring out of the window at some hot dude who came
out of the trees as a very big-looking dog and became a hot, big dude right in front of my eyes.
I shit you not, I saw it. After I saw that, I sort of passed out from hyperventilating and then came to with a bang and a little more panicking.
It took a while for it all to sink in, like in-in. Then, I was just like, damn, I am so screwed, and I do need to stay, even if the bad part of me had been secretly hatching an escape plan that didn’t include my conscious mind.
So, I accepted, and despite what everyone says, acceptance is not the all-healing, nerve-calming emotion that I thought it could be. It was hard to deal with until I got too tired, and bored to think about it anymore.
What? You can really only chew on an issue for so long before your mind wanders, okay.
Acceptance.
I fell asleep for an hour after I got all mature about shit and then woke up with my vagina screaming at me for a wash. And now here I am. All clean, thank you God, and at odds with what I should do now.
My mind feels clear, my body is coursing with energy and—
What the fuck!
I stop in the act of drying myself and blink at my hips where a growth surge during puberty left me with a few sliver tiger claws and can hardly believe my eyes when I look again—only to see…nothing.
My skin is completely smooth and glowing a healthy golden pink. Dropping the towel, I rush to the full-length mirror in the corner and swipe at the steam, my eyes going wide when I get a load of my body.
No stretch marks, no cellulite on my big ass, and even more jaw dropping, my hair is hanging at my hips in a golden swathe of shining glory where before it only reached just above my waist.
What the—?
“Mika?”
I hear a rap at the bathroom door and ignore it, bending at the waist to peer at my vagina. The sight makes my mouth curve into a triumphant smile, and I almost whoop when I take another gander and check out my junk.
Man, oh man!
I mean, I had a nice powder puff before, but this is just…cool.
There’s no hair! None. Nada. Zeeeero.
Greyriver Shifters Page 7
