“Yes,” Christopher said with a small smile. “Different family lines shift into different animals.”
Sorcha shook her head, amazed. “And all this time, I had no idea. I’ve been writing travel articles about places all over the world, and I never knew something this extraordinary existed right here.”
“There’s more,” Christopher said, his expression growing serious again. “Something about us—about you and me specifically.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “What is it?”
“Shifters have mates,” he said softly. “One person they’re destined for. We recognize them instantly. There’s a connectionthat can’t be explained, a pull that’s impossible to ignore.” He squeezed her hands gently. “I felt it the moment I sensed you, Sorcha. You’re my mate.”
The word echoed through her like a bell being struck.Mate. It explained so much. The instant attraction she’d felt when they first met in the office. The sense of recognition, the feeling of rightness when they were together. And yet…
“That’s why you asked me to stay,” she whispered, pieces falling into place.
“Yes,” he admitted. “But I wanted it to be your choice. I still do. Being my mate doesn’t obligate you to anything, Sorcha. You have free will. I would never trap you here if it’s not what you want.”
Trap. The word triggered something deep inside her. Memories of her mother’s resentment, of hushed arguments overheard as a child, of dreams deferred and bitterness that had poisoned their family from within.
“But you belong here,” she said, pulling her hands from his. “You’ve found your home. You can’t leave.”
“I would,” Christopher said, his voice fierce with conviction. “For you, I would go anywhere.”
Sorcha turned away, wrapping her arms around herself as panic began to rise in her chest. “You say that now, but what about in five years? Ten? Would you resent me for taking you away from this place that calls to your very nature?”
“Sorcha…”
“Or what if I stayed?” she continued, unable to stop the flood of fears now that they’d been unleashed. “What if I gave up my career, my dreams, everything I’ve worked for, only to wake up one day trapped in a small-town life I never wanted? What if I turned into my mother?”
Christopher reached for her, but Sorcha stepped back, needing space to think.
“My mother gave up her dreams to make a life with my father,” she explained, her voice tight with emotion. “She resented him for it even after he died. I swore I would never make that mistake.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that,” Christopher whispered. “We could find a balance…”
“How?” Sorcha demanded. “You need the forest, the mountains. You need to run as a bear under the stars. And I need…” She trailed off, suddenly uncertain what exactly she did need.
Christopher’s eyes were filled with a pain that made her heart ache. “You need freedom,” he finished for her. “I understand that. It’s part of what I love about you. Your spirit, your independence.”
Love. He’d said it so casually, yet the word hit her like a physical blow. He loved her. And God help her, she loved him too. The realization was terrifying in its intensity.
“I need time,” she said, backing away further. “I need to think.”
Before he could respond, Sorcha turned and ran, tears blurring her vision as she stumbled back toward her cabin. Behind her, she heard a mournful sound—not quite human, not quite animal—that tore at her heart.
Once inside her cabin, she leaned against the door, sliding down until she sat on the floor, her face in her hands. The enormity of what she’d learned pressed down on her like a physical weight. Christopher was a shifter. She was his mate. They were bound by something ancient and powerful that transcended ordinary human connection.
And she was terrified.
Not of him—never of him. But of making the wrong choice. Of regret. Of resentment. Of history repeating itself in the most painful way possible.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. With trembling fingers, Sorcha pulled it out and saw her mother’s name on the screen. The timing was so uncanny it almost felt like fate.
“Mom?” she answered, her voice cracking.
“Sorcha? Are you all right? You sound upset,” her mother’s concerned voice came through the line.
“I’m…” Sorcha hesitated, then let out a shuddering breath. “No, I’m not all right. I’m confused and scared, and I don’t know what to do.”
“What’s happened?” her mother asked gently.
