I blink. Once. Twice.
Before I can even mutter a “hell no,” the screen lights up again. Blue sparkles swirl across the display, forming a little heart that pulses like it’s mocking me.
Your registration is confirmed!
“What? I didn’t touch a thing!” I bark, jabbing uselessly at the screen.
The sparkles swirl faster, like they’re laughing at me, then—ding!
Your match has been found!
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
My jaw tightens. My pulse kicks.
And deep inside, my Badger stirs.
He’s been fairly quiet for weeks—months, even.
Usually only comes out when something threatens my territory or someone screws up the quarterly reports.
But right now, that feral bastard is pacing.
Curious. Interested.
Mate? He rumbles, voice low and gritty in the back of my mind.
“No,” I mutter under my breath. “Absolutely not.”
Could be nice.
He sniffs, sharp claws scraping at the inside of my ribs.
A mate. Someone warm. Soft. Smells like honey.
I grind my teeth.
“Oh, yeah? You just want snacks and someone to scratch behind your ears.”
Maybe. Or maybe it’s time we stop sleeping alone, eh?
I freeze. Because I can feel the sly grin in his tone.
That infuriating, primal part of me—the one that fights, endures, and never lets go—is intrigued.
And damn it, I hate that he might be right.
Because while the rational side of me is fuming about magical consent violations and HR policies, my Badger is already perking up like someone just opened a jar of clover honey.
Mate, he murmurs again, hopeful this time.
I stare at the glittering phone screen, the ridiculous heart still pulsing.
“Great,” I sigh. “Now I’m arguing with myself.”
But when another ding chimes and the app logo flashes a warm, golden glow, then a bunch of dancing snowflakes glitter across my screen and even I can’t deny it.
Something’s shifting.
