Raphael’s mind kept looping back to four days earlier, when Verion’s needle had first bitten into human skin and the world had quietly, irrevocably changed.
Four days ago . . .
Morgan was the first to go under the needle. Verion traced the outline on her upper arm, and Morgan screwed her eyes shut, breathing through the sting. When he finished, she blinked down at the design—a bear, fierce and noble, its head turned as if listening for a distant call.
Morgan’s jaw dropped. “A bear? Are you kidding me?” She looked up at Raphael, then Nico, her eyes wide with something between panic and disbelief. “Does this mean–?”
Raphael grinned, the old sarcasm automatic even as something in his chest twisted. “Looks like someone’s got a future in fur coats and fish dinners.”
Morgan shot him a glare. “If my mate ever tries to hibernate for six months, I’m buying an electric blanket and a blow horn.”
Akira snorted. “Just make sure he doesn’t eat you when he wakes up.”
Morgan waggled her brows. “That depends on what you mean by ‘eat,’ Akira.”
“I know who wears that match,” Verion said, motioning to Morgan’s tattoo. “I knew it the minute I drew it.”
Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you look shocked, but also a little pleased?”
Verion shrugged. “It’s hard to imagine this literal bear of a man with a mate. But,” he paused and tilted his head as he took Morgan in. “You might be his perfect match.”
“Who are you speaking of?” Raphael asked.
“Sebastian,” Verion said, glancing over his shoulder at Nico.
The shaman cursed. “Are you kidding me?” He groaned and rubbed his hand down his face. “We did not need this.”
Morgan sat up straighter. “Need what? What are you freaking out about? Is he crazy?”
“Depends on what your definition of crazy is,” Raphael said dryly.
“Pretty sure there’s only onerealdefinition of crazy,” Morgan practically growled. “And that’s bat shit.”
Verion shook his head with a sly smile.
Raphael agreed, enjoying this a little too much. “Sebastion is a retired assassin for the Kingdom of Fur.”
Morgan’s mouth dropped open. Then it closed. Then she frowned. “Wait. Are you saying my mate’s a badass?”
Nico rolled his eyes. “That’s what you gleaned from that info?”
“Technically,” Verion began, “all Damarians are badasses. But, Sebastian is on another level.” He then looked at Nico. “You can’t hold onto this info. The longer you wait to contact Fur, the worse it’ll get. Trust me. Sebastian might be out of the game, but he’s important to King Bjorn, and he won’t like finding out you’ve had his subject’s mate in hiding.”
“Bloody hell,” Nico cursed again.
Raphael ran a hand through his hair. “We can’t risk Morgan being snatched up or used as a pawn, but we can’t keep this quiet forever. If we go to Reese, Kingdom of Fur’s shaman, maybe we can keep it from turning into a bloodbath.”
Verion nodded. “That’s a good idea.”
“I’m mated to an assassin,” Morgan grinned.
“That sheds and eats raw fish,” Miryam pointed out.
“And possibly sleeps for at least 3 months out of the year,” Akira added.
“Nobody asked you two,” Morgan playfully slapped at the two females as she walked over to the couch, leaving the chair next to Verion empty. “You’re just jealous that my mate canprobably kill your mates from 500 yards away. Cuz he’s an assassin.”
“We heard you the first three times, Berenstain,” Akira quipped.
