“What did you mean bykeep from claimingme?”
I want to scoop Maisy up in my arms and carry her back to the bedroom, but I can tell she’s not interested in my comfort right now.She wants an explanation.
I yank the band off my arm and deposit the needles in the sharps container.“Come–let’s sit down.I can explain the biology of mates.”
Maisy stalks back into the bedroom, but instead of sitting down, she pulls on clothes, like she’s feeling vulnerable and needs to cover up.
Shifters aren’t shy about being naked, but–so it’s not weird–I also yank the sweatpants that my brothers had on the party bus back on.
“Have a seat,” I invite.
“No, I’m good.”She folds her arms across her chest.
This really isn’t going well.The needle must’ve been more triggering than I even imagined.She must think I’m a junkie or an addict.But she has it wrong.I do have an addiction–but it’s not to a drug.I’m addicted to her.The Moon Cure is to treat that vice.
“According to the lore, every shifter has one true mate.Supposedly, it’s orchestrated by fate.As a scientist, I hypothesize that it’s actually related to biology.”
Maisy stares at me without reaction, so I plunge on.Science is my go-to when things get tough.I studied medicine after my parents’ death as a means to control my surroundings when things felt out of control.When Winnie, our adoptive mother, grew sick, I was grateful I understood the biology beneath her illness, so I could save her.Then, when I found my fated mate lived in my small town and was far too young for me, I developed Moon Cure to keep my bear in check.
Once Maisy hears the science behind our connection, she’ll understand everything.
“Shifters know their ‘fated mate’”--I use air quotes around the phrasefated mate– “by scent.Because there’s only one mate per shifter, and yours could be anywhere on the planet, only about one in twenty shifters find their mates although I’d like to set up a survey and compile the data from the last twenty years because that number may be changing.Another thing that has changed in the last ten years is a surge in the number of fated mates with humans.”I indicate her with my open palm.
Her lips tighten into a thin line.She takes a step backward, like she wants more space between us which doesn’t make sense.
“Once a male shifter finds his fated mate, he will mark her, permanently embedding his scent into her skin through a mating bite to let other males know she’s taken.”
Maisy’s fingers drift to the place I nearly marked her, and she rubs the skin there.
“In order to increase the chances of finding your fated mate, shifters attend mating games around the world.The chances of me finding my fated mate in the same small town where I live must be miniscule, and yet, there you were.”I extend my palm to her again with a smile, but she doesn’t smile back.
“If a male shifter finds his mate but doesn’t claim her, or if an alpha shifter never finds and marks a mate, he can go moon mad.Basically, he turns feral, unable to shift from his animal form back to human form.When that happens, they have to be put down for the safety of both the shifter and human communities.”
Maisy still doesn’t speak, so I plow on.“I developed Moon Cure to treat the onset of moon madness.I use vampire blood.”
“Vampires?”She blinks.I guess she doesn’t know about vampires yet.
“Yes, but never mind about that.The point is, I am only taking this medicine to prevent hurting you.”
“You’d never hurt me.”
“But I want to.I want to mark you.”
“So…” Maisy seems to work to swallow, “You developed Moon Cure, so you wouldn’t mark me?”
I smile at her.Shedoesunderstand.“Exactly.”
“Because you didn’t want to mate me.”
I frown, suddenly hating the direction this is going.“No.Because you were too young.Maisy, you were only fifteen when you hit puberty, and I realized you were my mate.Claiming you would’ve been wrong in every way.”
Her lips part in shock.Her face turns white.She steps back, like I’ve struck her.
What did I do?
I reach for her, and she steps back again.“I need a moment.”
Maisy
