"Come on out, Liam," I said softly. "It's just Butch. He's our president. Our alpha. He's not going to hurt you."
Slowly, reluctantly, Liam shifted to stand beside me rather than behind me. His body remained tense, poised to run at the first sign of danger. I resisted the urge to put my arm around him, sensing he wasn't ready for that level of contact.
"Butch," I said, my voice steadier than I felt, "Liam is a shifter. A lynx. And... he's my mate."
I’d been waiting my entire life to say those words.
Butch's eyebrows shot up, but he controlled his reaction quickly. "I see." His gaze shifted to Liam, assessing but not unkind. "Welcome to the club, then."
Liam didn't respond, his eyes fixed on the floor.
"There's more," I continued. "He doesn't know anything about being a shifter, about mates, about any of it." I felt a growl building in my chest as I thought about the implications. "He was abandoned when he was seven years old. Been on his own ever since."
Butch's expression darkened. We'd seen enough cases like Bug and the fox brothers to know what happened to young shifters without protection.
It rarely ended well.
"I see," he repeated, his voice gentler this time. "That explains a few things."
He looked at Liam again, then back to me. "Take him to your room. Get him cleaned up. Fed. We can sort out the rest tomorrow."
I nodded, gratitude washing through me.
"And Rooster?" Butch added, his tone dropping to ensure Liam couldn't hear. "Make sure you explain everything before you even think about claiming him. Kid's been through enough without being blindsided by a mating bite."
"I know," I assured him. The thought of rushing Liam into anything made my stomach turn. He'd had enough choices taken away from him already.
"Good," Butch said. "I'm going to check on Treat and Doby. Someone should be tucking that cub in right about now."
As he walked away, I turned to look at Liam, who was watching me with wary confusion. Those golden eyes seemed to see right through me, questioning everything I'd just said.
My mate. The thought still felt surreal, like I might wake up and find this had all been some concussion-induced hallucination. But the scent of him was unmistakable, and my bear knew with absolute certainty that we had finally found what we'd been searching for all these years.
Now I just had to explain what that meant to someone who'd been alone far too long. Luckily, I knew just the place to do it.
“Come with me,” I said as I tugged him down the hallway. My private room was nothing fancy—just a space off the kitchen where I could crash between cooking shifts without having to trek upstairs.
A double bed took up most of the room, with a small dresser and chair by the window making up the rest of the furniture. But it was clean, it was private, and most importantly, it had a door that locked from the inside. I figured Liam would appreciate that last feature the most.
"This is my space," I explained as I flicked on the light. "Nobody comes in here without my permission."
I deliberately moved to sit in the chair by the window, positioning myself as far from the door as possible. The message was clear: I wasn't blocking his escape route if he needed to bolt. My head still throbbed like a son of a bitch, but I ignored it.
Some things were more important than pain.
Liam hovered in the doorway, golden eyes taking in every detail of the room. I recognized the calculation in that gaze—he was mapping exits, assessing threats, planning escape routes. I'd seen the same look in Bug's eyes when he first arrived.
After a long moment, he stepped inside and perched on the very corner of the bed nearest the door. His posture remained tense, ready to spring up at the first sign of danger. The kid had clearly spent years perfecting the art of quick getaways.
"So," I began, keeping my voice gentle, "I'm guessing no one ever explained to you what being a shifter means."
Liam shook his head, a quick, sharp movement.
"Have you ever lived with other shifters? A lynx clan maybe?"
Another head shake.
"How long have you known you could shift?"
