I hesitated briefly. “You mentioned something at the bar the other night.”
Connor’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “I mentioned several things.”
“The mate thing.”
The humor in his eyes softened. “Oh.”
I rested my hands on my hips and looked out toward the road. “You said it sounded like she might be my fated mate.”
Connor nodded slowly. “Yeah.” Connor folded his arms loosely. “Most shifters grow up learning about it. Pack culture, traditions, all that.”
I exhaled slowly. “Can you explain it to me? Refresh my memory?”
Connor looked out across the parking lot. “A fated mate is exactly what it sounds like. Sometimes two people meet and something in the bond between them… recognizes the other.”
“Recognizes?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged slightly. “You feel pulled toward them. Protective. Focused. Your instincts get louder around them.”
My jaw clenched.
Connor watched me carefully. “You start thinking about them constantly. Their safety matters more than anything. Their happiness matters more than anything.”
My stomach twisted.
Connor continued. “The connection can be intense. Sometimes overwhelming.”
“That sounds accurate.”
“Yeah.”
I looked down at the ground. “How would someone know for sure?”
Connor gave a short laugh. “If you’re asking the question…” He tilted his head slightly. “You probably already know.”
Silence settled between us.
I thought about Zoey.
The way my entire body reacted when she walked into a room.
The way every instinct in me tracked her movement, her safety, her comfort.
The way the idea of losing her had felt unbearable.
Connor spoke again. “There’s another part to it.”
I looked back at him. “What?”
He hesitated slightly before continuing. “If both people choose it, the bond can be completed.”
“How?”
Connor held my gaze. “With a claiming bite.”
The words hung between us.
“You bite her,” he said quietly. “During. It seals the connection. Locks it into place.”
