Page 21

Chapter 20

Horace

P ushing myself to shift from human to Bear and back again in less than a minute is a fuck-ton more difficult than I can explain.

It’s like trying to force a tidal wave into a teacup— painful, disorienting, unnatural —but I do it anyway.

Because I have to.

Because there is no way in hell I’m letting Carina hit the floor.

I see it the moment her eyes roll backward, the instant her knees start to buckle.

She’s going down.

And she’s going down hard.

Fuck.

A low growl rumbles in my chest— Grrrr —a primal, panicked sound I can’t suppress.

Fear claws at me, trying to distract me, trying to slow me down, but I push through it.

I ignore the screaming female who just joined us.

I ignore Uncle Uzzi’s calm, soothing words.

I ignore everything except for her.

My mate.

I push through the pain, through the impossible strain of forcing my body back into human form faster than it should be able to go.

My bones snap, shift, reform.

My fur recedes.

And just as my hands become hands again, I catch her.

She lands against me, soft and warm and utterly unconscious, and my entire body locks down, wrapping around her protectively.

Everything else fades away.

I don’t give a single damn about the shouting, the chaos, or the fact that my own head is spinning from shifting so fast.

All that matters is Carina.

I cradle her against me, tucking her closer to my chest as I stride toward the bedroom. Her scent fills my lungs—sweet basil, warm sunshine.

It is intoxicating, uniquely her—and it soothes something deep inside me.

I set her down gently, so gently, as if she might break.

Then, reality hits me like a freight train.

I’m still naked.

Shit.

Grumbling to myself, I yank a pair of sweats from the dresser and shove them on. I don’t think it’s a good idea to be naked when she wakes up.

I mean, on one hand, yeah—of course I want to be naked with my mate when she wakes up. That would be ideal.

But on the other hand, the last thing I want is to put her in an uncomfortable or compromising position.

She’s already overwhelmed. Already teetering on the edge of freaking the fuck out.

So.

No nudity.

Not until she’s ready.

And judging by the absolute shitshow I’ve created with this whole situation?

Who the hell knows when that will be?

Fuck. My. Life.

* * *

It’s been about forty-five minutes, and Carina is still out cold.

Forty-five minutes.

I’ve counted every single one.

I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, fingers twitching, my Bear restless inside me, clawing at my insides with anxiety.

Every second she stays unconscious feels like another step closer to disaster.

“Explain to me what happened one more time,” Carina’s other sister, MJ, says, crossing her arms over her chest.

She’s standing next to Dina—short for Geraldine. And MJ, apparently, is short for Marianne Jeanne.

Which, in any other situation, might be useful information. But right now? Right now, it’s just one more thing buzzing around in my overloaded brain.

To make shit worse, Doug is here, too.

Fucking nosy-ass Wolf.

The bastard has a nose for trouble, although right now it is busted up something awful.

Looks like one of the people on that reality show that depicts botched plastic surgeries.

He will probably be fine in a day or so, but right now that shit is ugly.

And as usual, his timing is impeccable.

Fucking Doug.

Sure enough, he showed up not ten minutes after everything went down, acting like he was invited to this absolute shitshow of a morning.

Now my penthouse— my den —is filled with way too many damn people.

And I only want one of them here.

Carina.

How the hell did things go so wrong so fast?

Uncle Uzzi— bless his ancient, devious, matchmaking soul —takes the lead on explaining everything.

His magical dating service.

The shift from traditional matchmaking to a new supernatural dating app.

And, of course, the entire supernatural secret, which he firmly states must remain just that— a secret .

There’s a lot of gasping. A lot of “oh my Gods,” and “you’ve gotta be kidding me,” and “this is some Twilight-level bullshit,” thrown around.

Dina’s eyes are wide as saucers as she looks back and forth between Uzzi and me.

“So you’re a Shifter,” she says, pointing at me.

Then she turns to Uzzi. “And you’re a Witch?”

Uncle Uzzi sighs dramatically, smoothing his pristine white beard. “Technically, dear, I prefer the term Magical Matchmaking Consultant, but yes, that would be accurate.”

I grunt, rubbing my hand over my face.

Dina and MJ resemble Carina, their dark eyes sparking with the same kind of intelligence and fire that makes my mate so irresistible. And my Bear?

My Bear already sees them as family.

But they are not her.

No one compares to the beauty of my mate.

My mate.

I swallow hard. Will she agree to that?

Will she forgive me? Accept my claim?

Or will she wake up, tell me I’m out of my damn mind, and walk out of my life forever?

The thought twists like a blade in my chest.

I’ve seen what a broken mate bond can do.

My father had the unfortunate experience of claiming a human mate—my mother—before explaining what he was. She’d been religious, and while she agreed to have me, she didn’t stick around for the rest of it.

I watched my father carry that devastation for the rest of his life.

It broke him.

Slowly.

Painfully.

Until it killed him.

And now, the ball is in Carina’s court.

All I can do is wait.

Wait.

And pray like hell that I don’t end up like my father.

“So, you’re saying this big guy is a fuzzy wuzzy Bear?” MJ asks, and I raise my eyebrows.

“Easy with the fuzzy wuzzy shit,” I growl.

“Well, technically, she’s right,” Dina corrects me, and I snort.

Yep. They’re definitely like sisters already.

“But you won’t hurt her, right? I mean she’s had bad boyfriends,” MJ says, and clearly she is ready to stick up for Carina.

I want to maim all her exes too, so I understand, and I admire that she wants to protect my Sweetheart from me.

Even if it isn’t necessary.

“I will never hurt her. She is my fated mate. Bear would cut me up if I even thought about it, which I won’t. I can’t. All I want is to make her happy. I love her,” I say, and hold my hands up helplessly.

Both women nod their heads, accepting my claim just like that. And it calms something inside of me.

“So, you see, darlings,” Uzzi continues, his voice smooth as silk as he explains fated mates, “this is a magnificent gift from the multiverse.”

I barely hear him.

Somewhere on the periphery of my consciousness, his words blend into the background of my worry.

“How you holding up?”

Doug’s voice snaps me out of my spiral.

I glance up to see him standing there, holding a short glass of something brown.

I take it from him without a word and pour it down the hatch.

Immediately, I regret it.

The burn hits the back of my throat like a goddamn inferno.

“What the fuck is that?” I cough, trying not to let my eyes water.

Doug grins, the smug bastard. “Oh, it’s a little something called Habanero Mango Bite. A Pack mate of mine owns a distillery down in Maccon City.”

“Shit, it’s hot as fuck.”

Doug laughs, clapping me on the back. “Yeah, this batch is for Shifters with enhanced taste buds. That’ll wake you up in the morning, am I right?”

I glare at him, my throat still on fire.

Asshole.

Naturally, I take the second shot he hands me. But I have yet to drink it when I hear movement behind me.

“Can I have some of that?” a soft voice asks, and I turn to see her standing there.

Mate.