Page 4

4

KEANE

I couldn’t shift. I tried. Gods, how much I tried. But no matter what I did, I was unable to take my skin. It was frustrating, but more than that, I could see that it was distressing this man. This man who was my mate. And more than anything, I longed to comfort him.

He was mine, and it was my job to make his life better, not more difficult.

I couldn’t scent that he was my mate, obviously, because my nose didn’t work. But my cat recognized him, repeating over and over again that he was ours. I trusted him on this.

As terrified as I should’ve been, having a wolf who’d just murdered people carry me while he was still covered in blood, put me in the front seat of his car, and take me to some random location, I wasn’t. Not a single ounce of fear flowed through me.

If anything, I felt safer than I ever had before.

I hated the distress I could feel rolling off of him when he kept telling me I could shift and that it would be okay. He felt guilty, like he was responsible for me staying in this form, like he believed I was scared of him and it was a protective move on my part. He had no way of knowing that his presence comforted me.

The day had been long before I even went into that alley, and now I was exhausted. I was also so very confused. Adding to all of that was my being stressed the fuck out about not being able to shift. But I would trust this man with anything, including my safety, which made no sense… until I listened to my cat and accepted that he was ours. And now that I had, I curled up in a ball.

I fell asleep while he was in the shower, and when I woke up, his wolf was wrapped around me. I wanted to lean in and rub against him, to gather his scent. I might not be able to enjoy it, but my cat insisted we needed to be sure others would sense that he was mine and back off. Not that there were currently any “others” around. Fair to say I was already pretty possessive of him. I stayed still, afraid that if I moved, if I woke him, he’d shift and try to get me to do the same. And I knew I wasn’t able to, at least not until I got some sleep.

So instead of stressing more, I let myself fall back asleep.

The next time I woke, he had taken his skin, still wrapped around me, but very much human. Moving as little as possible, I took him in, trying to memorize every inch of his body.

This was my mate. He was mine.

He had scars… scars that shifters shouldn’t have. The wounds must have been really severe to leave any faint traces at all. How hard had his life been? Was this life, always his, or was it what he had chosen for himself? All I knew about lives of crime I’d learned from really crappy movies. I doubted they were close to the authority on the subject.

He’d tell me… hopefully. That was if I could wake up and ask him, pull myself out of this body… but I couldn’t. It would have to wait.

I must’ve moved too much, because he woke up. His mouth curled into a smile. His eyes were so sweet, so caring. There was a softness to him—one I hadn’t seen last night.

“You’re awake,” he said, reaching down to pet me.

I wasn’t one to like being petted. It just felt… yucky. But with him, I enjoyed all of it and never wanted it to end.

“Do you think today, maybe, you could shift back? And we could talk? I promise you, I won’t hurt you. I kind of need you to—because right now I’m second-guessing myself. Worried that maybe you aren’t a shifter after all, and you’re just a cat that I found in the wild via the Cat Distribution System… and I’ve lost my mind.”

I rubbed my chin against his shoulder, trying to comfort him.

“You’re not… are you?”

I shook my head, trying to mimic what my human head would do. He sat up.

“I gotta hit the bathroom for a minute, but then I can get you something to eat and figure out… everything else.”

He was already in the bathroom when I realized what he meant by “everything else”—for me to use the bathroom. Because in this form, I wasn’t using the toilet. But also, I didn’t want a cat box. How humiliating that would be.

He came out and sat on the bed.

“I want to feed you… but I think we need to get you to a doctor first. I should’ve thought of that sooner.”

I felt myself retract.

“A shifter doctor. Not a vet, silly cat.”

I hardly felt silly. Vet or not, I didn’t like the idea of someone poking around my feline body. But if he needed me not to eat before he figured things out, I trusted him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why is this so difficult? We’re supposed to find our mate, fall into each other’s arms, and live happily ever after. That’s how it’s supposed to work, right?”

He closed his eyes. “Yeah… that’s not how it works. It’s not how it worked for my brother. It’s not how it worked for my parents. It’s only how it works in fairy tales.”

I let out a mew of understanding. At least that was my attempt.

“How about we go now? Then we’ll figure everything out from there.”

I padded over to him, rubbed my chin against his leg, and went to the door.

“You wanna go outside?”

I let out a little meow.

“Are you running away?”

I shook my head again, the best I could. Thankfully, he seemed to understand.

“You need privacy outside?”

Another meow. Thank gods he threw on some clothes and carried me to the elevator and then straight outside so I could take care of things, because there would be nothing as embarrassing as having my mate see my beast using the bathroom.

“I’ll come right back for you. Okay? I need to check us out.”

I attempted to nod and then took off to the fancy bushes that were part of the landscaping to take care of business. Like he asked, I went back to the huge glass doors and waited. Not for long, though. He had our stuff in his hands.

“Let’s go.” He started toward the car, which the valet had already brought around, then turned back and looked at me. “Did you want me to carry you?”

That was all the invitation I needed. I ran over and jumped up, glad when he caught me, even if it meant dropping his bag. He carried me straight to the car, and placed me in the seat beside him and went back for his bag.

On the way there, he told me about the doctor—how he could be trusted, how he’d used him for a good chunk of his life. Not just for his family, but for the people he worked with. He refrained from saying who those people were, but we both knew. We’d been in that alley together. It was no secret.

We pulled into a neighborhood, parked the car, and went into a non-descript office. He tucked me into his button-down, pressed against his chest, nestled in his warmth… exactly where I wanted to be. At least until he reached the doctor. That wasn’t where I wanted to be at all, but that didn’t make it unnecessary.

He explained to the doctor everything that had happened, minus the murdering part, and set me down on the exam table.

“I’m here. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

And that was when the embarrassment hit.

The doctor poked and prodded at me, pulled back my gums to look at my teeth, inserted a thermometer in a place that really didn’t need to be witnessed by my mate, and eventually drew some blood.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” the doctor said. “But something must have triggered this. It’s not meeting his mate, though. That I’m sure of. If anything, that should have pulled him out. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He walked out, and I hopped onto my mate’s lap, where he assured me everything would be okay. He also made a point of letting me know that he hadn’t watched the exam. I didn’t know how true that was—but I held onto it, because the alternative was far worse.

The doctor came back only minutes later. His face was not reassuring.

“So, I hate to bring this news to you… but there are drugs in his system. That’s why he can’t shift.”

“Drugs? You mean like… he was toking up?”

“No.” The doctor’s face was grim. “He’s lucky he’s still alive with the kind he has flowing through him.”

I hadn’t taken drugs. Ever. Under any circumstances. I didn’t even like to drink. I had no idea what was happening. I replayed the evening before—I’d had a few drinks of water at a couple bars while waiting to talk to the manager. Could that have been it? Could it have been something I inhaled during the altercation with those drunks? Were they not drunk at all, but high?

I had no idea.

But the way my mate sucked in a breath and looked down at me, eyes wide with shock—and maybe a little fear?—

I knew.

He thought I did drugs.

And it disgusted him.

I disgusted him.

Fuck.