I stare at what I've written.
I keep reading.
Scent-sharing through the transfer of personal garments is among the most reliably documented pre-completion courtship behaviors. The recognizing partner will offer garments imbued with their scent to the unrecognized mate. The wearing of such garments functions as a significant social signal to other wolves, marking the wearer as claimed within the recognizing partner's social environment.
I look down at the sweatshirt I'm currently wearing.
His sweatshirt.
The one I stole two weeks ago and have been wearing approximately four days out of every seven.
Oh my god.
I write SWEATSHIRT in my notebook in capital letters, put the pen down, sit back, and spend about thirty seconds staring at the middle distance. I'm processing the fact that I've been wandering around one of the most werewolf-dense campuses in the country wearing what is apparently a sign that says CLAIMED in a language everyone around me can read except me.
The article keeps going.
Escort behavior, it says, presents consistently in pre-completion pairs. The recognizing partner will orient their movement to match the mate's, preferentially choosing routes that allow them to walk beside or slightly behind the mate in crowded spaces, positioning their body to create a physical buffer.
I write: walks me everywhere. always ends up between me and any crowd. carries my bag. positions himself between me and the door.
Heightened awareness of the mate's physical condition, the article continues, like we're playing a game and it's winning, including monitoring of temperature, fatigue, hunger, and emotional distress. The recognizing partner will often respond to changes in the mate's condition before the mate has verbally communicated them.
I write: knew I was cold before I said anything. knows when I'm tired even when I say I'm fine. handed me ibuprofen about thirty seconds before I realized my head was actually hurting.
I thought that was just him being attentive. I thought that was just the kind of person he is.
Apparently it's more specific than that.
Territorial response to potential romantic competitors, reads the next section, and I already know exactly what's coming, including heightened alertness and, in social settings, positioning of the body to reduce the mate's accessibility to other males. This behavior intensifies in direct proportion to the perceived threat level and is among the harder-to-conceal pre-completion instinct expressions.
I draw a little star next to territorial response and write: Donovan from Bio. That guy at the festival. The TA who lingered after seminar. Goes very quiet. Watches them until they leave. Asks about them later in a tone that is technically casual.
The fourth article is a 2019 study on proximity. It contains the finding that recognizing werewolves in the pre-completion stage average twenty-three percent more physical proximity to their recognized mates compared to their proximity with other close friends or partners, with a confidence interval the researchers apparently felt the need to make very, very clear.
I look at where Boone typically sits at our study table compared to where he sits with Tate.
I close my notebook.
I look at the ceiling.
I think about every person who’s looked at me and Boone together and done that thing with their face—that brief, knowing, carefully contained thing. Priya’s friend grabbing her elbow. Tate’s one-second performance. Delilah saying it’s not my place.
And then I think about half the werewolf population of this campus watching me walk around in Boone Kinkaid’s sweatshirt for two solid weeks while I smiled at everyone like I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.
“Oh my god,” I say, quietly, to nobody in the library stacks.
A vampire two shelves over glances at me.
“Sorry,” I say. “Carry on.”
I go back to the dorm.
Delilah looks up from her desk and I point at her.
“You knew,” I say.
“Maisie—”