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“Not maybe.” I gestured toward the screen. “You built an entire presentation overnight, connected my behavior to gaps in my scent profile, identified the products I was using, and figured out why everyone else misclassified me. Hilary and Hudson have stronger senses, but you’re the one who caught me.”

“That says more about your terrible lying skills than my investigative abilities.”

Patty moved through the final slides quickly. Scent markers were glands near the wrists, throat, and upper torso that carried stronger identifying information for other shifters. Scent blockers dulled those markers, though using too much created an unnatural blankness.

That explained Karen’s suspicion at movie night.

Territory markings were mostly scent-based and subtle, not wolves urinating on every available tree, which Patty quickly clarified. Mates were not magically assigned. Shifters could feel heightened compatibility, attraction, or recognition, but relationships still required choice, consent, and work.

“Humans hear mate and assume there’s some destiny in play that removes personal agency,” Patty added.

“Does the bond do anything?”

“It can increase awareness of the other person, especially after long-term commitment and shared scent. Some couples report knowing when the other is hurt or distressed. Nobody fully agrees how much is biological and how much comes from knowing someone extremely well.”

I tried not to think about Hudson. Of course, I failed.

“Okay, time for a pop quiz,” Patty said. “What do you do if someone asks why you haven’t shifted recently?”

“I say I’m a latent shifter.”

“Good. If they ask about your first shift?”

“I say it never came.”

“If they ask to run?”

“Same answer. I’m a latent shifter but don’t like talking about it.”

She looked almost proud. “You beautiful little fraud.”

The presentation ended with animated fireworks and the words:

CONGRATULATIONS.

YOU ARE NOW 11% LESS LIKELY TO DESTROY OUR CIVILIZATION.

I applauded.

Patty bowed.

Then she disconnected the laptop, collapsed onto the couch beside me, and opened the boxed cake.

“Is the educational portion over?” I asked.

“Yes. We have entered socialization and snacking time.”

She handed me a plastic fork from the grocery bag.

We ate from opposite sides of the cake. Abandoning sanitary norms was the new vibe of Patty’s visit. The cake was chocolate, heavily frosted, and far better than anything purchased from a convenience grocery had a right to be.

Patty took an enormous bite. “Tell me what happened with Hudson.”

“Nothing happened.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Sloane. You nearly choked when I mentioned attraction.”

“That was the powdered cheese getting stuck in my throat.”