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Micha stopped short, so suddenly, Loren nearly ran into him. Instead, she tripped, landing on the dirt.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Micha was by her side in an instant to help her to her feet. However, when she dusted the dirt from her knees, he wouldn’t meet her gaze directly.
“Why do you want to know about a boring subject like that?” he asked. “I can think of ten topics off the top of my head that are way more interesting. Like scent marking and what it’s like on the mountain, and—”
“Why won’t anyone explain that to me?” Loren couldn’t help the desperate frustration in her voice. She supposed it had been building since the very day she woke up to Sonia and Bill whispering about her, refusing to tell her outright what was going on. She hated it. Being treated like a child. An idiot.
A burden.
Something in her expression made Micha wince. “Okay! Okay! Don’t make me the bad guy. I’ll tell you.”
He shot a wary glance over his shoulder as if hunting for McGoven. Then he conspiratorially lowered his mouth near her ear.
“A mate is like… Humans might compare it to marriage or something, but it’s more than that. A connection. It outlasts any other bond—even between a lycan and his Alpha. A mate will always come first. But it’s… complicated. You can’t just walk up to someone and give them a ring like humans do.” He laughed, only to trail off awkwardly once he realized she wasn’t in on the joke. “It’s a sacred bond,” he said with a solemness Loren had only seen in him a handful of times—the day the intruders attacked Naomi in the fields and again when he pledged his life to Bill. “Lycans who are mated to each other… It’s like they have two brains instead of one. Two sets of senses. Two strengths. They’re one and the same, and not everyone can handle that kind of connection.”
Butterflies came to life within Loren’s stomach. “What do you mean?”
“There are downsides,” Micha added. “A bond like that… If one mate dies, the other can go insane from the pain. It’s like having their soul ripped in half.”
The words felt way too eerie. Was that why she could feel McGoven’s emotions? Sense his thoughts? Was he her…
“How?” she asked hoarsely. “How can you tell if someone is your mate?”
Micha fidgeted, suddenly fixated on the waistband of his pants. “You know what? Why don’t we do one more lap before blondie gets back and brings down the mood with her pouting—”
“Please.” Her voice lacked any true emotion, but Micha deflated as if she’d shouted.
“It’s not random,” he said thickly. “It’s a choice. Two lycans meet, and they willingly share themselves with each other. Usually—” he cleared his throat. “With an intimate connection as well, but I’ve heard that’s not necessary. It’s a mutual acceptance.”
Loren frowned. So much for that theory. She couldn’t recall Bill McGoven ever asking her outright to be his mate.
“There is no other way?” she prodded. Was that disappointment fluttering in her stomach? She had no right to be.
Micha sputtered. “Well… I ah—”
“Tell me, please.”
“I’ve heard stories of some really fucked-up lycans forcing a mating bond. It’s… It’s the worst violation you can ever think of. You force your way into someone’s mind. Their soul. We are taught to never do something like that without consent. Ever. B-But,” he added hastily. “Sometimes, in rare cases, it might be better for a female—a lycan—to have another lycan forge a mating bond to help them transition. Especially if they’ve been traumatized. The mating bond can offer relief from fear. Pain. Bad memories. If done with the right intentions.”
He was dancing around something, but suddenly Loren didn’t want to know. Whether with good intentions or not, the thought of someone else having control of her emotions and fears felt…
No better than Fred Connors using his fists to accomplish the same thing.
And yet. If her attraction to McGoven was just a fluke. Unrequited… That thought stung just as badly.
17
In the five years Bill worked for the New Walsh PD, he had never received a less than stellar evaluation. Though, if a skilled investigator happened to dig into his past, they would discover that he had no university or academy training to speak of. In fact, he had no credentials other than the ones he left the pack with all those years ago—which, to say the least, weren’t much.
Luckily, an unnatural sense of smell, reflexes, speed, and an ability to plant “suggestions” within human minds went a long way to fill any educational gaps. Besides, New Walsh was such a quiet town that most calls centered around silencing rowdy neighbors or finding lost pets.
Until Loren Connors. Tackling her case was the first time he’d ever felt out of his element.
In more ways than one.
Damn Fred Connors and the bastard’s secrets. Bill had hoped that his death would end his hold over Loren, but that was turning out to be wishful thinking. The visit from the Eislander bastard cemented his gut feeling that something was off. More than questioned paternity. Loren’s true origins had been…hidden somehow. Fred Connors had merely been a scapegoat.
But for who? And why?
