“Wine?” Georgia held up a bottle of white.

“That sounds nice, thanks.” I reached out and took the stemmed glass, forcing myself to hold it loosely instead of white-knuckling it. I wondered how good their hearing was, whether they could hear my pounding heart or my pulse. I wondered if it was true that they could smell fear.

But they were just smiling. Not in the “I’m going to eat you” type of way, but in the “we’ve accepted you into our friend group immediately” way.

“Come on, sit down,” Jenn urged me, motioning to an empty chair.

I was about to do just that when the male in the corner coughed as he adjusted his seat, watching me.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jenn said. “Iris, this is my dad—”

“Malcolm, right?” I said without thinking.

A surprised hush washed over the group, and heat flooded my cheeks. I knew without having to look in a mirror that I’d turned beet red. Malcolm blinked, glancing over to Alek, who looked just as bemused. He turned back toward me, leaning forward and steepling his fingers.

“Now, how did you know that?” he asked conversationally. He regarded me intently, with an interest that seemed unwarranted for simply knowing his name.

I blinked, frowning. How had I known it? “I guess Alek must have told me at some point?” I said, not sounding particularly convincing.

Alek shook his head. “I didn’t.”

My face turned even redder. God, it had happened again.

I’d always been considered a bit off growing up. It was one of the reasons my brother and dad treated me like garbage. It had been little things like this, being a good guesser or getting déjà vu fairly regularly, like what had happened when I’d arrived at Alek’s house. I could have sworn I’d been there before, even though I knew I hadn’t.

“I’m just good at guessing names,” I muttered, shifting back and forth.

“Really?” Malcolm tilted his head, studying me with keen but polite interest. In that gaze, I saw the general he used to be, always assessing and calculating everything, needing to be two steps ahead of his opponents.

Did that mean I was his opponent now?

“What else are you good at guessing?” he asked.

It was such a bizarre question that I wasn’t entirely sure how to answer. I opened my mouth, then closed it. I glanced over at Alek, who returned a bemused look and shrugged.

“Dad, stop freaking her out,” Jenn scolded. “She’s scared enough as it is.”

“Sorry,” I said. “It’s nothing to do with you guys. You all seem lovely. It’s just—”

“Just that your town or village or wherever you’re from is terrified of shifters and shoved a lot of propaganda down your throat?” Evelyn, the redhead, finished for me, eyebrows raising. The girls laughed.

“That about sums it up, yeah,” I admitted.

“Don’t worry,” Jenn said. “Us shifters only eat men—there’s a reason we’re called ‘man-eaters.’” She winked at me, and the girls cackled. Even I couldn’t help but laugh.

“If you need the directions to my dad and brother’s place, I’d be more than happy to point you in the right direction,” I blurted, then winced.

“They sound like lovely people,” Georgia said, “but you don’t have anything to worry about with us.”

Weirdly, I believed her. I believed all of them. There was something about them that put me at ease. It wasn’t that they were lulling me into a false sense of security, either. They just seemed like they genuinely cared, and their open personalities made it easy to open up to them.

“Thanks,” I said. “Not gonna lie, I don’t exactly miss them.”

“So they have no idea where you are?” Jenn asked.

I frowned, furrowing my brow. “I don’t know, but I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure they’re looking for me, though.”

“Any reason why?” Malcolm’s voice made me jump. He was still staring at me with interest, eyes glittering.