Page 46 of Bitten Shifter

“With supervision, you can remove the band for short periods to build tolerance. Eventually, you will adjust, and you might not need it at all—or you might wear it only on special occasions, like a concert, so you can enjoy the music without hearing someone slurp their drink ten rows back.”

“Good to know. Thank you.” I tap the band. “Do newly turned shifters ever manage without magical help?”

“Some do,” he replies. “It depends on the individual. Think of it as a spectrum. Some shifters wrestle with control, while others—like alphas—have near-flawless mastery. It’s partly genetic. Call it ‘uber-control.’”

That makes sense. Alphas are wired differently, exerting authority over their animals. I nod. “Okay. Thank you.”

“I know you are an adult,” Merrick says, “but every new shifter goes to the Facility until they have mastered their transformations. It’s in Zone One, not deep in shifter territory. You will learn how to be a shifter, how to follow the rules, and what your strengths are. After that, we will find a place for you in a pack.”

He sayspackthe way a human might sayfamily.

“You have a place for me in a facility?” I snap, my temper sparking. “Hang on. I’m not going anywhere. I have a life and a job to do.”

Now that I have this band, I can learn all this shifter stuff and figure the rest out on my own.

His eyes narrow, and his expression hardens into what I can only assume is his best alpha stare.

I stare back, no less indignant.

“You will do as you are told,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “You are a shifter, Lark, and this isn’t something—unlike your marriage—that you can run away from.”

What?

Chapter Eighteen

“My what?”The words come out as a snarl. I’m on my feet before I realise I’ve moved, squaring up to him across the desk. My temper flares like a match struck against dry tinder, and the thing inside me responds with a feral hunger.

My fists twitch. I want to punch him in his smug, beautiful, infuriating face. I want tobitehim, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to.

“What do you know about my marriage?” I growl, my voice shaking with rage.

Merrick’s expression changes, watchful now, as though deciding whether I’m about to hit him or walk out. “You left your life in the Human Zone,” he says evenly. “Left your husband for a job.”

His words feel like a slap.

“I left my husband for a job?” I repeat incredulously, my voice rising with each syllable. “I. Left. My. Husband. For. A. Job? Is that what you think?”

I take a step closer, my voice razor-sharp enough to cut glass. “Let me tell you something, Mr High-and-Mighty Shifter. I left my husband because he screwed my sister. Mysister.I caught them in bed together, so don’t you dare stand there and judgeme. I didn’t throw away twenty-seven years of marriage for an effing job.”

I’m shaking now, fury rolling off me in waves. “If you are going to have an opinion about my life, at least bloody well have the decency to ask me first!”

The words hang in the air, heavy with tension. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I retreat until I bump into the chair behind me. Startled, I shuffle further back until my shoulders press against the shelves on the far wall.

I need to calm down.

Asking this man for help, then turning around and using my newfound strength to knock him senseless, would defeat the purpose.

Merrick rubs the back of his neck, wincing. “I apologise. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have.” My voice remains tight.

Hurt.

I inhale deeply, trying to soothe the thing inside me. The fancy magical band isn’t doing shit—she is prowling beneath the surface, feeding on my temper.

I close my eyes and wrestle with the magic within.

Before either of us can say more, a sharp bang and a hiss cut through the tense silence. The noise comes from one of Merrick’s desk drawers. He frowns, leaning down to investigate.

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