Page 98 of Marked

Nate took a seat beside me, and we watched as the band finished tuning up. The crowd had grown to about a hundred, which made me feel safer. Nate and I could sort of vanish into the mass of people. All worries about being noticed faded as the sun went down and the people around us multiplied.

The lead singer stepped up to the mic and waved at everyone. “Hey there. We’re The River Rats. Thanks for coming out.”

They then launched into a pretty good rendition of Redbone’s “Come and Get Your Love.” The speakers were loud enough to give the music some depth, but not loud enough to make it difficult to talk. That was good, because I still had a thousand questions running through my head that I’d been too stressed out to ask on our drive up.

“Nate?”

He swallowed his drink and looked over. “Yeah?”

“I still have some things I want to know.”

He grinned and chuckled. “Why am I not surprised that the reporter has more questions?”

I huffed. “Don’t be an ass.”

“Shoot,” he said. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to hear.”

His willingness to speak showed me that my initial opinion of him had been completely wrong. The first time I met him, I’d pegged him as a secretive, operative type who’d keep me in the dark about anything and everything. In reality, he was just guarded and quiet by nature. I’d always assumed I was a goodjudge of character, but Nate and Rick had shown me that the opposite might be true. While I’d thought Nate would be the one to hide secrets and Rick had my best interests at heart, I’d been wrong.

Rick was full of obsession, control, and self-centered desire. Nate, while flirtatious and cocky, had been honest from the beginning. He’d never hidden anything from me. He was a nomad and wasn’t likely to want to stick things out or hang around long-term, but he was an open book when it came to most things. He’d laid the cards out on the table and told me the truth. There were a few cards he hadn’t turned over yet, but he’d at least let me know the cards existed and that he’d flip them over when he could. I’d only known him a week, but he’d given me more truth than Rick had in the months we’d been together.

After clearing my throat, I said, “You mentioned something aboutbonding. What is that? We never got time for you to explain it better.”

His eyes widened a bit. “Didn’t think that was what you’d ask first,” he said, putting his beer down. “But I’ll try to explain.” He took a deep breath. “So, the wolf side of a shifter can be very territorial. It comes from the natural instinct of true wolves. You have territory and a pack you want to protect. Right?”

“I guess so,” I said, still not sure where he was going with this.

“When the wolf side meets someone who is pleasing to them in some way, they naturally want to be near them. They’ll get comfortable, lustful, and happy in their presence. That eventually leads them to bondwith that person. It’s usually another shifter, but as we’ve seen, it can be a human, too. Rick is bonded to you. That much isveryobvious.”

His words sunk in, and I thought back to when I first met Rick. He’d introduced himself and immediately started flirting, like he’d seen me from across the room and decided he wantedme. Sort of strange in hindsight, but in the moment, I’d been flattered and shocked that this tuxedoed man was smitten with a lowly beat reporter.

“Does that mean I’m bonded to him, too?” I asked.

Nate shook his head as the band switched over to an interesting and somewhat bizarre rock version of Beyonce’s “Single Ladies.”

“It doesn’t have to be mutual,” Nate explained. “It usually is. It’s rare for it not to be. Males and females react differently to bonding. A female who bonds to a male is jealous and protective of their male. They can actually get quite aggressive toward other women if they show interest or flirt with their male.”

“So they become catty? Great.” I rolled my eyes. “Love that the stereotype is real.”

Nate chuckled and took another sip of beer. “Sort of, I guess. Maybe you’d call it ‘wolfy’ instead.” He grinned. “Even though they are territorial of their men, most bonded females are accepting and loving toward any children their male might have with other women. Their wolf side sees something of their chosen male in the child. It means they make really good stepmothers.”

“Well, at least I don’t have to worry about the wicked stepmother trope. I guess it’s the same for the males, then?”

Nate made a pained expression. “Not really. You’ve seen how combative and territorial a bonded male is. They tend to be the polar opposite when it comes to children their chosen female may have had in previous relationships. They weren’t sired by them, so it’s almost impossible for the male to form a fatherly bond with the child. Theycanget over that, but it’s a challenge. I bet lots of shifters have daddy issues because of that.

“The other issue with males is how high their sex drive gets when they’ve bonded to a woman. They have an overwhelming urge to hunt for their woman, keep them fed, and keep themsatisfied in bed. The urge to breed is almost impossible to hold back.”

That sounded exactly like Rick. He’d been insatiable our first few weeks together, and even after that, he’d wanted sex at least three or four times a week. Had I not been living with Mom and Gael, he probably would have tried every day. The few times we’d had sex without a condom, he’d begged for it. Maybe that had been his urge to impregnate me.

I shuddered at the thought.

“That’s why I was worried about you staying at your apartment,” Nate said. “A bonded male shifter is nothing to overlook. When the bonding isn’t mutual, the male becomes a little deranged. Imagine a stalker. Obsessed, angry, sexually frustrated, and violent, but with the skills and strength of a wolf. That’s what Rick is right now.”

It felt as though a cold finger had slid down my spine. I shivered, despite myself.

Nate must have seen it because he cursed and put his bottle down. “Shit, I’m sorry. I got carried away. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He leaned forward and put an arm around my shoulders.

“It’s fine.” I took a long swig of my beer to calm my nerves, but the heat of his arm worked much better. “I needed to know. I can’t understand this world I’m in if I don’t learn everything.”

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