Page 28 of Roar Enforcement

“Is that coffee I smell?”

“It sure is.” Casey headed back to the small nook. “I was just admiring the industrial kitchen you’ve got here. Does someone in your family like to cook?”

Jake laughed. “No way! They are all too busy painting, sculpting, and writing symphonies. They can barely manage toast without burning the house down.”

Ah, so they do make toast. Or at least, they attempt to.

“So, why?”

Jake shrugged. “The house is old. Over the years, the kitchen was constantly renovated. I’m not sure anyone here ever liked cooking, but I had a great-grandma who loved to host garden parties. She would have made sure the cooks had the very best equipment so she could put on the biggest events.”

“Do you guys have parties like that?”

“Not much,” he said, following her to the nook to pour some coffee.

They both made a cup, and Jake grabbed a bag of cookies before leading her through a small side door to a comfy living room. He flicked on a couple of lamps and sat beside her on the sofa.

“How many people live here?” Casey asked, taking a sip of coffee. She was worried she might suddenly be overrun by a herd of hungry Gillepsies.

“Hmm,” he muttered around half a cookie. “My brother, Scott, and my parents come and go. I don’t think anyone’s here right now. They have studios and shows to manage.”

“Wow, so they are all pretty serious artists, then?”

“Yeah, they really are,” he agreed. They sat in silence for a moment, the old house creaking a little as the temperature changed outside.

Casey desperately wanted to ask him about being a shifter, but she didn’t know if it was rude. She had no idea how to navigate such a conversation without offending him.

Gerri said I’m his mate, which means I have a right to know.

“You’ve got something on your mind,” Jake said, grinning. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”

“Okay … well, I was wondering what it’s like to be a shifter. I haven’t heard much about it. Definitely never met one other than Gerri. Can you tell me what it’s like for you?”

Jake sat quietly, staring into the dark corners of the room as he gently ran a fingertip around the rim of his cup. “I’m not sure where to start. What would you most like to know?”

“How does it feel?” Casey asked. “When you shift, what does it feel like?”

He smiled and closed his eyes. Casey felt a heavy weight in the air, something that chased her skin with goosebumps and made her skin hypersensitive. There was even a faint pressure shift that made her ears ring.

Jake smiled softly, and she felt that he was in communion with his lion.

“We are one, but apart,” he said softly. “When I’m in a business meeting or navigating traffic, anything that requires only my human half, I can almost forget the lion is there. Otherwise, it seems to sit right under my conscious mind. I can feel its power in everything I do.”

He sighed and opened his eyes. Casey saw them shimmer, the blue depths lightening to sky blue.

“Shifting is like … fire running over my skin. Then it literally feels like my body splits open. It was painful and frightening the first few times, but it became less so with practice. Now, when I feel that sensation, it’s a thrill. It doesn’t hurt at all.”

He went quiet for a moment, and Casey waited, practically on the edge of her seat.

“Then, my human mind becomes still. It’s almost like the lion and I join hands. I step back, and the primal mind takes over. Like my human consciousness can’t understand the base animal thoughts, and that’s why there is a split.”

“Isn’t a split mind very dangerous?”

“Yes,” he said. “Some shifters do go mad. They become wasted, sick humans unable to shift, or wild, rabid animals that can’t be human anymore. That’s rare, but it does happen.”

Casey shivered, fear and excitement running through her in equal measure. “Even so, I’d love to feel it,” she whispered. “I wish I could be a shifter.”

“Sorry, babe,” Jake laughed. “You have to be born a shifter. There’s no other way.”

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