Page 52 of Shifter Situations

I didn’t have to worry about the attachment I had to my friends being an issue when I found my mate. Everything would have been flipped on its axis had we not all shared a mate.

She could have been someone different, someone who would have been upset about us flirting or fooling around with each other.

We could have had different mates, and they could have had problems with our semi-codependent relationships with each other.

Truthfully, I wasn’t sure what I would do without the guys. They’d been through more ups and downs with me than I could remember.

Sloane fit into our group so seamlessly that I often forgot how much time had passed since we’d met her. Sometimes it felt like yesterday; other times, I had to remind myself that we hadn’t known her for years.

The emotions that I felt for her were becoming blinding. It was an intoxicating mix that was both terrifying and exhilarating. How I could go from being logical to constantly confused about my mental state was beyond me.

That’s just what she did to me.

She tugged at all the pieces of me that I’d buried under rationality and thought-out choices.

She made me forget to overthink.

I didn’t know which way was up anymore, but it didn’t matter when the stars surrounded me. She was so simply complex.

And I’d had too much to drink.

I turned to set my half-full bottle of beer on the tailgate of Baylor’s truck when something hit me in my chest. I glanced down, finding bones at my feet.

Jack whistled as Grim shook his head, muttering, “First kill of the night. That took her longer than I thought it would.”

The reaper’s statement brought me back to the present. Blaire looked oddly amused and not at all bloody. Which meant that Grim wasn’t talking about his own murderous mate.

I surveyed my surroundings, wondering how I’d missed her kill anyone, and snorted when I found her. She appeared thoroughly disgusted as she wiped her hands on her t-shirt.

“I won’t kill any more of your exes,” Sloane responded to Briggs as I ambled into their group.

“The vertebrae of the last one hit me in the chest,” I announced, and she covered her mouth with her left hand.

With her right, she pointed to the mage, her words muffled as she said, “He threw them.”

Palmer cackled. The sadistic glee in his eyes made me wonder how he ended up being a light mage and not dark like his siblings.

“Are you drunk, Mage?”

“Nope,” he popped back. “Well, yes. A wee bit. But if we’re killin’ people, then I’ll sober up. I know a spell.”

“No,” Briggs and I both exclaimed.

“We have a rule about drinking and practicing magic, Palmer,” I reminded him. “We don’t do it.”

While I was reprimanding the wasted mage, Vaughn leaned down, speaking quietly into Sloane’s ear. They both tensed as a small hand slid around Briggs’ bicep.

“I haven’t seen you in forever, Briggs,” a sultry, southern voice called cheerfully. “Where have you been?”

“Are you going to be accosted by females all night?” Sloane whispered.

“No,” Briggs grumbled as Palmer said, “Aye.”

“Asshole,” the wolf hissed at the mage.

Palmer threw his head back, chortling at the wolf, and I eased the cup from his hand. I didn’t know where the liquor came from; the last time I’d seen him, he’d had a beer.

“It’s good to see you again, Cilla,” Briggs replied politely, prying her hand away from his arm.