Chapter Five
~ Rooster ~
My head throbbed where that bastard had hit me with the bat, the pain pulsing in time with my heartbeat. Even with the ice pack, it felt like someone was driving a nail through my skull with each beat.
But the pain hardly registered compared to what I'd just witnessed—Liam shifting into a lynx right in front of me, then slipping away to change back into human form in private.
My mind was still processing the implications.
The kid had been a shifter all along. A lynx shifter surviving on his own since he was seven years old.
The thought made my chest ache almost as much as my head.
No wonder he'd been so wary, so careful about keeping his distance.
He'd been hiding more than just his homelessness.
Liam moved with that fluid grace I'd noticed before—the grace of a predator in human form. His golden eyes met mine briefly before darting away, his body language screaming uncertainty.
That's when it hit me.
The scent washed over me like a tsunami, my bear roaring to attention within me so suddenly I nearly lost my breath. How had I missed it before? But of course—he'd never been close enough, and he'd masked his shifter scent somehow.
Now, having shifted, his true scent filled the kitchen—earth and pine and something uniquely him, something that called to my very soul.
Mate.
My mate.
The one I'd given up hope of ever finding.
"You're my mate," I blurted out, the words tumbling from my mouth before my brain could filter them.
Liam froze, his entire body going statue-still in that way only cats can achieve. His golden eyes widened, pupils expanding into black pools of confusion and alarm. He took a half-step backward, his gaze darting toward the nearest exit.
"I can smell it on you," I explained, trying to keep my voice gentle despite the bear inside me that wanted to roar with triumph. "It's... it's a shifter thing. The scent. When someone is your destined mate, you can smell it."
Liam frowned, then lifted his arm to his nose and sniffed it, his face scrunching up like he'd encountered something unpleasant. I almost laughed at his expression—somewhere between bewilderment and offense.
"No, not like that," I said. "It's not a bad smell. It's... perfect. To me, at least. It's how our kind finds our mates."
He still looked utterly lost, and I realized with a pang that he probably had no idea what I was talking about. If he'd been on his own since childhood, who would have taught him about mates? About anything related to shifter culture?
Before I could explain further, the back door swung open, and voices filled the hallway—Butch and several others returning from securing the captives.
Liam moved with lightning speed, darting behind me like I was a human shield.
His thin fingers clutched the back of my shirt, his body pressed against my spine.
The protective instinct that surged through me was unlike anything I'd ever felt. I rose to my full height, ignoring the wave of dizziness from my head injury, and positioned myself as a barrier between the doorway and my newly discovered mate.
Bear, Gunner, and Henry appeared in the doorway first, mid-conversation about the captives. They fell silent when they saw me standing there like a bouncer at an exclusive club.
"Everything okay?" Gunner asked, his eyes flicking from my defensive stance to the glimpse of Liam behind me.
"Fine," I said, my voice gruffer than I intended. "Just need a minute."
Henry frowned, his doctor-brain probably noticing how I was swaying slightly. "You should be sitting down with that head injury. I told you—"
"I'm fine," I repeated, more firmly this time. My bear was too close to the surface, too protective of the frightened lynx using me as cover. "We just need a moment."
They exchanged glances but moved past us toward the common room, giving us a wide berth. Henry muttered something about "stubborn patients" as he passed.
Butch was the last to enter, his expression shifting from weariness to sharp interest as he took in the scene. "Rooster? What's going on?"
I took a deep breath, reaching behind me to gently touch Liam's hand where it clutched my shirt. A silent reassurance.
"Butch, can I have a word? Just you?"
He nodded, then waited as the others disappeared down the hallway. When we were alone, I felt Liam relax slightly, though he still remained safely behind me.
"Come on out, Liam," I said softly. "It's just Butch. He's our president. Our alpha. He's not going to hurt you."
Slowly, reluctantly, Liam shifted to stand beside me rather than behind me. His body remained tense, poised to run at the first sign of danger. I resisted the urge to put my arm around him, sensing he wasn't ready for that level of contact.
"Butch," I said, my voice steadier than I felt, "Liam is a shifter. A lynx. And... he's my mate."
I’d been waiting my entire life to say those words.
Butch's eyebrows shot up, but he controlled his reaction quickly. "I see." His gaze shifted to Liam, assessing but not unkind. "Welcome to the club, then."
Liam didn't respond, his eyes fixed on the floor.
"There's more," I continued. "He doesn't know anything about being a shifter, about mates, about any of it." I felt a growl building in my chest as I thought about the implications. "He was abandoned when he was seven years old. Been on his own ever since."
Butch's expression darkened. We'd seen enough cases like Bug and the fox brothers to know what happened to young shifters without protection.
It rarely ended well.
"I see," he repeated, his voice gentler this time. "That explains a few things."
He looked at Liam again, then back to me. "Take him to your room. Get him cleaned up. Fed. We can sort out the rest tomorrow."
I nodded, gratitude washing through me.
"And Rooster?" Butch added, his tone dropping to ensure Liam couldn't hear. "Make sure you explain everything before you even think about claiming him. Kid's been through enough without being blindsided by a mating bite."
"I know," I assured him. The thought of rushing Liam into anything made my stomach turn. He'd had enough choices taken away from him already.
"Good," Butch said. "I'm going to check on Treat and Doby. Someone should be tucking that cub in right about now."
As he walked away, I turned to look at Liam, who was watching me with wary confusion. Those golden eyes seemed to see right through me, questioning everything I'd just said.
My mate. The thought still felt surreal, like I might wake up and find this had all been some concussion-induced hallucination. But the scent of him was unmistakable, and my bear knew with absolute certainty that we had finally found what we'd been searching for all these years.
Now I just had to explain what that meant to someone who'd been alone far too long. Luckily, I knew just the place to do it.
“Come with me,” I said as I tugged him down the hallway. My private room was nothing fancy—just a space off the kitchen where I could crash between cooking shifts without having to trek upstairs.
A double bed took up most of the room, with a small dresser and chair by the window making up the rest of the furniture. But it was clean, it was private, and most importantly, it had a door that locked from the inside. I figured Liam would appreciate that last feature the most.
"This is my space," I explained as I flicked on the light. "Nobody comes in here without my permission."
I deliberately moved to sit in the chair by the window, positioning myself as far from the door as possible. The message was clear: I wasn't blocking his escape route if he needed to bolt. My head still throbbed like a son of a bitch, but I ignored it.
Some things were more important than pain.
Liam hovered in the doorway, golden eyes taking in every detail of the room. I recognized the calculation in that gaze—he was mapping exits, assessing threats, planning escape routes. I'd seen the same look in Bug's eyes when he first arrived.
After a long moment, he stepped inside and perched on the very corner of the bed nearest the door. His posture remained tense, ready to spring up at the first sign of danger. The kid had clearly spent years perfecting the art of quick getaways.
"So," I began, keeping my voice gentle, "I'm guessing no one ever explained to you what being a shifter means."
Liam shook his head, a quick, sharp movement.
"Have you ever lived with other shifters? A lynx clan maybe?"
Another head shake.
"How long have you known you could shift?"
He frowned, then held up his hands with all ten fingers spread, then added two more fingers.
"Since you were twelve?" I clarified.
He nodded.
"And your parents... were they shifters too?"
The question seemed to confuse him. After a moment, he shook his head.
"They were human?" I pressed. "Did they know what you were?"
His face darkened, and he nodded once. Then he made a gesture like he was pushing something away.
"They kicked you out when they found out," I guessed, my voice hardening despite my efforts to keep it neutral.
Liam nodded, his eyes dropping to the floor.
"And that's when you were seven?" I asked, piecing together his earlier gestures.
Another nod.
The rage that bubbled up inside me was so fierce I had to close my eyes for a moment to contain it. Seven years old. A fucking child, tossed out like garbage because he was different.
Were his parents even his biological parents? Or had they adopted him, only to discard him when they discovered what he really was?
"Were you adopted?" I asked, opening my eyes again.
Liam shrugged, then nodded hesitantly. Not certain, then, but he suspected as much.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the bear that wanted to hunt down these people and make them pay for what they'd done. The reasonable part of me knew that Liam's parents had likely been frightened humans encountering something they couldn't understand.