Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
Laney sat on her unmade bed, scrolling aimlessly through her phone. Her stomach churned as she recalled Max’s invitation to the beer festival. His handsome face appeared in her mind, making her inner fox whine with need. She tried to push her confusing feelings aside.
Laney tossed her phone onto the rumpled sheets and stood. She needed a shower to clear her head. Perhaps then she could focus on unpacking—a task she had neglected since arriving in town.
She walked into the bathroom, undressed, and stepped into the shower, letting hot water cascade over her hair and shoulders. The pressure washed away the physical tension but did nothing for her mental turmoil. Her pulse quickened as thoughts of Max intruded again, the mating bond refusing to be ignored.
After getting out of the shower, she wrapped herself in a towel. She wiped steam from the bathroom mirror and saw all her flaws reflected back to her. Scrawny arms, tiny breasts, too many freckles, and hair that frizzed even when wet. A heavy sense of inadequacy tightened her chest. How could someone like Max be mated to someone like her? Laney let out a sigh of frustration.
Her memory dragged her back to a moment in childhood. Her siblings were teasing her in the family living room. She’d pleaded with her father to give her the changing bite.
“You’re not a full shifter, Laney. Your mother is human. You should be content with who you are,” her father said.
Her siblings snickered, one of them muttering, “You’ll never be a real fox.”
She remembered how small and powerless she felt, the sting of rejection still fresh. Tears welled in her eyes, the memory fueling her sense of not belonging anywhere. Her human mother’s family had found her peculiarities strange, while her father’s fox shifter relatives viewed her as incomplete.
In the present, Laney rubbed her eyes, stepping away from the foggy mirror. She dried off, picked out clothes from a half-empty dresser, and got dressed. The bedroom was cluttered with boxes; some were open, revealing random items from her past. Books, certificates, and research papers spilled from one; clothes and toiletries from another. Nothing felt permanently placed, as if she expected to leave at any moment.
She felt overwhelmed by her new job, new apartment, new mate, and this wave of old insecurities. The water contamination investigation had given her purpose, a scientific problem to solve. But Max’s invitation to the festival had exposed her personal vulnerabilities, forcing her to confront a lifetime of feeling inadequate.
Laney pulled open a box marked “misc,” rummaging through memories. She pulled out a high school yearbook, a dusty photo album, and a broken hairbrush. She read an inscription in her yearbook: “You’re a freak,” scrawled in childish handwriting.
Laney’s voice trembled, “They never even knew about me being a half-shifter. I was just... plain and nerdy.”
The insults echoed in her mind, feeding the belief that she didn’t deserve the changing bite or any acceptance. A lump grew in her throat as she recalled never being asked to prom, never feeling attractive or wanted. Her accomplishments in science had become her shield, a way to prove her worth when physical appearance and social skills failed her.
Her phone buzzed loudly, startling her out of her spiraling thoughts. She picked it up, seeing Max’s name. The notification sent a wave through her body, both exciting and terrifying.
“Hey, can you come by the brewery? Want you to check out the new filtration system.”
She was torn between the longing to see him and the dread of potential rejection. Her fox stirred anxiously, urging her to go to her mate, but her human fears screamed for her to hide. What if he saw the real her—awkward, insecure, damaged by years of rejection—and changed his mind about their connection?
Laney clutched her phone. Filled with insecurity, she wasn’t sure if she should respond. She tied her frizzy hair back into a messy bun and let out a resigned sigh.
“Sure, I’ll be right over.”