Chapter 13
Fern learns more facts.
Unknown Number
Hey, dude. How’s your day going?
No introduction, no nothing. Just a random, “How’s your day?” Fern shook her head and pulled her lower lip between her teeth, wondering if she might be right. He’d gotten her number somehow. Was he following up on yesterday? Had something changed?
Fern
Elliott?
Unknown Number
Oh yeah, sorry
She saved his contact info, adding then deleting a little heart after his name.
No one else needed to see that. She was going insane.
They weren’t dating! Sure, he made her come like three times in a row before she took a supreme nap in the summer breeze and his comforting arms—but no, definitely not dating.
He wasn’t interested in a relationship. That idiot.
Elliott
We’re going to be working together
Fern
Okay, but why?
Elliott
Renata needs new wedding favors
You’re being conscripted to paint them
She asked me to make these little chips. I’ll send a pic
Fern
Paint them how?
Spinning in a slow circle in her empty salon chair, she fought the sinking sensation brought on by realizing he’d only gotten her number to talk about this project. It was fine. She knew this was his stance, and hey, maybe the job came with great benefits.
When he explained the flower idea and showed her the inspiration, her mood climbed again, hovering somewhere just above neutral. It would be just like painting designs on nails—a bunch of big toes. Ideal, really.
Elliott
I’m told you’re the best artist for the job
It’s going to be fun
An artist. Warmth spread through her chest and a smile across her face at the act of being seen, of being asked to take part in the project.
She loved the practicality of her work, but she thrived on the creativity of it all.
Whether or not she was truly “an artist” was up for debate.
Her mother certainly didn’t agree, and Fern found the identity more and more fleeting with each passing day.
The door jangled, and Noa walked in for her one o’clock appointment.
Sending a quick text to Elliott, Fern let him know she’d return to their conversation after work, then settled Noa into the chair for her consultation.
“First day going well?”
“Amazing. I met four new clients, even though Ros took two of their haircuts. She’s gone for the afternoon, though. It’s just me and you, sweet cheeks.”
“You’re in a fantastic mood. Why’s that, hmm?” Noa batted her lashes while Fern clasped the sides of her head, tilting her chin down, then up, then left a bit, then right.
Fern’s mood wasn’t fantastic; it was fine, topped with a dollop of anxiety, bordering on bad, actually. She’d caught a case of the “what are we’s” coupled with the “who am I’s.” A potentially lethal combination.
“Just thinking about this project Elliott and I are gonna do for Ren’s wedding,” she replied, over-searching her container for the right comb.
“I know all about that. I was there when it was conceived.”
Studying the ends of Noa’s hair, Fern found the top of the damaged ends and pinched the bottom inch and a half between her fingers. “Are you why I’ve been pulled in as the artist? Also, we should cut at least this much. Are you okay with that?”
“Olivia suggested you, and yes, I want to go shorter, actually.” Noa slid her pointer finger along her collarbone. “Here.”
“Girl, you are going to look so hot!” Fern continued her consultation and learned Noa wanted a blunt cut, a lob. She was still committed to that bleach test, too, dead set on trying a bold dye since she’d never ventured from her natural black hair.
That reminded Fern she wanted to go pink. Maybe she’d knock it out after she closed up shop for the day.
At the sinks, Fern worked a vibrant citrusy shampoo through Noa’s thick hair while she all but moaned.
“Ooh, that feels good. So, are you dating anyone?”
“Interesting segue.” Looking down into Noa’s upturned face, Fern asked, “Are you asking me out? Because I have dated women, you know.”
Laughing, Noa replied, “You already proposed to me. And, no. I’m waiting for the perfect man.”
“And you think he’ll just show up here?”
“If I’m lucky. It happened for Ben and Liv.”
It had happened for them. Liv moved, met Ben, they fell in love, and they basically got married within two weeks of knowing each other. She turned up in town and got... friendzoned. She wanted what Ben and Liv had.
That was insane.
But she did want it. “How do you guys—shifters, I mean—actually mate with someone?”
When Noa tapped her fingers together like a cartoon villain, Fern laughed, accidentally drenching Noa’s face with the sprayer head. Luckily, she thought it was more funny than unprofessional.
“Buckle up, baby,” Noa said, grinning and rubbing her eyes. “Are you ready for information overload?”
“Oh my god, yes.”
Draping a towel over Noa’s shoulders, Fern ushered her back to the main chair, and they both got down to business. Fern dealt with the cape while Noa began, “Shifters don’t mate with just anyone. We have to be compatible for it to be possible.”
“And how do you know when you’re compatible? Also, I’m going to start a little longer than you indicated, and we’ll take it up from there, good?”
“Perfect. Have at it. Anyway, there’s this thing called potential mates.”
“I’m listening.”
Noa went on to explain how entering a mate bond was a three-step process.
First, a shifter smelled another person who was exceptionally enticing to them.
This was usually accompanied by immediate attraction, something like a normal crush but with an additional “zing.” If both parties were shifters, they usually discussed it immediately.
When one was a human, getting to the conversation could take time.
Fern understood why. She considered herself lucky to have a leg up with all the monster and otherworldly romance she’d consumed before being brought into the world of shifters.
But what if someone had never considered the possibility?
Surely they’d faint. Maybe even run away.
Not her, she liked fear... it did funny things to her body.
Continuing, Noa explained that when potential mates decided to move things forward to the second phase of the bond, they only needed to have sex with the intent of mating.
And no, it wasn’t for the straights-only, though straight couples seemed to be able to get away with a broader definition of sex before risking the next phase.
“So like, hypothetically, sixty-nine with you could bring it on, but sixty-nine with... Elliott... wouldn’t do anything?”
Noa’s nostrils flared as she fought back a grin. “Yeah, that seems to be the gist of it, but I haven’t done much digging.”
Phase two of mating was technically called bonding, but Fern learned they all called it “the compelling” because magic urged both parties to care intensely for each other by meeting any and all needs, from food to cleaning to carrying someone up the stairs just because they had a blister on their heel.
It sounded cute, and it crumpled Fern’s heart.
Dating wasn’t nearly as simple as she thought it would be in Beckett Falls.
Not that she’d thought about it much at all.
“When a couple’s ready to finalize the bond, they have to bite each other.”
“What?!” Fern shrieked, holding her scissors far from Noa’s face while she processed that one.
“Didn’t you notice the scar on Olivia’s thigh?”
“I figured she burned herself on the oven.”
“It’s teeth marks.”
“From a wolf?!”
Noa laughed, going on to explain how one shifter, or the shifter in a human/shifter pairing, would chase down and bite the other to mark them.
Fern dropped her comb—on purpose—so she’d have the opportunity to duck down and stare perplexed at the glossy floor. That’s not what Elliott’s bear was trying to do... right? They hadn’t had sex with intent; they hadn’t even had sex at all. But his bear tried to bite her. Had he tried to mate her?
“Then the other person chases the first one and bites them back. After that, magic settles into place, and you’re connected forever.”
“Like a magic tether, literally?”
Noa nodded.
“I want that,” Fern breathed.
“Don’t we all?”
Snipping away, Fern continued her line of questioning. “So, you have to have sex with the intent of being together forever. That starts the bonding phase, then you move on to the final part by biting each other. What happens if someone gets bitten before having sex? Does that do anything?”
Noa bunched her lips. “It acts in place of sex with intent. It’s like a cheat code to enter the bonding phase.”
“Someone could be trapped that way.” Holy shit. Was that why he’d tried to bite her? Did that mean they were potential mates? No, she was surely overreacting. Maybe his bear just wanted to try it for fun.
With a sigh, Noa agreed. “It’s extremely frowned upon. I’m sure some people decide to do it, but they’re judged. If it happens, the person who’s been marked can still walk away and never complete the bond.”
“And it’ll fade?”
“After a month or so, yeah. If you have a potential mate you’re not into or get bitten by someone acting out of line, you can get out of it by leaving. Once a mate bond’s permanent, you can technically still break it, but it’s way more difficult.”
“Two things. Can non-potential mates start a mate bond? And what’s a true mate?”
“First—” Noa held up two fingers, lowered one, noticed she was flipping Fern the bird, and switched them around. “First, no. Only potential mates or true mates can start a bond.”
Maybe Elliott’s bear just felt chompy. She swallowed a sigh, not sure which reality was preferable.