“Guest rooms?” She would have thought he’d say “guest cabins.” “Does that mean you guys all live in one big pack house?” Picking up some of the garbage bags at her feet, she headed toward the side exit; Ryan did the same.
“In a sense,” he replied as they stepped outside into the side alley. Like Makenna, he slung the garbage bags into the trash. “Who is Colton to you?” Ryan blurted out, unintentionally abrupt. He inwardly winced. By nature, he was curt and straight to the point. Which meant he often came across as rude and intolerant.
“He’s a volunteer and a friend.” She was panting with exertion after all the hours of hard work, but Ryan hadn’t even broken a sweat. She’d resent him for it if it hadn’t been so pleasurable watching all those muscles bunch and flex.
“Friend? He walks into your personal space like it’s his right.”
“So do you.”
Yeah, well, they weren’t talking about him. “Are you two dating?”
“Why? Are you interested in him? Because I don’t think he swings that way.” She grimaced as a crow landed nearby. “Well, that’s not good.”
Blinking at the sudden change of subject, Ryan glanced at the bird. “What?”
“Seeing one crow on its own is bad luck.” She didn’t add obviously, but it was in her tone.
Ryan looked from her to the bird, feeling compelled to point out, “It’s just a crow.”
“Come on, you’ve heard the rhyme. ‘One for sorrow, two for mirth, etc. . . . ’”
Yes, but still . . . “It’s just a crow.” And that was just a rhyme.
“You’re not at all superstitious?”
“You mean do I have completely illogical beliefs? No.” He’d expected her to be offended. She actually smiled, looking curious.
“So you don’t believe in luck?”
“No.”
“But you believe in fate.”
“No.”
She gaped. “How can you not believe in fate? You’re a shifter. We have predestined mates.”
“That doesn’t mean our lives are written out like a script.” He dictated his fate, no one else.
“But it would suggest that some things are set in stone. There’s a female out there who was pretty much made for you.”
“That doesn’t mean my fate is to spend my life with her.” It was simply a possible path his life would take . . . if he chose that path.
“Okay, that’s true,” Makenna conceded. He could fail to find his mate, or one of them could imprint on someone else. Shifters who weren’t true mates could still come together and form a mating bond through the process of imprinting. It was just as strong and true as a bond between predestined mates. “Are you rejecting the notion of fate because you don’t want to find your mate?”
“No.” Ryan had never feared mating, never feared the commitment. He’d played around, knowing that once he found his mate he’d attach himself to her and that would be that. Simple. He really wasn’t sure why other people found the matter so complicated. “I just don’t believe our lives are dictated by luck or fate or that mating bonds are cosmic, magical things.”
He was so stoic and serious, she mused. Always in enforcer mode. She posted a memo on her mental corkboard to remind her to make Ryan smile at least once before they parted for good. “All right, then what do you think bonds are?”
“Evolutionary measures to ensure procreation.”
That sure surprised her. “You think it’s a genetic thing?”
“Shifters can’t procreate with anyone other than their mates. In that sense, mating bonds ensure the continuation of the shifter races.”
“So you think the bond is some kind of trap?”
“No. I just don’t think it’s anything other than an evolutionary measure, that’s all. Why does that make you smile?”
She shrugged. “Your mind is so practical. It’s fascinating.”
He was certain no one had ever referred to him as “fascinating.” Cold, yes. Merciless, yes. Emotionally sterile, yes. Fascinating? No.
“Well, I believe there are such things as fate and luck. Madisyn is one of the luckiest people I’ve ever met; she’s always winning and finding stuff. And take Zac. I found him unconscious on my doorstep, pumped up on alcohol and drugs. In that state, he could have ended up in a number of places; he was hurt and vulnerable. But it was my doorstep he found his way to—a person who could lead him someplace safe. That right there is an example of a higher power at work.”
His mother’s voice was suddenly ringing in Ryan’s head . . . “I should have waited for my true mate! This is my punishment from fate for betraying him by imprinting on your father!”
No, his mother was miserable because of her own choices—something she’d never taken responsibility for. She’d blamed fate, the universe, his father, everything and everyone but her. “There’s no such thing as a higher power,” Ryan insisted. People were in charge of their own destinies. If they fucked up their lives, it was their own fault and they needed to own it. “Zac could have still ended up here at some point. How did you end up here?”