Ignoring the hot glare on my back, I strutted out of the courthouse with heavy steps to take the stairs to the sidewalk in twos. My mom’s anger reached out for me, from behind, like inky, black tentacles, suckering to my skin and making goose bumps wash my arms and my thighs underneath my pants. The past twenty-four hours in a jail cell, even a holding cell, wasn’t something I wanted to do again.

Both my mother and I knew I’d gotten lucky, because that judge didn’t have a problem with my breaking my fist over someone’s face for making unwanted advances. Well, as long as I didn’t make it a habit of it. Which I won’t.

“C.K., I hope you realize that this is a lesson - you need to stop this dangerous behavior before you end up pissing off the wrong person.” I twisted to wait for my mother as she called out to me, leaning back on my heels and sighing heavily. The warm sun of early twilight bounced off her straight, golden hair, shimmering to highlight the strands as they curled into a tight bun against the nape of her neck.

She was really a beautiful woman, my mother. Tall and shapely, with muscle; there was no doubt she could’ve been an angel in a past life. If I believed in that nonsense.

Anger played on my mother’s features in a way that only made her more stunning and I rubbed my cheeks, roughly, with my palms before opening my mouth.

“Mom, just relax, okay? You don’t need to highlight how crappy sitting in that holding cell was. I get it. I learned my lesson.” My mom came up next to and hooked her arm around mine with a firm nod, as if she’d personally taught me that lesson. I smirked slightly as we made our way down the sidewalk and towards the center of town. I relished the slight breeze and the bustling of people just getting off work.

This was my favorite time of the day, after all. This was the time when people were tired from work, but excited enough about being off to summon the energy to do things. They went shopping, grabbed dinner, or went out with co-workers to celebrate being released from voluntary servitude.

After spending all night in a quiet holding cell, surrounded by assholes and idiots alike, I couldn’t put into words how happy I was to be engulfed in activity.

“Did you get him good, at least?” I turned my gaze to my mom and arched a brow as she stared at me innocently for a long moment, before laughing. I bopped my head in a nod, giggling at her, as we took a corner leisurely, and it wasn’t long before she calmed herself enough to speak. “I bet your dad would enjoy that story. You should call him when we get home.”

“I might. I haven’t called him in a while.” Thinking of my father dulled my smile, and my lips thinned out as my mother and I lapsed into silence. I hadn’t actually seen my dad since my birthday, but we had something of a good relationship.

Considering he left my mom for his mate when I was five …

That thought drew my mind to Paul, and my heart squeezed lightly in its cage. Through my pubescent years, I grew up listening to stories from my father and step-mom and from my friends’ parents, about meeting my mate. Like every other female, I had fantasies about that fateful day when I would find my other half.

Being a shifter came with expectations, and mine had been dashed violently when I realized Paul didn’t recognize me. After hours and hours of overnight thinking, wracking my brain for an answer, I came up with two.

Either Paul wasn’t connected to his beast, for some reason, or he wasn’t a shifter. Both of those situations suck.

“What are you thinking about so hard, McKayla? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you make that face.” I jerked back to the moment and my head ached lightly from the force. I paused my walking to rub my eyes with my fists. Colors popped in the darkness behind my lids, and when I peeked beyond my knuckles, I found my mother frowning at me. “If this is about your father, I -“

“No- no… it’s not…” I quickly diverted what I knew would be the ‘I don’t hate him’ speech, and crossed my arms under my breasts to blow out a breath into the warm, late summer air. “I just… I met my mate - he was in the cell next to me … it’s a wild, crazy story, but the point is… I’m pretty sure, he’s human.”

“You’re ‘pretty sure’ he’s human?” Just as I’d always suspected, my mom didn’t as much as twitch, at the fact that something so profound had happened to me. She didn’t have the best luck with men and it was hard for her to be happy for me. Despite completely understanding this, I couldn’t help but frown at her bland question, and I nodded firmly.

“Yeah, pretty sure. Let’s go find a place to eat and I’ll tell you all about it, okay?” Starting up again, I walked with my mom towards a little Thai place we liked to go to, but my thoughts moved much faster than I did. Shifters, like my mom and me, weren’t guaranteed a single mate; instead, the universe played tricks on us in the form of potential mates. Sometimes they were human, sometimes not, but levels of compatibility varied drastically.

That was why my mom wasn’t with my dad. Hers was a common enough occurrence, but the entire set of circumstances was still frustrating. After a slew of failed relationships and weak bonds, my mom had just decided that enough was enough.

But my bond with Paul was strong- strong enough to make me want to seek him out despite the way we met and his obvious oblivion.

“So, all of that aside for the moment, how do you feel about helping me cook for the next block party? I was thinking of making a couple pans of lasagna, and I know you’re not the greatest in the kitchen. You can shred the cheese for me.” I groaned loudly and automatically started shaking my head at the very idea of cooking. My mom’s laugh was loud, rising above the bustling sidewalk and the sound of cars stuck in traffic, and she grinned wearily. “That’s what I thought. But, I still want you to come over Saturday morning. Sound good?”

“Yeah, sound’s good, Mom. You know I like bowling.” My confirmation blew away thoughts of my mate, for the moment, and I focused on the much more fun topic instead. The event was called a block party, but it was usually held in a bowling alley, owned by one of the shifters who lived in the area. Oftentimes, my kind couldn’t stand each other for more than a few hours, so the party was a good way to exchange information and enjoy ourselves without worrying.

After all, bear shifters were solitary creatures, and my mother and I were no different. If we lived together, I highly doubted that we’d have the relationship we currently have.

Plus, there was bowling.