Page 45 of Cursed

Rourke turns bright pink and chuckles. “Whatever my mate needs.”

My eyes water. To hear Rourke call me his mate makes my heart sing, then ache. I want to accept him and his bond, but I’m only starting to heal from his rejection.

“Hey?” He brushes my cheek with his heated hand. “No pressure. I’ll wait for an eternity for your love and forgiveness. I know I still have a lot to make up for.”

I hug him around the neck, and he lets me slide down to stand on my own.

Arden has a thick, woven mat in his hands. He places it on the ground and points for me to stand on it, not on the cold, dead grass.

I see both Quade and Rourke don’t have their shoes on.

Rourke grins. “Shifter thing. We all run hot.”

Quade has a soft blanket in his hands. “Strip. We don’t want the clothing to get caught on you or to waste a perfectly good sweatshirt.”

I pull off Arden’s giant sweatshirt that’s more of a dress than anything. I shiver a second before Quade wraps the blanket over my shoulders.

“It appears youareaffected by the cold,” Quade notices, thoughtfully running his fingers through his hair. “That might indicate you aren’t a shifter after all.”

“Or perhaps shape-shifters don’t have the same traits as a wolf,” Landis suggests. “We know little to nothing about them.”

Feeling like I’m in one of those nightmares where you are supposed to take a test, but are completely naked and haven’t studied, I ask, “So, now what?”

My shifter professor holds my shoulders and looks me in the eye. “Whatever happens, shift or no shift, remember that we love you.”

“And you are not your father,” Rourke assures me with a stroke down my back. “So, even if you are a shape-shifter, that doesn’t truly change who you are inside. Which is a beautiful soul.”

With their sweet reminders, I blush and avert my gaze. I was nervous about becoming a monster like both of my parents apparently are. If Rourke can begin to overcome his monstrous parentage and upbringing, then I can too.

“Breathe in,” Quade guides me. “Close your eyes. Go deep within yourself. Is there an image that comes to mind, something that doesn’t quite feel like you?”

I follow his instructions, worried that I will find something horrific hiding inside me. When I finally allow my worries to subside, Iseesomething, but it isn’t a creature or even a shape.

It’s what Arden and Landis see in me—a cloud of sparkling energy. Their nicknames for me, Sparkles and Midnight Glimmer, come to mind.

I huff, give up, and open my eyes. “Nothing.”

“You sparkled… but more than usual,” Arden says with awe.

“I did? What does that mean? Am I not a shifter?”

Quade rubs his chin in his classic teacher mode, thinking our puzzle out. “It only means you’re probably not a typical shifter. You didn’t see or sense a wolf or dragon inside you?”

I shake my head and pull my blanket tighter, feeling self-conscious.

I want to be more like them, shifting and flying through the sky or racing through the woods with abandon. My mind drifts, imagining how wonderful that would feel to be with my mates in their other forms and resonate with them.

“Shayla?Somethingis happening,” Quade whispers.

My hands are glowing, but other than that, nothing. I glance under my blanket and find my whole body lighting up.

Quade theorizes, “Maybe shapeshifters use a different kind of magic when they transform.”

I close my eyes again, and… nothing. Still just the same nebulous sparkle blob.

“Nothing. Apparently I’m just a glow worm.”

Rourke smirks. “Come on, you are, at the very least, a firefly.”

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