Page 105 of Rocky Top

“I can’t marry him, Birdie.”

I blinked. “Well, that’s one way to lose your deposit.”

She let out a wet laugh, half-sob, half-snort. “I’m serious.”

“I know,” I said softly, stepping closer, brushing a tear off her cheek. “But why don’t you tell me what’s got you unraveling like a spool of grandma’s yarn?”

She sank onto the velvet stool in front of the mirror, dress puffing around her like an expensive cloud. “Knox told me everything. About Mark.”

I froze. “Everything?”

She nodded. “He didn’t just die in prison. He was killed. By an animal. Ripped out his throat.”

My throat tightened. I looked away, busying my hands with the sample bouquet I’d been carrying around like a damn idiot. “Do you know who?”

She shook her head. “No. And I didn’t ask. I don’t think I wanna know.”

Smart girl.

“But it’s gotta be him.”

“Eliza, I…”

“There’s more,” she cut in, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Knox said Mark wasn’t born a shifter. He was made.”

I blinked. “Made? Like us?”

“No. Apparently some priestess did it. Not by bite. By chicken magic. Dark Voodoo shit. Which means…”

“Emma,” I breathed, already knowing the answer.

“Exactly.” Her voice cracked. “If he was turned before she was conceived, she might be different too.”

My brain spun with all I’d been holding back from my best friend, as I was reminded, Emma. Sweet, bubble-blowing Emma. Different. Targeted.

“He thinks that’s why Mark kidnapped us,” Eliza continued. “And why those men wanted her blood. For something.”

I didn’t know what to say. Hell, there wasn’t anything to say that would make it better. It was awful. I couldn’t muster a classic birdie smile. I wasn’t just a shifter. Something in me had changed. Or maybe it was simply my eyes were open to a new dangerous world.

She sniffled and stared down at her hands. “I’m about to call off the wedding.”

My chest clenched. “Why?”

“Because he kept it from me. Lied, even if it was by omission. How am I supposed to trust him after that?”

I knelt in front of her, gripping her cold hands. “Because he loves you. And because he did it to protect you. Not saying it was right, but I’ve seen how that man looks at you. Like you hung the damn moon.”

She started crying again. Big, hiccupy sobs that pulled at every tender string I had left in me.

“I haven’t even shifted,” she whispered. “What if I’m broken, Bird?”

“You’re not.”

“You didn’t see the look on Knox’s face last week. He bit me again, just to try to stir something. Nothing happened. No bond. No instincts. Nothing.”

I squeezed her hands tighter. “Maybe it’s the pregnancy. Maybe your fox is just waiting ‘til the baby’s born to come out.”

“That’s what Knox said too.” Her bottom lip trembled. “Rumor is, I’m a dud. A failed bite.”

---