Page 9 of Grace of a Wolf 2
"That's..." My voice comes out flat, emotionless. "That's impossible. Humans can't be fated mates with shifters."
Lyre snorts. "Says who?"
"Says... everyone. It's common knowledge. Fated mates are a shifter thing. It's about compatibility between wolves. Humans don't have that... that biological imperative."
"You sure about that?"
"Yes." But even as I say it, doubt creeps in. Lyre doesn't make things up. At least, I don't think she does.
Lyre crosses her arms. "And yet here we are, with you nearly dead from transference overload."
I shake my head slowly, my thoughts spinning out of control.
If what she's saying is true... if Caine and I are actually fated mates...
My mind races back through every interaction, every moment we've shared. The way my skin prickled with awareness whenever he entered a room. The inexplicable pull I felt toward him from the very beginning—the strange gravity causing me to revolve around him.
How my body seemed to recognize his before my mind did.
The intensity of my reactions to his touch, his scent, his voice. The way my heart raced and my stomach fluttered and my breath caught in my throat. The heat pooling low in my belly whenever he looked at me with those storm-cloud eyes.
I'd attributed it all to fear, to adrenaline, to simple physical attraction.
But what if it was more? What if it was biological? Inevitable?
And then there was Caine himself. The brutal, dangerous Lycan King who tracked me down without any clear motive.
I'd let him in. Dropped my guard. Let him touch me.
Despite all logic and reason, despite all self-preservation instinct, I'd been drawn to him like a moth to flame.
"Oh." The sound escapes my lips as realization crashes over me. "Oh. It makes so much sense now."
Lyre lets out a soft snort. "Figured it out, have you?"
I press my palm against my forehead, feeling light-headed. "But it's not possible. I'm just... human."
"Not impossible. Improbable." Lyre corrects me with a flick of her slender wrist. "There's a difference."
My mind stumbles over this distinction. Not impossible means... possible. My entire worldview shifts.
"So humans and shifters can be fated mates. Even when the human doesn't have a wolf soul?"
"It happens. Rare, but it happens." Lyre grabs a strand of her hair, twisting it in one hand as she squints at the ceiling. "The idea of mate bonds being only through wolf souls is also incorrect. Their soul is a dyad. A twinsoul, if you will. The wolf's half of it is just more sensitive to things like a fated connection. It's steeped in magic, after all."
"Oh." I'm learning things we've never been taught in school. In fact, I'm pretty sure the stuff coming out of Lyre would be considered werewolf heresy.
I wait for her to continue, but she simply studies me with those unsettling cat-slit eyes. The silence stretches between us.
Once it gets too long and awkward, I ask, "What?"
She sighs. "I told you before—you're a special case."
Rewinding my brain, I vaguely recall something along those lines. I'd been a bit distracted and hadn't focused on her words though. "Special how?"
Lyre's gaze drifts to the window as she doesn't answer.
I frown. "Come on, Lyre. What do you mean, I'm a special case?"
