“Fine,” she snarled. Look at her, acting all wolfy. Besides, she was cold.
She bolted inside before Ben could open the door and sat stiffly on a kitchen chair, closest to the living room. Ben eased down on her left, running a hand through his hair. He looked, uneasy. Pained, even. She refused to be concerned.
Finally he leaned forward, forearms resting on the table. “At least you’re not running away from me.” He studied the tabletop with his thumb, the sensual rubbing making her nipples poke out for the same touch.
Stupid nipples. “I’m too angry to run.”
His brow creased. “Because I didn’t tell you or because of who I am?”
“Both.”
“Will.” He looked at her, his voice low as he appealed to her logical side. “You have to understand why we don’t go around announcing what we are to everyone.”
Logic be damned. “So I’m considered everyone?”
A flash of temper rose in his eyes before he squashed it. “No. You’re special.”
Bastard. “Oh, really?”
When he reached across the table she shoved her chair back. Interestingly, Ben squeezed his eyes shut and the hands on the table fisted again. It was obvious he wanted to touch her, but she would not capitulate. She’d given enough of herself.
“We’re called shifters. Like the fabled werewolves, we heal faster than humans, but not immediately. We’re also stronger, faster, have a much higher metabolism rate, and possess keener senses. Unlike the fictional werewolf, we are not allergic to silver or live for hundreds of years, and we don’t make others through our bite. While it’s rare one of our kind contracts a disease, we still age and can die as easily as a human, or a timber wolf, for that matter.”
So she wasn’t going to turn furry next full moon. Good to know. “Is everyone in this town a...shifter?”
A definite shake of his head. “No. Only about one-fourth of the male population. Dean is not only the mayor, he’s the pack alpha.” From there he proceeded to explain the pack structure, looking proud when he claimed he was one of the eight leaders and also one of a handful of his kind strong enough to rein in their beast on the full moon. These few held enough control they could shift forms outside of the magical pull, which was why he was able to come to her on all fours those first two nights.
Her eyes got bigger, her brows buried under the soft sweep of her bangs. But one thing stood out the most. “The male population?”
A slow nod. “Only the males can shift into wolf form. The females can’t.”
Her feminist side shouted “double standard rip-off” while she simply asked, “Why?”
His head tilted to the side. “If they had to change every full moon, they wouldn’t be able to carry our young.”
Willow’s heart flipped in her chest. The thought of carrying Ben’s young should terrify her, but the idea of a little boy with his hair and bronze eyes running around, laughing, just like his daddy, filled her with a deep longing.
Turning her mind from the impossible, she instead focused on his information, relieved her new friends weren’t werewolves. “So the females are basically human.” It wasn’t a question.
“Ah. No.” At her questioning look, Ben explained. “Most of the women in town, like the men, are indeed human. Take Kaylie. Even though she’s married to my alpha, she’s one hundred percent human.”
Willow nodded. “So Tess is—”
“A shifter. In the sense that she is faster and stronger than a human and her senses are keener than a human’s. But she can’t shift form.”
Well. There went her relief bubble. Ben made it sound like Tess, and all the female shifters actually, were sort of like super humans. She’d have to think more on that concept, but now back to more questions. “If Kaylie is human and Dean is, uh, not, what is Lukas?” Their cute little baby.
Ben shifted in his seat. “Lukas is a shifter and before you ask, he won’t be able to turn until he hits puberty.” He lowered his torso over the table, holding her gaze with the same good deal of warmth and intimacy as when he held her hand. “You see, there’s only a small percentage of the world’s female population that has the compatible DNA to produce male shifter offspring. Out of that number there’s only one or two who will cause a male shifter to, let’s say, stand up and take notice. When they touch for the first time, they initiate a, mating heat, if you will, that causes this man and woman to, get to know one another better.”
Uh-huh. She blinked at him. “Mating heat?” Fitting name for this near overwhelming arousal, this uncanny awareness when Ben was around. Even now she was wet and ready for him. And now she finds it it wasn’t just a physical reaction, it came from deep within her DNA.