Rae’s curiosity flared. “What happened? Did you kill them? Is that why you said they didn’t live forever?”

“The one who’s the good guy is living in Canada. Toronto, last time I checked. He goes to butchers and drinks cow blood. The other—yeah, I had to kill him. I didn’t mind so much that he wanted to suck on my blood, but when he got away from me, he went after a human woman and her kiddies, so I offed him.”

Zander explained this calmly, as though he’d shrugged, said oh, well, and had broken the vampire’s neck.

Rae squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again. “How is it that I’ve only ever heard of vampires in stories but you walk around bumping into them?”

Zander moved to towel off his back and the blanket slipped down to hug his hips. “The biggest reason is that vamps avoid Shiftertowns. No vamp is stupid enough to walk into a town full of Fae-bred Shifters who would smell them coming ten miles away. Another reason . . .” He shrugged his large shoulders. “I get around. See the world, meet people.”

“I’ve never been anywhere but Montana.” Again the wistfulness. Rae loved her life in Montana, hiking with her brothers, Logan and Colin, arguing with them and making up, hanging out with her friends, sleeping in her own bed knowing she was well protected by her father. Safe. Never alone.

“You’re not in Montana anymore,” Zander pointed out. “How do you like the world?”

Rae glanced out the open cabin door behind him. “Bigger than I thought it would be.”

Zander chuckled. “Tell you what, Little Wolf. While we’re training, I’ll take you around, show you some of this world you want to see. Give you a taste of life before you bury yourself back in your Shiftertown.”

“I like my Shiftertown,” Rae said quickly.

“I know you do. But you can get tunnel vision if you never go anywhere. You stop thinking.”

“You mean you don’t have tunnel vision sitting out here in a boat all by yourself?” Rae returned. “What about your family? Your clan? Where are they? Or are you an orphan like me?”

“Oh, I have a clan.” Zander let the blanket drop all the way. “I stay the hell away from them, and we’re all happy.”

Rae’s gaze followed the blanket to the floor, her mouth going dry. Zander took up a large part of the cabin, his muscles playing under wet skin as he calmly dropped the damp towel and caught up another dry one.

He was large but not ungainly, moving with a grace that belied his size. The tats on his biceps and lower back were part of him—the ink had been etched into his skin but didn’t look artificial.

Rae realized he was watching her, waiting for her response. She snapped her gaze from his flat abdomen and the arrow of dark hair below it to his face, which held amusement.

“How can you live apart from your clan?” she asked, her voice a croak. “Don’t you miss them?”

Zander’s eyes flickered and his humor died. “Let’s just say I don’t fit in. I think they’re close-minded pains in the ass and they think I’m effing crazy. They tell me I should find some way to get rid of my healing ability and stay in hiding with them. Do nothing all day but fish—eat, fish—eat. We get along much better when we don’t live near each other.”

Rae wouldn’t have understood that a few weeks ago but she did now. Zander’s clan obviously couldn’t handle the fact that he had Goddess magic. It tingled through him and made him nuts, like the magic was making her. His people probably regarded him in grave suspicion, not understanding why he couldn’t be “normal” like them. Just like the Montana Shifters now did to her.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Zander stilled, the towel around his neck. He looked down at her, really looked at her, his dark eyes filled with something she couldn’t read.

“You’re sweet, Little Wolf.”

The growl had left his voice. For the first time, Zander seemed aware that he was alone with her, truly alone. They were Shifters, unmated, not related, their only tie having been chosen by the Goddess while they’d been standing around minding their own business.

Shifters had no taboo against an unmated male and female sharing a bed for comfort and sex. It tainted neither of their reputations nor hurt their chances for a permanent mating down the line. As long as Rae wasn’t mate-claimed by another Shifter, both she and Zander were considered fair game.

The only taboo, apart from stealing someone else’s mate-claimed mate, was having sex with a member of one’s own clan. Shifters had an instinct to not weaken their genetic code by breeding too close to the line, which was why the Lupines in Rae’s Shiftertown avoided her.

Zander was a bear, purely so, from what Eoin had said, so there was no chance that he was related to her. He was lonely, as was Rae, and she was a long way out of her comfort zone. It would only be natural for them to turn to each other.

Rae realized in a flash that this was another reason Eoin had sent her out here. If she formed a relationship with Zander, that would solve the problem of finding Rae a mate. Guardians had difficulty as it was—as Zander had said, while Shifters revered Guardians, they didn’t want to be reminded of death every second.

If Rae mated with Zander, she’d be under his protection, and Eoin could exhale in relief.

In the moment Rae formed these conclusions, Zander brushed one finger down her cheek.

Knowing she and Zander were being coerced didn’t change the fire in his touch, didn’t change the heat that ran through Rae.

She looked up into eyes that weren’t entirely black, as she’d thought, but a very, very dark brown that blended into his pupils. One of his white-colored braids fell forward and touched her shoulder.

Slowly Rae lifted her hand and placed it on his. A flicker lit Zander’s eyes. He understood.

He bent to her, drawing closer, his wet lashes sweeping down as he shifted his gaze to her lips. Rae’s heartbeat sped as fire flowed along her spine to fix her in place.

They moved closer. Zander’s breath touched her, tangling with hers. A droplet of water from his hair trickled across her shoulder, dampening the strap of her tank top. His face was an inch from hers, mouth so close that Rae would only have to lift the tiniest bit for their lips to meet.

There was strength in his face, in his mouth, and she imagined his kiss would hold as much force, as much deftness, as he’d shown wielding the sword, a weapon that was a work of art.