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p; Harrison frowned. *Why aren’t you singing and dancing?*

*Do I have to tell you?*

*She’s human. It shouldn’t matter.* Harrison strode in front of Arlo and stopped, arms crossed. “It doesn’t matter, does it?”

Arlo knew what he meant, and the knowledge tasted bitter. When Harrison first met his human mate, Lainie, Arlo had behaved like an ass. He’d fully bought the Sweets’ line that Hideaway Cove could only be a sanctuary for shifters if they didn’t let any humans settle there. He’d been afraid to lose the one place he’d been able to call home. And now?

Did he know better, now, or was he just afraid in a different way?

*Doesn’t matter anyway,* he said. *Look at me. I’m not the sort of man a woman like that would want to date.*

“Huh! Is that what you think?” Harrison clapped him on the back and pulled his shirt off over his head. “Come on. A run’ll clear your head.”

He kicked his pants off and shifted. Harrison’s griffin form was almost as magnificent as Pol’s dragon, but the effect was slightly spoiled by him pecking around to pick up his discarded clothes.

Arlo shucked off his own clothes and shifted. His wolf stretched its legs, snapping its jaws as it shook off his human anxieties.

He nosed his clothes into a bundle and picked them up in his jaws.

*Race you,* Harrison laughed, and took off. His wings flashed in the sunlight and Arlo caught a swell of amazement from the Land Rover.

*Flying’s cheating!* he called back. *Try running on those mismatched legs and see how far you get!*

By the time he got to the house at the top of the hill, Arlo was panting and, if not happy, then at least at some sort of equilibrium. He nosed through the front door and made his way to the guest shower.

“You need a change of clothes?” Harrison called from elsewhere in the house when he’d finished washing.

“These are—” fine, he’d about to say, then he actually looked at the clothes he’d brought up. His shirt was so faded even he couldn’t remember what color it had once been, his pants had scuffs on the knees, and there were distinctly wolf-bite-shaped drool marks over everything. “Uh. Thanks.”

“You know, you can’t rely on a human to pick up on the mate bond straight away. You’re going to have to rely on your good old-fashioned charm and good looks.” Harrison tossed a bundle of clothes into the bathroom.

Arlo sighed. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

Showered, dressed, and full of dread, Arlo found Harrison on the deck outside. Harrison was laying out lunch on a picnic table overlooking the cove.

Arlo couldn’t help but whistle. “This is just for lunch?”

“We do a lot of entertaining these days, what with me being the mayor and Lainie trying to steal allies off the Sweets,” Harrison said frankly. “We count you among the already stolen, by the way.”

“Sure.” He wandered over to the table and reached for a bowl of brightly colored prawn crackers. An eagle-like screech stopped him.

“Sorry about that.” Harrison cleared his throat. “Those are Lainie’s. I won’t kill you if you eat them, but she might. We have to order them in special.”

“Message received.” Arlo pulled his hand back as the Land Rover pulled up on the other side of the house. His wolf pricked its ears up. She’s here!

Arlo smoothed down his shirt nervously and Harrison snorted at him. Footsteps clattered as the others entered the house.

“Showers are through there, lunch is—oh, God. Lunch. Harrison, can you show them around? I need to eat.”

Lainie descended on the lunch table like a seagull who’d just discovered the world’s biggest bowl of fries. She hugged the bowl of prawn crackers to her stomach and sat down with a sigh. “I should have invested in these instead of land…” She closed her eyes and popped a cracker in her mouth. “Mmm.”

Arlo sat down awkwardly opposite her.

“How’s that going?” he asked.

Lainie cracked an eye open. “Not fantastic,” she said. “Are you sure there isn’t a secret all-shifter newsletter for real estate?”


Tags: Zoe Chant Hideaway Cove Paranormal