They’ve found mates. If they can catch a woman, so can you.” My father sat at the head of the table, the flat of his hand thumping the tabletop and punctuating his words, laying down the law. While he was busy lecturing me, I stared at my mother. She stood by the stove, stirring a pot for our dinner and nodding the whole time. Her jaw-length blonde hair swished around her face, confirming she agreed with her life partner. My feline self snarled inside. It was as if they were joined at the hip, programmed to make the same decisions. Think the same things. Fine for them. My fingers closed around the can of beer on the table in front of me while I acknowledged I was a puzzle to my parents. A twenty-five-year-old disappointment. They couldn’t work out why I wasn’t out chasing skirt like the rest of my friends, like the rest of the male shifters of marriageable age. My father droned on, repeating more of the same. Although my mouth curled in a lazy grin, I was anything but relaxed. “What about the Matthews girl?
