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She demurely accepted one of the mugs and sipped.
    “You okay?”
    Odd, but he sounded…concerned.
    “Fine. Why do you ask?”
    He beetled his brow for a moment. “I don’t know. I just felt…like you absolutely did not want to be anywhere near your parents at that moment. Like you were really, really stressed. Weird,” he added, sounding faintly mystified.
    She blinked, surprise registering on her face. “You—you could tell that I was feeling stressed? Is that normal for shifters?”
    “Were you stressed?” he countered.
    “Truthfully, I was concerned for your feelings. My parents were being terribly rude, and I was worried you would think I felt the same way.”
    He sipped his drink and did not look directly at her. “I know you don’t.”
    “My parents and I are not exactly the epitome of the loving family,” Cecilia admitted. She tilted her head to the side, studied his features. “Do you have a family? Siblings? Parents?”
    “Yes,” he said shortly. “But I get along with them a hell of a lot better than you do with yours. And to answer your question, no, recognizing someone’s feelings so acutely isn’t normal for shifters. I have no idea what happened. All I know was I had this overwhelming feeling that I needed to get you out of that situation and fast.”
    “Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you,” Cecilia replied. “You’ve done nothing to deserve their wrath, and I knew if we stayed long enough, they would lash out at you, for no other reason other than that you are a shifter.”
    They fell silent, each sipping cider, each lost in his and her own thoughts. After a short while, Cecilia said, “Thank you,” again.
    Finn shrugged and looked at his empty mug. “I’m going to go get a refill. You good?”
    “Yes.”
    He nodded again and walked away.
    * * * *
    What the hell? Bonding with Cecilia Druthers? Finn’s head really was fucked-up. I don’t even like her , he reminded himself.
    So how the hell had he known without Cecilia uttering a word that she did not want to be near her parents? How was that even possible? And even if it was possible, why the hell had he been so damned compelled to help her out of the uncomfortable situation?
    My job is to protect her . The thought made him feel marginally better about his actions. While she hadn’t been in danger, per se, she had certainly been distressed, and to Finn, it amounted to the same thing.
    But then, when they’d stood side by side, sipping cider and falling into an unusually comfortable silence, he was the one who began to feel distressed.
    I have to get out of here . I have to get away from her . He was already attracted to her on both a magical and sexual level. If he started to actually like her as a person too…Shit, he’d probably find himself mated to the damned frustrating female.
    So he stepped away, put distance between them, moved to the other side of the room, where he stood, brooding, sipping cider, and watching her as she mingled with the crowd of mostly lightbearers. Noticed that seemingly all the males in the vicinity tended to migrate toward her. And found himself making his way back to her side, just as the queen stepped up to her, a male lightbearer in tow.
    “Cecilia, dear,” her aunt Genevieve crooned. “This is Derek Jorge. You remember him, don’t you?”
    “Of course I do,” Cecilia said. “I stuck glue up his nose in primary school.”
    Genevieve gave her a disapproving look. “Yes, well, he’s obviously changed quite a bit since primary school. Haven’t you, Derek?”
    “I’m quicker now,” he boasted. “You won’t get something like that past me again.”
    Cecilia tipped her mug of cider…down the front of Derek’s pants.
    “Oops!” she said with feigned shock.
    “You did that on purpose,” Derek accused as he pointlessly wiped at his soaked pants.
    “Oh dear,” Genevieve said.
    “You should probably go change,” Finn advised. “Before someone thinks you wet