Moonbound (Moonfate Serial Book 1) by Sylvia Frost Read Free Book Online

never touch. Not so much as a hello.”
    “I don’t get it.”
    He gives me a sardonic glance. “The point is, there’s no animal gayer than a pufferfish.”
    “Is this some kind of weird stand-up routine?”
    “My matebond is very different from yours. Unlike you, I’m not bonded to anyone, really. This”—he gives a fancy gesture to his mark—“may as well be a tattoo.” He cocks his head. “Well, a tattoo that allows me to transform into a fish and relax in my swimming pool when I’m in the mood. Which, despite the long winter, is actually a lot more often than you’d think.”
    Holy crap is he quirky.
    And holy crap, how is there so much I didn’t know about werebeasts? I didn’t even know there were werepufferfish until this morning. Not to mention the whole mate-invading-my-mind-and-dreams-from-seventy-miles-away thing.
    What else am I missing?
    Maybe he’s just screwing with me.
    My eyes narrow. “How have I not heard about the different kinds of matemarks before?”
    “We weres try to keep a lot of our biology on the down-low. And most werebeasts do have strong matemarks—especially predators. Not that your scientists would ever know the difference, when you humans are still fixated on casting us as some kind of bad guy determined to voodoo our way into your females’ pants and slaughter your children. It’s a lot more complicated than that.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “Hence my calling it complicated.” He rolls his eyes, but it’s a good-natured sort of annoyance. “But I’d figure even the Spark Notes version might help you avoid your mate better.”
    “How do you even know I’m avoiding him?” I take the napkin and push the salt pile into my hand before dumping it in the trash.
    “Your smell. It’s classic anti-were spray, homemade too. Vinegar, chili peppers? All you’re missing is a silver cross to help you ‘fight your urges’.” He puts air quotes around the last part.
    I roll my eyes. “I’m not some idiot obsessed with old myths. And I don’t have any urges.”
    “Oh, trust me, ignoring the urges just makes it harder. Which I guess brings me to my point.” He gives a bitter sigh as he steeples his fingers in front of his blunt nose. “I think my employer may have found out about my preference for guys. And I have a feeling that if he discovers Lawrence and I had relations, he might try to set us right. He’s very much against any relationship outside of the werebeast-weremate bond. Something of a traditionalist. While he knows it’s not the same for fish as it is for wolves, it doesn’t really matter. The whole maintaining-tradition thing is kind of his quest.”
    The rest of his monologue blurs by me as I fixate on a phrase. “Set you right? What do you mean?” My familiar friend, anxiety, is waking up, slithering through my veins and turning them cold.
    “Well…” He holds up a finger for a long moment. “He might, I don’t know, rough up us a bit.” He twirls his index finger vaguely. “Bloody nose. Broken arm. Lost limb.”
    “Lost limb!”
    “Don’t you wish you gave me that drink first now? And probably got one for yourself, too?”
    Anger flares in my chest. All this time I had thought the danger from werebeasts would come when my mate found me. I never thought they would come after Lawrence. For what, being gay? That was so 1950s. Then again, werebeasts are practically Victorian legends.
    God, I’ve run my whole life. I’ve sacrificed any hope of a normal existence, and trouble still finds the people that I care about? Enough.
    I lean forward on my elbows, so close to him that my nose almost grazes his blunt one. “I want you to leave. I want to never see you and your kind again. Not near Lawrence and not near me. In fact, you’re going to do everything in your fishy little power to keep your fucking werebeast boss from following us, too.” I lean forward one more inch, my eyes boring into his. “Got it?”
    He’s not impressed