If You Were A Shifter...

"Fine," grumbled Paul as he looked at me. "We've dealt with the fact that a bunch of little shits that these adult men can't seem to control managed to break into my establishment, caused damage, and terrified my employee. Great. Now, we can move on to the real issue here."

I blinked rapidly, trying to figure out what the other issue was… was he mad that I didn't call and made him worry? Was he mad that I stayed at a boy's house for the night?

There were a bunch of things that he could be upset about.

"Can someone tell me just what a mate is and why my daughter apparently has four of them?" Paul asked, leaning his hip against the counter as he folded his arms across his chest.

Oh…

That.

"You see, Sir," replied Raphael soothingly as he took a step closer to Paul. "A mate is—"

"Wasn't asking you," reassured Paul, his gaze never leaving mine.

"A mate is essentially our spouse," I started, trying to figure out the best way to explain the concept to the human. "Technically, they are believed to be our perfect match, a genetic equal that would allow the union to produce multiple offspring."

There, science was always the better way to go when it came to reproductive matters.

"Nice try, but I've known you all your life. You don't do that unless you are trying to calm me down. You," said Paul, turning to Lucien. "You don't seem to bullshit. What are mates."

"Mates are the one thing in this world that is meant to be yours. They are your perfect match, the other half of your soul. It is said that the Moon Goddess gives you only one chance to be complete, to be whole, and if you lose it, it's gone forever," grunted Lucien, and even I was amazed at how the big lug managed to make it sound.

I had nothing against the man; he was one of my mates, but if I didn't know who he was and what he meant to me, he would terrify me—in broad daylight, in the middle of a crowd.

His eyes glowed red even when he was at his calmest, but when he talked about the importance of a mate, they shone, his pupils taking on an almost silver ring to them as his wolf fought for dominance.

But it was more than just his eyes.

He was at least 6'5 and towered over me; his black bangs fell into his eyes more often than not, causing him to always have to flip his hair…

And when he ran his fingers through them… well, then he just looked like a porn star. But I was slightly biased.

And don't even get me started on the fact that he smells like a bonfire. Between the four of them, it's like I was smelling s'mores being cooked, and it made me damn hungry.

That was probably the trick to getting fated pairs together… make them smell so good that all you wanted to do was lick and eat them like candy bars.

Paul turned to look at me. "Is that true?" he asked softly, his hand stretching out to caress my face. "Are they your soul mates?"

I sighed, refusing to look at the four men with whom I shared a connection. "Yes… and no. I guess it depends on whether you believe that you have a soul or not," I cringed. I knew that Paul absolutely believed that his wife was his soulmate, and he hadn't looked at another woman since she passed.

He was definitely going to be on the guys' side with this one.

"Nope," said Paul, adding extra emphasis on the 'P' sound. "Not happening."

"Excuse me, Sir?" Dominik replied, looking more than a bit upset. "What are you saying no to?"

"My 18 year old daughter is not going to be conned by a bunch of men in their mid 20s into doing shit all. She isn't old enough," hissed Paul, pulling me into his arms for a hug. I have to admit, I really liked it when he referred to me as his daughter.

"Technically, 18 is when shifters normally find their mates," pointed out Damien, trying to be the voice of reason.

In my heart, I wished him the best of luck. He was lucky that Paul didn't have a shotgun or something. Oh, wait… he did, with shifter bullets, too.

I love inventing new things.

"Oh, I see," nodded Paul, his grip shifting on the gun. "So all of you are 18, and I got your ages wrong?"

"Ah, no," replied Damien, cringing a bit. I am 26, while Raphael and Dominik are both 25 and Lucien is the youngest at 24."

"I see," nodded Paul again, this time slowly. "So, where was your mate when you turned 18?"

The four men looked at him blankly. "We didn't have one, Sir; she wasn't 18 at the time."

"No, she wasn't. In fact, when you were 18, she was 10. She is much too young for one of you, let alone all four. Nope. Not having it. This is my precious daughter, and I am not giving her to you just because some goddess thinks that it is a good match."

I leaned into Paul's embrace, breathing in his scent. It was muddled, with so many scents overlapping. To me, humans didn't smell like nature or food. They had a unique scent all their own.

Trust me, I had been to enough human comic cons to know that humans have a very distinct scent when they don't mute it with deodorants and the like. Hell, it was the whole reason why I came up with the descenter in the first place!

"It is more than just that," struggled Lucien as his wolf pushed to the surface. "She is literally it for us. There is no one else. If we lose her, we are destined to be alone for the rest of our lives."

"Yes, well, that is all well and good. But I don't know you four from a hole in the ground. You aren't getting my daughter so easily," sneered Paul, pulling me further away from the guys.

Dominik blinked. "You know, if you were a shifter, then you would understand just want a momentous occasion this is."