Marked Northern Shifters 1

hand and led him through the crowd. The heat and the music and Liam all turned Alec on. He needed these connections and for now, under a new moon, the city was safe.
It wasn’t far to his building—Alec lived downtown—but by the time they’d walked two blocks, he was staving off second thoughts. Liam was a silent presence, who responded to Alec’s comments and questions with monosyllables. Alec lost some of his confidence and walking up the stairs to his dingy, tilted, one-room apartment did not help.
Still, he unlocked the door and, with a gesture, invited Liam in. He promptly strode across the small space, making Alec think of a caged animal. Liam moved with a fluid strength. No doubt he was stronger than Alec had first realized. His arms weren’t thick but they were pure muscle and that observation made Alec hot again. Through his windows he heard the music. Yes, life had become all about being careful, but Alec still needed some release.
“Would you like a beer?” asked Alec to break their silent stare. This was not the smoothest prefuck dance he’d been part of.
“No. Thank you.”
Was it Alec’s imagination or had Liam turned a little pale? He prowled again, examining Alec’s apartment.
“This is my place,” Alec said blandly, insisting on the obvious.
“Cozy.”
Alec searched Liam’s face for contempt or condescension—the man wore expensive clothes and probably lived in an expensive place—but Liam apparently meant it. He frowned under Alec’s scrutiny.
    What the hell. Stop thinking, Alec, stop analyzing. He was so tired of it. Alec walked over, placed two hands on Liam’s shoulders.
Liam went stiff. Alec hesitated, his mouth millimeters from Liam’s. Briefly Alec touched lips before backing away. Still pale, Liam now sported a red flush on his cheeks, and he seemed poised to leap. Though in which direction, Alec hadn’t a clue.
Alec made a mental note: don’t pick up strangers . Not that this was a new idea. One day he would learn to be sensible. He’d lost the knack of it this past year. That evening his life had turned into a nightmare and the sense had been knocked right out of him.
“Uh, Liam. Why are you here?” Alec knew his tone implied Liam was an idiot, but he couldn’t keep his frustration under control.
“My mistake,” he replied with a slight sneer.
Great, this was going just great. “Is it?” Alec thought it was his mistake, though not his worst one to date.
Liam smiled, but there was no emotion behind it. A mask. “You’ll have to excuse me.” He reached for the door.
“Am I dismissed?” Alec asked, goaded by Liam’s behavior.
“As you wish.”
Alec would have laughed except the hand on the doorknob was shaking. The scene suddenly shifted focus. Something had unnerved Liam, although Alec didn’t see how it could be him when he was considered rather unprepossessing. As Alec clasped his own shaking hands behind his back, a terrible sensation of fellow feeling invaded Alec. He knew about fear. He felt it now and found he didn’t want Liam to leave despite of, or perhaps because of, all these mixed messages. Horror and terror were straightforward. This awkward attempt to connect made Alec long for something more.
“Hey,” he said softly. “What’s going on?”
As if aware his hand betrayed him, Liam looked down. He shook his head twice and slipped out the door.
Let him go. Ignoring his own warning, Alec followed. But the golden boy had disappeared so entirely that Alec couldn’t even hear him walking down the stairs. He wasn’t going to make matters worse by chasing after Liam. Retreating into his apartment, Alec shut the door and leaned against it.
Well, that was one way to lose the mood. Alec had gone to the festival to connect with humanity, not to feel even more alone. The now melancholy music found its way into his apartment and he thought of gold hair and gold eyes and a trembling hand.
Sinking into his chair, Alec pressed a palm to his heart, then fingered the rough scar through his T-shirt. Better this way , he told himself, though that reassurance felt hollow.
Chapter One
    “Mr. Alec?” The small voice wobbled. Each week, Ira’s first question required bravery and a fortifying deep breath. As if Alec often snarled at children to make them cry.
    “Yes, Ira?” Alec smiled encouragement, looking into the eight-year-old’s round brown eyes. So serious.
“Do bears dance for fun?”
“Probably not,” Alec admitted.
“I think they only