"I—I think so. I actually panicked when I thought I'd lost you— the you I guessed I knew."
He stroked her arm. "I understand. But I'm the same man, and you'll never lose me."
"So confide me everything I wish to know if I'm going to be your spouse. Wait, not just what I wish to know. Confide me everything."
He grabbed her hand and shook deliberately. "Falcons mate between March and May. It's not an option. We don't choose when it's right for procreation. It's an instinct."
Unsettled, Shirley tilted her head. "Are you explaining that come spring, we'll be boinking like bunnies?"
He chuckled. "Simply if you like to."
Then his mood grew severe furthermore.
"This is where being a shifter twists things. We not just possess physical impulses, we have mortal sentiments also. Falcons who can't mate when their bodies notify them to can generate destruction with the extraordinarily intensified human half."
