Chapter One

Jasmine

"Since when did people start throwing birdseed?" Michelle's mom nudged me with her elbow. "What's wrong with rice?" She had clung to me for most of the reception. She was the mother of the bride, her ex-husband constantly on the dance floor showing off his own new bride of two weeks. A bride half his former wife's age and twice as blonde. Glenda touched her tissue to the corners of her eyes as the bride, one of my close friends, climbed into the limo with her husband to be whisked away on their honeymoon.

"There was a myth that birds couldn't digest uncooked rice. It was confirmed later that they could, in fact, digest it, but birdseed is easier for the venue owners to clean up as well."

To be honest, I never understood any of the traditions. Throwing rice. Releasing birds.

I did understand the money dance, however.

"Oh. Okay." Glenda turned around and went back inside. Some people had already left but the friends who had stayed, well, we intended to put the DJ and the rest of the alcohol to good use.

The real party was still waiting inside.

We danced until midnight and then gathered around a small table. A few couples lingered on the dance floor as the DJ ran out of fast songs and was only playing slow ones now.

I loved to slow dance, but the single men had gone for the night. They often left wedding receptions early. I should know. I had been a bridesmaid six times in the last two years.

Tonight, the last of my close friends was married, but I put the idea of forever being single out of my mind. The margaritas didn't hurt either in that respect.

The centerpieces were gone.

The food was long ago discarded.

My red bridesmaid dress that I would be donating to charity—it was not, as the shop lady claimed, something I'd wear again—was plastered to my sweaty skin from dancing all night.

My heels were…somewhere.

"Jaz, it's your turn," Anya said, giggling with a plastic champagne glass in her hand. She pouted toward her mate, Sam, and he shook his head. She'd been cut off for the night.

"My turn to call an Uber, get out of here with a chunk of wedding cake in my hands? I agree."

Beth kicked me under the table. "You know that's not what she's talking about, Jasmine. We just want to see you happy."

I groaned and threw my head back. "Not this again. It's slim pickings around here. We all know that. Some people simply aren't meant to get married or mated. I'd love a hot wolf shifter, but I don't see one around declaring that I'm his fated mate or anything. Can't we have one wedding or mating ceremony without it ending with the Jasmine-has-no-husband discussion?"

Anya put her elbows on the table and rested her face in her hands, looking at me. She was beyond tipsy, so I knew it was more to keep herself awake than an attempt to be serious. "We love you, Jasmine. We just want you to be happy."

"Who says I'm not happy? I need a man to make me happy? I have three best friends. I have a great job. I have this killer dress, and I have a full life. Sounds fucking happy to me."

Okay, even I wasn't buying my own spiel. I craved the love and commitment the others had. Beth was a shifter, and Anya wasn't, but they were both mated to shifters. Michelle had mated her bear shifter earlier.

There was something about the vow of a shifter that I wanted in my life.

The total commitment. It was rare and highly forbidden for a shifter to cheat. I had never been cheated on myself, but the fear of it loomed whenever I dated someone.

My father had cheated on my mother and, while the biggest wound of that betrayal belonged to her, it rippled into my life and my choices.

I never wanted to have my heart broken the way hers was.

My dad didn't even stay with the woman. As soon as he divorced my mom, she left him.

Neither of my parents had married since.

Beth took my hand in hers. "There aren't many choices around here. That's why we got on the Mail-Order Matings app. You know this. What would it hurt if you tried?"

Both Beth and Anya's mates got up to help put away tables, giving us a bit of privacy.

We had this discussion after every ceremony. I was about as sick of it as Anya would be tomorrow morning.

"I could get on there and have no matches?" I said, revealing the real reason I hadn't followed their lead and downloaded the app. Sure, it seemed like a good way to meet a mate, especially since my best friends were loved and content with the mates they found there, but there was also something awkward about it.

Plus, I didn't want to get hurt.

And the fear of getting my heart broken was the deciding factor in all my dating and relationships thus far.

"Oh, come on. Give me a break. You are gorgeous, and you know it."

"There's more to it than that, Beth. You can't truly know someone through an app and I'm not a shifter, so I can't just run up and smell them. I…even people who are in a relationship don't ever really know each other."

"That's not true," Anya said. "Besides, that's what the getting-to-know-you period is for. Most matches on the app take ninety days to get to know each other."

"I dare you," Beth said, squaring her shoulders. "Sign up for the app. Look around, and I bet you will have some matches."

I didn't take her seriously because she was a little drunk. Her cheeks were even flushed.

"Yeah. Okay. I'll do that."

"Yes!" Anya said, standing and then almost falling. "All the things. Apps. Mates. Bets. Monies."

Gods alive, she was more drunk than I thought.

They would never remember this bet or dare—whatever the hell it was.