She shrugs, tanned skin darkening with her blush. “Not everyone looks like their outward appearances.”
Silence settles between us, but it’s comfortable, despite only recently meeting her. Minutes pass before she muses, “Alpha’s cabin. Ryder doesn’t share his space. Surprised he didn’t tie you to a tree or something.”
“Me too.”
“Slept in a chair or the floor?”
Her prodding sends warning signals. WhoisLeah? If she’s his girlfriend, or whatever shifters have, is she wondering for other reasons? If she’s interested in Ryder, is she seeing me as a threat? It seems laughable because being a captive witch doesn’t exactly shout sexy times.
Not knowing which way to take the conversation, I go with the truth and can only hope that if she plans on making me breakfast after this, someone will intercept. I have to believeafter seeing Alaric’s issue, Ryder will be pissed if I’m murdered by his packmate.
“No, uh…his bed-thing. It’s round-ish and?—”
She coughs. “He didwhat?”
Leah doesn’t seem pissed, just shocked as she breathes through whatever lung problems this conversation afflicts her with. “I would have loved to see his face when you climbed in it.”
Her confidence that I’m that brave astounds me. “No, I fell asleep on one of his chairs. He moved me there himself.”
Her mouth falls open. “That’s…wow. So, what you’re calling a ‘bed-thing’ is?—”
When a shadow suddenly falls over us, Leah jerks herself upright and into silence. Given the size of the intruder’s shape, it only takes one guess to determine who’s approached.
Leah dips her head in greeting before twisting her face away, dark blonde hair falling to cover her face. Before it’s hidden from view, I catch her smirk.
Thirteen
RYDER
Marissa is proppingDad up and lifting a cup of water to his mouth when I enter. His greeting is a faded smile and deep exhale, but it’s more than I’ve gotten in an entire day, so I accept it by not revealing how his new frailness has me wanting to rip the cabin apart.
Amos stands against the far wall and Xander closest to the door, which I close, trying to figure out exactly where to start and feeling a million years older as I consider it.
“Where’s Carina? I’d like to thank her for what she did.” Despite the water, Dad’s voice scrapes from lack of use.
Amos grunts his displeasure, and my irritation flickers at his attitude.
“You’re looking a bit better.” His skin isn’t as pale. His eyes, while still sunken and exhausted, are a fraction closer to familiarity.
“Ifeelbetter. Hopefully you’re treating her well. She didn’t have to help.” He scans the room to imprint those words on each one of us, but spends the longest on Amos. Even exhausted, Dad’s natural peace-keeping abilities from decades as Alpha emerges.
“We’re getting along,” I manage, trying to not recall the sight of her in my space, nor everything Marissa told me last night. Marissa, who’s watching carefully.
“Has she mentioned anything useful?” Amos looks up, an edge to his tone.
“She claims the witches are likely from a coven called Twilight Grove, and that the kind of magick they used is called black magick. Apparently, they’re after a few specific witches and used us to get to her.” I recount everything Carina said about the impending Celestial war, the covens, Darkness, the witch-vampire named Harlow, and her desire to return home to inform Morgan.
“She’s lying to save her own skin,” Amos immediately counters, barely waiting until the final syllable has dropped from my mouth before he’s imposing power he only dreams of claiming for himself.
Marissa frowns. “I think we should listen to her. That’s too many details to make up.”
“I don’t disagree,” Xander muses, shoving off the wall. “The witches from the other night had somethingoffabout them. Hearing Carina’s explanation, it was probably Darkness. If she visits her mother, it’s possible Morgan could help.” He directs the last part to Dad. “I vote it’s worth the shot.”
Amos’ scoff barely allows Xander to finish. “Or Morgan will be vengeful because we stole her daughter.”
I hate his assumption, but he’s also not wrong. Carina thinks of her mother as being loving and caring. I, for the well-being of everyone here, need to consider reality: That Morgan hates us.
Dad shuts him down with a scathing look. “Morgan isn’t like that. She’ll be reasonable. Son, you’re the only one here who spoke to Carina. Do you think she’s telling the truth?”
