He sobers at the placement and the bittersweet look on my face. His voice is soft as he asks, “What is it?”
“It’s a lark, wren, and two finches sitting on a branch.” The artist did a wonderful job transforming my rough sketch intosomething that looks beautiful, classic, and reminds me of the people I love every time I look at it.
His face scrunches up in confusion. “I get the lark, but why the others?”
“The wren is for my sister, and the finches are for Charlie and Coop.” Coop’s finch is where he belongs next to Wren, and Charlie’s finch is tucked next to mine.
We’re our own little family. We might be broken and small, but we always have each other’s backs. And, for a while there, the four of us were truly happy.
Hal’s voice comes out thick when he says, “It sounds beautiful, wild girl.”
“What about you?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation to lighter topics. I need a reprieve from all the heavy I’ve been talking about with Hal before I break down again. “Have a favorite tattoo?”
Instead of just telling me, Hal pulls up his hoodie and undershirt to show me. I almost swallow my tongue at the expanse of inked skin and rippling muscle he’s showing off. My gaze slowly wanders up his black-and-gray tattoos, his washboard abs, and the gun hanging from a shoulder holster until it snags on his pierced nipples.
My eyes widen, and I jerk my gaze away, like I saw something I wasn’t supposed to. Heat rushes to my cheeks and pools in my core. I studiously try to ignore the arousal that’s lighting my blood on fire.
Abs, even ones as nice as Hal’s, shouldn’t have me this hot and bothered. Absolutely nothing good can come from feeling anything for him, much less jumping into bed with him. I’m not even going to start on the weapon he has casually tucked under his hoodie.
“This one is for Cam,” he rasps. “I didn’t get it for a long time after his death to make sure I knew exactly what I wanted.”
At Hal’s voice, I look back at him and focus on where he’s pointing at a small tattoo over his heart. There’s a green dragon protectively cradling a teenage boy in his wings. Clouds and stars are sprinkled around the scene, giving it a slightly hazy, dreamlike quality.
“It’s gorgeous, Hal,” I whisper past the lump in my throat. “Did your twin like dragons?”
Hal’s lips tip up in a bittersweet smile before he drops his undershirt and hoodie. “Something like that. What kinda shifter are you?”
My eyes briefly widen at his question, but I quickly smooth my features. “Anyone ever told you that you ask a lot of questions?”
I’m aware I’m dodging his question, but it’s not like I could tell him, even if I wanted to. Not when I don’t know myself. I’ve never met anyone like me before, and I’ve never told anyone what I can do.
I’ve watched enough movies to know exactly what happens to people who can do weird stuff like me. We end up in cages in a government or corporate lab, which I’d like to avoid, thank you very much.
He barks out a laugh. “Believe it or not, wild girl, but nope. I rarely give enough of a shit to ask anyone about themself.”
I roll my eyes, not believing him for a second that this isn’t a routine he uses on all the girls he picks up. “What makes me so special?”
The grin drops from Hal’s face briefly before he plasters it back on, although it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I dunno. There’s just something about you, Lark. Something about you that I can’t get out of my head. Something about you that makes me wanna know everything there is to know about you and spend as much time as I can with you.”
I wish I could say I don’t get what he means, but I can’t. Because I feel the exact same way about the five of them, and that scares the shit out of me.
CHAPTER 12
LARK
Getting smacked in the face by a branch for the tenth time, I huff at my creature. After all, it’s her fault I have to hike to the middle of this forest to be able to change. I can’t exactly have anyone see what I can turn into, so I need to be as far from civilization as possible.
She growls half-heartedly in my mind, too excited about getting to shift for the first time in a month to be annoyed. My creature hates that she doesn’t get out much, but even she understands why I can’t risk it.
Coming to a small clearing in the dense forest, I decide that I’m far enough away from the road to be able to shift. Blowing out a breath, I shrug off my backpack and place it carefully on the ground underneath a towering pine.
I then start taking off my riding gear and folding it carefully next to my bag. When I was trying to figure out where to shift, the place Rook showed me came to mind. I haven’t seen him in weeks, and I guess a part of me wanted to feel closer to him by coming here.
Once I’m stripped down to my underwear, I take those off too. Shifting shreds clothes, and I’d rather not have to buy new panties and bras every time I let my creature out.
Blowing out a breath, I close my eyes and give her control. I feel the change wash over me one moment, and the next I’m soaring. Blinking open my now neon-green eyes, I chance a look down at myself and mentally snort.
My creature is nothing if not cheeky. I’m in her favorite form—a black-crowned sparrow-lark. She thinks she’s hilarious, turning into a bird I share names with. But I also know how much she loves feeling the wind through her wings and flying through the slightly crisp early autumn air as fast as she can.
