“Oh, Lark, if I could hug you right now, I would.”
“And I’d probably push you away,” I tell her.
“I know,” she says, her smile sad. “So I’d just hug you tighter.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, acknowledging that, despite the fact that I would absolutely try to squirm out of her arms, I really could use a hug right about now. “They’re mad at me for something I didn’t do.”
Okay, that’s not exactly accurate. Noah and Johan definitely said they didn’t “blame” me for betraying them. And Lazarus also mentioned that he was angry at my brother, not me.
So I rephrase by saying, “Madisn’t the right term. I can’t really elaborate. But let’s just say we’re having a misunderstanding.”
She considers that and nods. “Can you, uh, help them understand?”
“I tried that, and I think I made it worse.” I hacked into my brother’s communications to see if I could find proof of what he had done.
Instead, I found the kidnapping assignment, which was written in a bunch of cryptic commentary that I only understood because of growing up in this world.
So I sent that to Johan, hoping it would absolve me since I wasn’t part of the chat or even mentioned in it.
Except, I immediately realized that he would just assume I massaged the communications to remove myself from the evidence.
“Hmm, well, I can’t really help without much context. But, in my experience, logic prevails. So if you can present facts to them, that should clear up the ‘misunderstanding.’?”
“Ironically, that’s what I already tried to do,” I tell her, sighing. “The problem is, I’m someone who can alter the facts, if you grasp my meaning.”
She stares at me through the screen. “So they don’t trust you.”
I wince. It’s a direct assessment, but that’s Luna. She isn’t one to mince words. Not with me, anyway. “Basically, yeah.”
“Do you trust them?” It’s a quiet question, one she utters with a bit more gentleness than her frank statement from a few seconds ago.
I don’t immediately answer her, instead seriously considering her question. “This is going to sound kind of crazy,” I warn her, swallowing. “But yes, I do. I… I know they’re dangerous. I know they could easily hurt me. However, I don’t think they actually will.”
Lazarus scares me. Although, not in a traditional way.
“I’m terrified of what I’m feeling for them,” I confide to Luna, the statement one I’ve barely admitted to myself. “I’ve never wanted to be a mafia bride. I’ve seen what that did to my mother. But I don’t think they’re anything like my father’s pack.”
Actually, I’m certain they’re not.
“Maybe it’s the scent match, but I… I really like them, Luna. Which is insane. How can I feel this way after only knowing them for a week?” I clear my throat. “Or slightly less than one,” I quickly amend, aware that she’s likely thinking that already in her head.
“Scent matches are rare and powerful,” she says, her voice soft. “If you like them, then embrace it, Lark. Otherwise, you’re just fighting fate.”
“You believe in fate now?” I ask, incredulous.
“Pretty sure I never stopped,” she replies, her expression holding a touch of sadness to it that she instantly masks behind a smile. “My point is that time is irrelevant. Follow your instincts. They’ve never failed you before.”
She’s right.
My instincts are what drew me to her that night thirteen years ago. I knew something was wrong. Then we were taken, and while I was certain we could escape within days, my instincts forced us to remain.
That led us to saving the other Widows.
Founding Widows Peak.
With the money I stole from the Ferraros.
Which has landed me here… in Lazarus’s family estate.
