I scroll through Luna’s first, wincing when I realize I never texted her when we landed. I was a little… overwhelmed.
Her messages grow increasingly worried, with the last one being time-stamped ten minutes ago saying,I’m booking a flight.
I close my eyes and blow out a breath. Then I select her name and call. Because a responding text isn’t going to calm her down.
She answers on the second ring. “Are you okay?” she demands.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I tell her. “Things have, um, been a bit hectic.” That’s an understatement, but I don’t really know what I can share with her. Rule number one is practically roaring in my head.
And after witnessing Lazarus’s quiet fury before my shower, I’m not sure I’m ready to test the limits of his rules right now.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you when I landed,” I go on. “Honestly, I was exhausted and fell asleep on the plane. Then I had a late dinner and fell asleep with my phone on silent.”
Luna is quiet for a long moment. “I feel like you’re not telling me something, Lark.”
Because you know me too well, Luna,I want to reply. Instead, I opt for giving her part of the truth. “There’s a lot going on that I can’t talk about right now. But I promise you that I’m safe.” That word just kind of leaves my mouth, causing me to frown, as it didn’t feel like a lie.
Lazarus and his pack have made it pretty clear that they’re not going to hurt me. And so far, all their actions have proved that.
Johan’s, especially.
He could have easily taken advantage of me last night and didn’t. Except, he just purred for me while I slept.
Those aren’t the actions of an alpha who means me harm.
Noah also treated me kindly and even offered marriage—albeit as a joke, I think—but doesn’t strike me as all that cruel or ill-intentioned.
And Lazarus, well, he’s still a threat.
Except he was clearly angry before my shower and didn’t assert any power over me. All he did was chastise me for hurting his friend.
Which I probably deserved.
“You know I’ll come get you if you need me to, right?” Luna asks quietly, causing me to smile.
“Yeah, I know. But I’m okay. I promise.” And I mean it. I really am okay. For the moment, anyway.
“Then when will you be home?”
My lips twist to the side as I consider how to answer that. “I don’t know,” I say slowly. “I suspect I’m going to be here for a while.”
She’s quiet for a long moment. “But you’re really… okay?”
I laugh a little since I’ve already told her that. She’s just being a good friend, and I appreciate that more than she could ever know. “Yeah, I am. You’ll be the first to know if that changes.”
More silence. “I don’t believe you, Lark.” She speaks the words so low that I barely hear them through the phone. “You always try to handle everything on your own. But you don’t need to. Not anymore. We’ll all help you.”
“And I love all of you for that. I do. But I don’t need help. Actually, all I want right now is a cup of black coffee. So I’m going to go find one.” The phrase is purposeful.
A long time ago, shortly after escaping Gideon, we decided that if anything were to ever happen to one of us, I would tell her I’m enjoying a cup with creamer in it. And if she were in trouble, she would comment on her black coffee.
So saying that I want a normal cup—the way I’ve always enjoyed it—is my way of trying to subtly convey to her that I really am fine.
“I want a picture of that coffee,” she tells me. “In fact, I’d like to see you right now. I’m hanging up and video-chatting you.”
“Luna—”
The call ends, making me grumble.
