I fold her fingers back over the food. “You need this more than me. I can hold out until we find some small game, maybe a deer, if we’re lucky. Our wolves can feast until they’re content.”
“It’s not your responsibility to take care of me.”
“I could say the same.”
“You’ve done more than enough. I need to contribute something.”
“Tell Damien everything you know about the WSSO. Their practices, research, locations. Anything you remember. That’ll improve our chance of rescuing the others. Maybe one day we’ll finally destroy the whole fucking organization.”
Her hands start shaking. I kick myself for reminding her of the horror she escaped.
“I’ve never been a mushroom fan, even on pizza,” I say, hoping mundane conversation will pull her back to the present.
“Me neither. But I learned quickly not to be picky in that crate. Ate whatever slop they gave me. To… to stay alive.”
When I grab a few berries and mushrooms and pop them into my mouth, a hint of a smile appears. “I’ll never complain about mushrooms again.”
“Yes you will,” she teases.
“Yeah, I probably will,” I admit. It’s rather shocking how easy she is to talk to, and how her confidence is growing around me even though we’ve only been on the run for three days.
She separates the berries and mushrooms, takes my hand in hers, and pours the berries into my cupped hand. “Don’t change who you are because of me, Garrett. The last thing I want is to be coddled. All I need is a little understanding and patience. I’m a bit messed up right now, and it might take me a while to… adjust to being with allies again.”
“Allies? Is that all we are? Shit, Angel, I thought I’d done enough to earn friend status.”
She laughs and quickly covers her mouth, until I ease her hand aside. “Don’t cover up that smile. It’s full of joy.”
“Only if you promise you won’t treat me like I’m going to break.”
“I’m not sure I can do that. Angels are fragile, aren’t they? I mean, one small snip to their wings and they plummet to Earth.”
“Good thing I’m no angel.”
I slide my hand along her jaw until I’m cupping her cheek. “You aremyangel, and I mean what I said before. I will take care of you until you’re healed and you figure out what you want to do long term.”
“I’m not sure who I am anymore.” Her voice trails off, sounding so incredibly lost. “I can never be the person I was before they massacred my pack. The shifter I was before I betrayed?—”
My hand covers her mouth. “You will never use that word again, or condemn yourself for something out of your control.”
As I stand there, my hand over her mouth, repeating words my alpha once spoke to me, I realize the hypocrisy of what I’m saying. I step away from her.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice pitching high.
“I’m the last person to tell you how to figure out who you are. I’ve done things, too. Someone I cared about got hurt because of me. My packmates keep telling me it wasn’t my fault because I wasn’t even there when Marla got killed. They don’t get it. I was the one training her. I was responsible for her.”
“Training her for what?”
“Infiltration. I’m a retrieval specialist.”
“That’s why you came for me.” She attempts a smile. “And here I thought we’d made a connection that first time we met.”
“I was doing my job. I don’t expect anything in return. Not even friendship.” I clear my throat. “But I wouldn’t turn it down.”
She reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together. “I need a friend right now, Garrett. One I can trust. I’m sorry for upsetting you.”
“Words only hold power if you let them.” I flash a smile, then turn away, planning to shift.
Her hand grips me, and I find her eyes. Blue pools so clear a shifter can get lost in them. Looking at her, her hand on mine… centers me somehow. It makes no sense, and yet it feels so fucking right.
