3. Astrid

3

ASTRID

D id Dean just growl at me?

I stared after him, unbelieving how rude his reaction to the sight of me was. My raven ruffled her feathers, feeling more disturbed by the hostility he'd shown us than I did.

Aggression toward Xander I understood—after all, Xander had been Lucius's second-in-command and everyone seemed to loathe him for it—but me? All I wanted was to give him his freaking coffee.

Clearly, the man was unhinged.

My lips pressed into a thin line while I stared after him. He didn't turn back once, which meant he never noticed the coffee. My gaze shifted to Xander.

"What was that about?" I asked.

Better yet—where had Xander even come from? I hadn't noticed him inside the coffee shop, but the place had been busy. Obviously, I mean, I hadn't even noticed Dean standing next to me while waiting for his coffee.

"He needs to watch himself," Xander seethed, anger radiating off him as he stared at Dean's retreating form.

"He does seem to have anger issues." I took a sip of my coffee, feeling like the same could be said about me, though.

Shoot, maybe even all of us.

Look at how Xander was behaving right now.

"He doesn't have anything to be angry about," Xander ground out. "He's nothing more than a traitor."

"Traitor?" I asked, not understanding why he thought Dean was a traitor.

"Exactly what I said," he spat.

Concern for him powered through me. "Are you okay?"

He turned to face me fully, locking his icy gaze on me. "I'm fine, but I fucking loathe him." He jabbed his finger in Dean's direction.

I blinked. While it was true that Xander hadn't always been the calmest person, something was off about him. I'd never seen him detest someone so venomously before.

"I'm not a huge fan of his either," I said, hoping my agreement with him eased his hatred.

It didn't.

Instead, it seemed to intensify it.

"You don't get it," he ground out, his heated gaze never leaving mine. "He's a traitor, Astrid. He constantly fought against Lucius, constantly tried to get him out of his head. He couldn't see the big picture of what Lucius was trying to do."

"And what was that?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

To me, Lucius had been trying to kill an innocent woman and a group of panther shifters who stood at her side all because she'd blocked his ability to manipulate the minds of shifters for a while. Lucius had thought he was a king, and it was clear now how much my brother had worshipped him.

Xander narrowed his eyes like he couldn't believe I even needed to ask. "He was powerful. After all that shit with the Ashen Tribe was done, Lucius would have shown this town who we were. We wouldn't be hiding in the shadows any longer. We'd be free." He shook his head, anger getting the best of him again. "But Dean—all of them—let the Ashen Tribe take Lucius out."

"No one let the Ashen Tribe take him out; that's just what happened," I said, gratitude for what they'd done spiraling through me.

"How can you not see it?" Xander demanded. "They ruined everything for us all. They were traitors, Astrid. Traitors."

"None of them pled any allegiance to Lucius," I reminded him. "He forced them to be on his side."

Just like he'd forced me.

Xander shook his head, his irritation with me evident. Then he took the coffee that had been Dean's from my hand and stormed off in the opposite direction.

What the hell had that been about? How could he possibly think Dean—or any of us who'd been used as one of Lucius's pawns—was a traitor?

I stared after him, watching as he disappeared around the corner. The feeling that something about him was off worked its way through me again. I couldn't pinpoint what had me thinking it, but Xander wasn't himself.

Frowning, I started toward my car. I drove home in silence, thinking about Xander's crazy accusation and erratic behavior. It didn't make sense. However, neither had Dean's reaction to me either.

What was everyone's problem?

Stepping inside my apartment, I set my things on the kitchen counter. I pulled my laptop out of my bag and grabbed my coffee, then made my way into the living room to sit on the sofa and get some work done.

Once I was settled, I took a sip of my lukewarm coffee and opened my laptop to see the blinking cursor of death staring at me again. A frown pulled at my lips. I wasn't any closer to busting through my writer's block than I had been before leaving earlier.

The scene from the coffee shop with Dean replayed in my head. It was quickly followed by the whole scene on the sidewalk with Xander.

None of us appeared to be doing well in the aftermath of surviving Lucius' mind control.

Dean was hot-headed and aggressive. Xander had grown cold and just as hot-headed and aggressive. Then there was me—dealing with insomnia, a tad more anxiety than usual, and writer's block from hell.

Was everyone who'd been Lucius' pawn doing as awful as we were?

This thought gnawed at me.

While I couldn't help everyone, I could at least attempt to help myself and Xander. My raven pecked at me, but I forced her away as my laptop dinged with a new email.

It was from the woman who'd hired me to ghostwrite for her. The subject line read: Touching Base—Is all good?

Crap.

I set my coffee down. She probably thought I was flaking on her. I knew I should have reached out earlier this week to let her know where I was with the book. There hadn't been much to say, though.

I was stuck. End of story.

Clicking reply on her email, I wrote a message that I hoped came across as confident I'd be able to hit the deadline still, and then I got to work.

Writer's block be damned, this book would be written.