Chapter Ten

Rogue.

That term had always been used as a curse with Silver's people. It was a shameful thing to live outside of the Pride for lion shifters. It meant a lion wasn't good enough to be accepted into a Pride. It meant a lion didn't have control. It meant that lion was expendable, and less-than.

She'd heard stories of rogue lions before. One named Beast, in particular, had been used to scare her, but here was the thing. As she'd grown older, she'd learned that Beast, a former King, had settled into one of the Crews connected with Damon's Mountains, and he had paired up with a mate, and his life didn't seem so terrible to her anymore. He probably found there what she had found with the Fastlanders.

So, okay. Her life wouldn't be with this particular Pride. Perhaps there was a different destiny for her. Perhaps in the future, another lion Pride would pick her up, long after Rook had grown weary of hunting her. Or maybe someday she could even make her way back to Damon's Mountains. If she hid long enough and well enough, perhaps someday her Fate would bring her to a new home. She had to believe that, because what she was doing now was terrifying.

She deserved to be a rogue right now. She was a weak lion. How? She'd had a job to spy on a Crew, and within a day, she'd admitted to them all why she was there, shared much too much about herself, and fallen for one of the members, and was now changing her entire life back to one on the run, just so she didn't have to do what Rook had ordered her to do.

She really was a traitor.

Her phone rang again, and she stared at Rook's name on the caller ID until it stopped ringing. She didn't feel scared or nervous, like she thought she would. More like determined. She'd been free before and it had lasted months, and she'd learned lessons. She could do this. She could!

And in a way, she had Owen to thank for it. The news stations were still playing the footage from today, and she was watching it just for glimpses of Owen's boar. For some reason, seeing him be so strong and not backing down made her feel stronger too. She still had questions. His animal had disappeared as soon as she'd sank her claws into him, and he hadn't Changed back when Wreck had come throwing fire. Owen had dragged her down deeper into the water. He hadn't needed to do that, but he did. He'd carried her out of that river when he was hurt worse than her, and he'd kissed her in that bedroom deep enough that it healed parts of both of them.

He. Felt. Important.

Maybe in some other life they had been meant to cross paths. Or perhaps he was meant to show her that there was something bigger in the world than just her bubble within the Pride. Selfishly, she wished she could stay and spend more time with him, but she knew what she was. She was a grenade, and Rook held the pin. She couldn't be that to Damon's Mountains. She'd only made it to the outer edge of the Blue Dragon's territory, and for one day, but already she'd been touched by what Damon's Mountains were.

It was sanctuary.

Fuck the Pride for aiming at it.

Busy, she texted Rook back. Can't talk. With Fastlanders. Send.

Call me back right now.

"No thanks," she said easily, and set the phone down. No thanks. There was no shake in her tone. Just the border of a growl and a confidence she hadn't possessed in a while.

What Corey and Hallie had said sank deep inside of her, like a single flower seed in a tired, barren winter garden, and now she could feel it growing. She didn't have to do this with Rook.

Sitting here, outside of his control, she couldn't figure out how she'd become so scared of him and the Pride. Rook's manipulation had become so big in her mind, that disappointing him felt bigger than death. That was insane. He wasn't even a great leader. She wasn't attracted to him. In fact, when she really thought about it, she had never liked him. After he'd cut her face, she had grown a hatred for him, so why then was she here doing his bidding? His sheer force of will, strong King-bond to her lioness, and manipulative tendencies had muddied her mind, and now, outside of his reach, her mind felt clear again.

She couldn't go back to the murkiness, or numb herself down again. She couldn't go back to that cage for a cheap, imitation-gold crown that she would share with many other Queens eventually. That life would kill the good parts of her.

Rook called again, but she ignored it, and then opened up the beginnings of an email she'd been thinking about for the last two hours.

She'd tracked down Mason Croy's email address off of the registration website.

Silver looked around the cheap hotel room, searching for the right words to type out.

Dear Mason,

You probably don't know this, but there is someone in the territory who looks up to you. You have inspired him for years. It is on his behalf that I write this email to you. I wanted to issue a warning to yourself, as well as the Blue Dragon, whom you are close with, so I've heard. I couldn't find Mr. Daye's email address, so I'm hoping this message finds its way to you.

The Holland Pride has their attention on your people. I was sent to spy on the Fastlanders, but our King won't stop there. Rook, the King, has three Prides so far who have signed on as allies with the Holland Pride. I've seen a fraction of the power in your mountains, and I have faith that you would prevail against any attack with the Prides, but I also believe there would be loss of life.

I came here to betray the Fastlanders, but I find myself unable to share details of their life with my people. I don't want them to have any ammo against them. Owen changed my heart. He's the one who looks up to you, and so I know you don't owe me, a stranger, anything, but if you could get this warning to Damon Daye, I would appreciate it. I can't explain it, but Owen has to exist. I don't want war, and I don't want anything to happen to Owen or anyone he loves. Rook will target the Fastlanders first, because they harbor Ace, a shifter my Pride has focused vengeance on for years. Rook has only just recently been made aware of his whereabouts after he registered with the Fastlanders.

Owen will be at the mercy of that war, and I can't leave knowing I could've helped.

The world needs more people like Owen. He's a good one.

Can you please make sure your dragon is aware?

Sincerely,

Silver the New Rogue

She hesitated for a few moments before she hit send, and when it was out there in the internet-verse, she tossed her phone onto the bed and drew her knees up to her chest, watched the news again for a glimpse of Owen's boar.

It was impossible to explain or understand, but she already missed him deeply.

Made no sense because she didn't really know him that well…right?

A knock sounded at the door and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Heart pounding, Silver picked up her phone and checked the tracking app. Rook was still with the Pride. Unless he had ditched his phone there? Or done what she'd done and switched phones?

Another knock sounded.

Silver padded silently toward the door, and steeled herself with a steadying breath, pulled open the door a crack, and froze.

Owen stood with his back to her, wearing jeans, and a flannel with the collar flipped up. He wore a baseball cap, but she recognized his blond hair in the back.

"Owen?" she asked, in disbelief of what she was seeing.

He turned, and his eyes were such a bright blue, they almost looked white. His lips were pursed into a thin line, and he shoved his hands into his pockets as he dragged his gaze up and down her leggings-and-sports bra clad body. "You didn't respond to my text," he said.

Her lip trembled as she pushed the door open farther and closed the few feet of distance between them. She threw her arms around him.

Owen stood there stock-still for a five count before his body defrosted. Slowly, he removed his pinned arms from her embrace and slid his hands to her back, rested his cheek on top of her head.

"I thought it would make the goodbye harder if I continued the messaging," she admitted in a whisper. "I've read that text twenty times, at least."

"I've checked my phone for a message back so many times," he murmured gruffly, hugging her tightly, and she exhaled a relieved sigh.

She hugged him tighter too. She didn't have to be gentle with him—he was a bigger beast than she was.

"Fuck, Silver," he rumbled, pulling her up off her feet. "I came here trying to stay angry with you. I can't."

Like it was the most natural thing in the world, she wrapped her legs around him and rubbed her cheek against his, and then the other, in a sign of affection used by her people when they had overwhelming feelings. He allowed it, and even gripped the back of her hair gently as she moved to his other cheek and did it again.

"God, you're trouble, aren't you?" he asked.

"Trouble for everyone," she said with a thick laugh. "Trouble for myself mostly."

"Are you running?" he asked softly, easing her back with a gentle tug on the back of her hair.

She nodded, unable to force the words past her thickening vocal cords. Silver swallowed hard. "We call it going rogue. How did you find me?"

And then the smile she loved so much tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Corey."

She frowned, not understanding. "Corey wants you to kill me?"

He chuckled and set her down. "No, she said I need to bring you back or she would."

"Oh." Her frown deepened. "But…Corey hates me."

Owen shrugged. "Now I think you've been promoted to just a strong-dislike. It's progress."

She laughed and hung her head, then lifted her gaze back to his. "I don't know why but that just made me happy."

The smile faded from his lips and he drew his thumb down her scar. When Silver grabbed his wrist and rested her cheek deeper into his palm, she thought he understood what she didn't have the words to say.

He searched her eyes, and that soft smile was back. "You want to go on a date with me?" he asked.

The little flower that had started budding inside of her grew a little more. "Yes. When?"

He twitched his chin toward a restaurant across the street called Cowboy's Pizza Pies. "Now. I'm starving."

"Oh." She looked down at herself. "I can change real quick."

He peeled his flannel off his broad shoulders and put it around her. "You're perfect as is."

The thick gray and black flannel was warm and smelled like him, and was big and comfortable, and she snuggled deep into it. "Okay, I'll just grab my hotel key and purse. Do you want to come in?"

"Come in you? Yes. You look so fucking gorgeous right now. Don't invite me in right now or we won't be eating any time soon."

His words were such a turn on, and she stood there dumbly staring up at him for a few beats before she scrambled to him, lifted up on her toes and kissed him fast.

She lowered back down onto the heels of her feet. "I meant the kiss too, just so you know," she murmured, and then turned and scampered inside to grab her things in a rush.

She grabbed the hotel key off the table, and yanked her purse by the strap off the chair, closed the door behind her and did this little hop-skip to where he was standing. Owen had his hand out, and she slipped hers against his as he led her across the parking lot.

"Ground rules," she said.

"Okay, I'm ready."

"I think we should be completely open with each other. Are you here to manipulate me?" she asked.

"No." Truth.

"Are you here to spy on me?"

"Nope." Truth. "Are you here to manipulate or spy on me?" he asked.

"Absolutely not anymore."

He chuckled and pulled her to a stop on the curb beside the busy road. Nightfall had descended on the town of Cheyenne, and this stretch of road was bustling. It had begun to rain, and she pulled his flannel over her head to block it somewhat. Both sides of the street were lined with restaurants, shops, and bars.

"Have you been here before?" she asked as he led her across the street at a break in the traffic.

"Sure have. I've even eaten here before." Owen opened the door for her, waited for her to pass and told the hostess they needed a table for two in the back room.

The hostess led them up a few stairs and into a dimly lit back room that only housed a couple of other full tables. She sat them by the window, and now Silver understood why Owen had asked for a table here. The entire wall beside their table was made of windows, and they had the perfect view of a rushing river, and the pitter patter of rain against the window was calming.

"What made you drop your tracker in the back of Caden Fuller's truck," Owen asked after they had ordered a couple of sodas.

"Who?"

"One of the sons of the Cursed Bear. You researched here. You know Clinton Fuller."

"Oh, I had no idea that was one of his sons' trucks. I just saw a Laramie sticker in the back and I figured he was local and would keep the tracker in the general vicinity. I wanted to buy myself some time to figure out where I'm going to go."

"Smart," he murmured. "What's the plan?"

"Okay, so I have escaped the Pride before, but I made so many mistakes—"

"Like what?"

"—like I run my business online, but I didn't change anything about my company, and that was how Rook tracked me down. He pretended to be a customer and when he paid, he tracked the bank information."

"Wait, wait, wait," he said, leaning back in his chair. "What do you even do for work?"

"Oh! Get this, I started taking calligraphy lessons when I was a kid. I loved practicing with those old calligraphy pens, you know the ones you dip in ink? Well as I got older and technology advanced, I eventually moved to an iPad and got the right art programs, and now I pick up jobs for people who want a professional looking signature."

"You teach people how to sign their names?"

"Yeah, but in a professional setting. Here, let me show you." She pulled a pen from her purse and drew a careful signature onto a napkin. Sexynuts Owen.

He pulled it toward him and laughed. "Okay, this is actually really good."

She shrugged and grinned at the compliment. "I have a lot of years of experience. I make my clients and entire video teaching them how to do their custom signature, and put together sheets of practice signatures for them to trace until they get used to the movement."

"Okay, so Rook traced you through your bank last time."

"Yep. I already pulled all my cash out of my accounts, and I can set up a meeting soon to close the accounts completely so he can't track my movements or when I use a card connected to them, and then I will open new accounts with a new bank, and screen customers."

"Smart. Rook will still target your company though, or have someone else do it."

"Oh he absolutely will, which is why I set up a sister company secretly months ago."

"Bait and switch move." Owen nodded. "Impressive."

"I've been building my clients and marketing over there, but still running my other website. Rook has no idea I have the sister company. I was careful to keep it a secret."

"So you've known you were going to run again."

"Not really. I just wanted to feel not as…"

"Trapped?"

"Yeah. I felt stronger if I at least had a pathway out."

"Where did you live the last time you escaped?"

"Denver," she murmured. "I got a little studio apartment in the city, and travelled out to the woods to Change when I needed to. I was terrified and paranoid, but after a few months I felt…happiness. I even met a couple of friends who were nice and took me out for coffee sometimes."

"Rook threatened them. Scared them and they wanted nothing to do with contacting me again after he brought me back to the Pride. I miss them, but mostly I missed who I was around them. I don't blame them for getting scared off friendship with me," she admitted. "Rook can be terrifying. I always felt bad that they went through a threat like that because of me. They were really nice ladies."

"You can't blame yourself for that though. Rook being a controlling asshole is on him and him alone. You were just trying to move forward."

"I've noticed over time that Rook has to alienate me to maintain control. I didn't realize that was happening at first because it was this subtle thing, but he needed me separated from my mom and Jaren early on. And then my friends one by one until I had nothing left but him and the Pride."

The server came over as she finished that admission, and they ordered a huge pizza to share, as well as garlic knot bread with marinara dipping sauce and mozzarella sticks for an appetizer.

"You're life has been hard," Owen said as soon as she left, "but it doesn't always have to be like that."

She shrugged and took a long sip of her soda.

"You don't believe me?"

"I think some people are born for suffering, and some people are born for an easier life. I used to be angry that my life wasn't easier, but I couldn't do that forever. At some point, I had to accept it."

"But you didn't really accept it," Owen told her. "If you had, you would be headed back to Rook right now, or trying to manipulate your way back into the Fastlanders to finish the job for him. You're running toward a better life instead. Sink or swim, you are doing it, Silver. Do you realize how tough you are?" He leaned forward on his elbows and lowered his voice, blue eyes boring into hers. "Do you really understand what you are?"

Confused, she shook her head.

"I can feel how strong you are. I can feel it. You are resilient woman. A fighter."

"Fighters don't get sucked into cult Prides."

"I didn't say you aren't vulnerable. You're a shifter, Silver. There is good and bad and weak and strong in you. You make mistakes sometimes, and you triumph sometimes, and that's what life is about. It's not being perfect, or making every right decision, or going through your existence living a beige life where you do everything just right. It's up and down. It's a roller coaster. You're riding it. Fuck, I've known you for just a little while and I want to be climbing into the roller coaster seat beside you. You just have something in you that draws people to you, and unfortunately you attracted Rook. I can understand how an obsessive fuck like him doesn't want lose you, how he wants to use you. You're strong. Stronger than him."

"Oh, not me," she said, dipping her gaze to the candle that flickered by the parmesan shaker on the left side of the table. "His lion is a titan."

"I'm not talking about whose lion is bigger," Owen said. "I'm talking about whose heart is bigger. Rook will die without love, and with a shitbag legacy. He will be known for the pain he causes. But you? You'll live a different life."

"How do you know?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I just have this instinct. I just know."

Oh, his beautiful words.

"Where will you run to this time?" he asked.

"Not Colorado. Rook calls me a creature of habit, and he will look to Colorado first. I thought maybe Texas. Texas is a big place to get lost in. I'll switch out my phone, trash the one I have, cut off all access, and just…disappear."

The soft smile fell from Owen's lips and he angled his head. "Texas is nice." She didn't understand the seriousness that had tainted his tone, but before she had a chance to ask, the server brought the mozzarella sticks and garlic knots out for them.

"I emailed Mason," she said, changing the subject to something more interesting.

"What?" Owen drawled out, removing his baseball cap. He ran his hand through his messy blond hair and leaned back on the back legs of his chair. "What did you say?"

"I asked him to warn Damon about what Rook plans to do to the Fastlanders. I don't like that your Crew is on the outskirts of the Dragon's territory. I figured if he knew what to look for, he could be ready to help you faster when the time comes."

"We've been ready for a while," Owen said.

"What? How?"

"We have a couple of seers in the mountains. One of them even saw you coming. I knew who you were the second you came into Moosey's paying attention to Captain."

"Oh, so that's why you talked to me. That makes sense."

"That and you were hot."

Silver snorted. "No I'm not. I'm just me."

"Why did you attack me?" he asked suddenly. "Earlier in the river, why did your lion go after me?"

"Because you are the biggest danger. The animal is broken. She goes after the biggest and baddest. That was you."

Owen did this little fist pump. "I'm telling Captain you said that. I can't wait to see his dumb face."

"The dynamics of your Crew is interesting."

"You mispronounced disastrous. We've got an Alpha who barely cares about anything outside of his mate, and a mixed bag of nuts who want to fight each other all the time."

"Yeah, but between those lines you create these beautiful moments. When the friendship bonds present themselves, it's…you don't realize how lucky you are. It's not like that in the Pride. I've never seen it before."

He nodded thoughtfully as he chewed on a bite of garlic knot bread. "I guess it's different than the boars I grew up with too. I just don't think about it. The fighting eclipses the friendship part sometimes."

"I have a theory."

"Spill it."

"The fighting will settle in time, as you all get to know each other better, and as your animals begin to learn loyalty. Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure."

"If someone came after any member of your Crew, what would you do?"

"Maul them," he said without hesitation. Truth.

She smiled knowingly. "The fighting between the Crew doesn't eclipse the loyalty then." Her words touched him. She could tell. "You Fastlanders will be just fine. You've got it better than you think."

The pizza arrived and Owen started telling a story about an argument he'd had on his jobsite last week with one of the humans on his team, while Silver pulled two huge slices of pizza off the pan and put them onto a plate. Owen had showed her in several ways that he had a gentleman's manners, so she wasn't surprised that he waited for her to get her food before he even reached for a slice. "Where did you learn manners?" she asked, as she set the plate with the two slices in front of him and licked pepperoni grease off her thumb as she scanned the pizza to see which piece she wanted for herself. "I know it wasn't from the boars."

He belted a laugh and said, "I read a book about it."

"Owen the blue collar boy boar shifter reads books?" she teased as she picked the pizza slice with a bubble on the crust."

"Blue collar boy boar shifter. Say that ten times fast."

She tried and failed by time number three.

"You're a bubble crust type of girl, huh?" he observed, watching her peel the portion of the crust with it off, and eat it. "I'll remember that."

And she absolutely believed he would. She arched her eyebrow and plucked off an olive. And then another. She liked some olives, but not a lot.

Owen was watching her, and he looked so handsome in the flickering candle light. He grabbed a fork and began flicking the olives off another piece that had a slightly smaller bubble on the crust, and her heart was touched. She knew he was doing that for her.

"I have a library card and everything," he said, setting the new slice on her plate.

"I would've never called that," she murmured, taking a big bite.

Only now did Owen take the first bite of his food.

"What kind of books do you like to read. Other than books on manners, of course."

"I only got to chapter two of that book, it was boring," he admitted. "I like reading autobiographies of interesting people."

Surprised, she asked, "Seriously?"

"Yep. Do you read?"

"I used to when I was a teenager. I was into the bodice-ripper romances I found on my mom's bookshelf."

"Mmm, I bet that was educational."

"Very."

"Why did you stop reading them?"

She mulled over that question as she chewed. "I stopped reading them around the time I met Rook. My mom had brought me to the Holland Pride on their request. My lioness was good at fighting and I have a lineage that was interesting to them, and I met Rook and was promised to him, and then I don't know. I just didn't believe in romance anymore, and the books felt too fake. Half of the fun was imagining that could happen to me, and then suddenly the magic was sucked from them. I didn't like men very much for a while, and so I didn't like reading nice things about them, I guess."

"Rook is the worst."

"The total worst," she said with a giggle. She liked how he could make light of heavy memories. That was a talent. "Today was wild," she said.

"Yeah, you have a tan line." He pointed to the general vicinity of her breasts.

Silver looked down and sure enough, between the flaps of his flannel, right above her sports bra-line were the tops of her triangle bikini, and the thin strap lines.

"Parts of the river float were fun."

"Name your top three moments from today," he said, reaching for his third slice. Gads, he could eat fast.

"Number one," she began. "When you actually showed up at the river after I thought you were standing me up."

"Mmm, I really did think about standing you up."

"Gasp! What?"

"You were spying on my Crew, and I thought you were dangerously pretty, and too interesting for your own good."

"Dangerously pretty? Me?"

"Yep. What's number two."

"Number two. Insert poop joke here," she uttered before she could stop herself, and then her eyes flew wide as he belted out a laugh. "Number two," she started again, her cheeks heating that she was so comfortable with being silly around him. It had been a while since she'd seen that side of herself. "When you kissed me in the river."

"That's my number one," he murmured. "What's number three?"

"When you showed up at the hotel door."

He nodded, eyes on her. "Number one, kiss. Number two, insert poop joke here, when I watched you take on Corey and Hallie, and be honest with them about why you're here."

"Oooh. That one is surprising," she said.

Owen shrugged. "It would've been easier to just stay quiet the rest of the float and leave, and not have to be held accountable for anything. I learned you aren't an easy-way-out kind of woman. I like that about you."

"You say that as I'm running away from my problems."

"Running toward a life you deserve," he corrected her. "Not running from problems. If you were an easy-way-out woman, your lioness wouldn't go for the biggest fight. She would go for the fight she knew she could win."

"You don't think I could win against you?" she teased.

He leaned back, blond brows arched. "I don't know, you may be able to take me if my boar disappears any time you try to claw me."

"Why did he do that?"

"Because he didn't want to fight you." A frown took his handsome face as he stared at the candle for a few seconds. "He couldn't fight you is a better way of saying it."

Huh.

"Well, I apparently don't have that problem. I have no control of my animal. She would fight a dragon," Silver said with a roll of her eyes. "I can't believe I've survived this long."

"You've fought lions in your Pride?" he asked.

"Oh hell yeah. I got practice fighting with Jaren when I was a cub, and I graduated to the lionesses in the Holland Pride. They wouldn't quit picking at me, but eventually they learned to not poke at me. It's part of why I think Rook chose me to be a Queen. He liked owning the lioness who would fight anything. He liked controlling me. It made him feel powerful."

"Should've fought him," Owen told her.

"Oh gosh, I would probably lose that one. His lion is massive."

Owen stared at her thoughtfully. "Number three, the way you keep smiling tonight."

"Really?" she asked.

"Mmm hmm. You look pretty sitting here in my flannel, tan lines poking out of your top, hair all wavy around your face, eyes that soft brown that says your lioness is relaxed. You feel lighter, like you have no problems in the world, and you have nothing to hide, and you're just open, and good gah, Silver, your smile is something else. Number three is definitely here, right now." He pointed to her lips. "That smile is the one."

Cheeks on fire, she ducked her gaze, and squeezed her eyes closed to avoid the squeak of pleasure that threatened to bubble up her throat.

"Woman, don't hide it," Owen said. "Look at me."

When she did, he had his phone up and snapped a picture. Chewing on a bite, he poked some buttons on his phone and told her, "I sent it to you."

"I left my phone in the room. That thing is a pain."

He grinned and faced his phone toward her, showed her the picture he'd just snapped.

The lighting was dim, and the background slightly blurred, but she was clear and in focus. She wore a happy smile and she was looking at him, above the camera. Her eyes didn't have any shadows, and she didn't look haunted. Not even a little bit. Her outfit looked kind of cute, if baggy, and her hair was actually behaving somewhat. The candlelight reflected against her left cheek. Silver looked kind of okay. And happy. She liked seeing herself through his eyes.

"And that is now my lock screen," he told her, and then shoved his phone back into his pocket.

The need to touch him became overwhelming, and she slid her flipflop clad feet between his work boots, and put a small tension of her ankles around one of his. He squeezed her back, and a fluttering sensation consumed her stomach.

Oooh, she really liked him.

Here in this moment, it felt like nothing bad could touch her. It was just her and Owen—they were the only ones who existed. After the emotional up-and-down day, this was the perfect ending.

They weren't around the Fastlanders, or around the Holland Pride. She and Owen were just in neutral territory exploring each other, with no one looking over their shoulder, and it felt so good. Better than anything she could remember. It felt like freedom.

Owen wouldn't let her help pay for dinner, on account of him being the one who asked her out on the date, and afterward, she thought he would march her back across the street to the hotel, but instead he took her by the hand and led her down the sidewalk toward a strip of stores.

They window-shopped and chatted easily, and she thought it couldn't get any more perfect than tonight. The weather was warm, but the breeze created the perfect temperature, Owen seemed so happy to just be with her, exploring this part of Cheyenne. When they came up to a shop that sold western boots, he opened the door for her and waited for her to go inside. It smelled like rich leather, and she fingered the fabric of a spaghetti strap dress in a pretty burgundy color.

"You would look hot in that," Owen told her.

"Me?" she asked automatically.

"Try it on. You have to do the entire outfit though. Belt over the waist like on the manikin, and a hat and boots. Here," he said, pulling a second dress in white off the rack. "Try this one too."

"I'll never have anywhere to wear this stuff to," she pointed out.

"Just have fun," he told her, flipping through a rack of cut-off shorts with W's stitched onto the back pockets. Cute.

She had a stack of clothes by the time she made it to the dressing room, and a worker was excitedly helping her and Owen, who was picking out clothes for himself as well.

The dressing rooms were gender neutral, which was fun because they would count down and jump out of their rooms to show each other each outfit. And Owen liked posing with her in front of a full-length mirror. She had never laughed so much in her life!

He was goofy and quick-witted, and adventurous and fun.

He loved the burgundy dress on her, but even better, he liked a pair of the cut-off W shorts on her paired with a white eyelet, thin-strapped top, and a pair of tan boots with stitched humming birds on them. The boots even had a little heel so her legs looked longer in them. He put a tan hat on her head and stood back, clad in his thin white beer logo T-shirt, and new jeans, and boots.

From the way he dragged his gaze up and down her body, pausing at the hot spots, she could tell he really liked this outfit on her.

"I'm getting this for you," he rumbled.

"What? All of it? Owen, that's a lot of money." The boots alone were two hundred dollars. "I won't have anywhere to wear any of this to. No." She shook her head and looked at the outfit in the mirror again. "Thank you, but no. It's too much."

"When was the last time you felt this damn good in an outfit?" he asked.

She didn't want to answer.

"When?" he pushed.

"Never," she admitted low.

"Plus, me buying you this is a selfish thing. It's really for me."

"For you how?"

"Because it sets up the next question."

"What question?" she asked softly.

"Will you go on another date with me?"

Stunned, she whispered, "When?"

"Tomorrow night. It's the last night of the rodeo. I can still get us tickets. You'll have somewhere to wear this to."

She gripped the raw hem of the shorts and glanced at herself in the mirror again, hope filling her chest. Everything fit her like it was made for her. Could she allow him to do this? Spend this much money on her?

"On one condition."

"Name it," he said.

"I buy your outfit too, so it's fair."

The smile that took his masculine lips dredged up the flutters in her middle again. Handsome man. "Deal."

She couldn't keep the silly grin at bay as they paid out. The cashier said they were really cute together, and she didn't miss how much Owen touched the small of her back. Maybe boars were affectionate shifters, like the big cat shifters were. She loved it. His touch settled her, and the animal inside of her was practically purring under his attention.

With the declaration that she needed to break her boots in a little before tomorrow night, Silver asked the cashier if she could wear the clothes out.

"Girl, you look awesome," the cashier told her as she handed her a pair of scissors to cut the tags after she'd returned from the dressing room wearing all of her new stuff. "If y'all are looking for a fun place to go all dressed up, there's a cowboy bar two blocks over. Easily walkable. You'll get hit on, sure, but that one is a big ol' brute. He'll keep them boys at bay."

It did sound kind of fun. She looked up at Owen to ask, but he was already watching her face. He grinned and nodded. "We're going to a cowboy bar. What's it called?" he asked the cashier.

"Haulers," the cashier answered. "I'll be there right after work. I'm meeting my boyfriend, so maybe I'll see y'all there."

"Yes!" Silver said. "Thank you!"

They said their goodbyes and jogged across the street to drop her discarded clothes in the hotel room. Her phone sat on the bed, face down.

"Do you need to check it?" Owen asked, noticing her stare.

"Nope. It'll be a bunch of messages from Rook probably."

A low rumbling sound emanated from Owen, and the smile slipped off his face, transformed to something more terrifying for a moment before he assured her, "He won't hurt you. I won't let him." Truth. She was safe with Owen.

As she set the pile of her clothes down and handed him back his flannel, he admitted, "I saw his text messages earlier."

"I know," she said softly. "I'm sorry. You can read them all if you want."

A frown tugged at his blond brows. "What?"

She shrugged. "You can read our messages if it makes you feel better."

"That's your phone, Silver. You have a right to privacy."

"I know, but it doesn't bother me if you want to see the dynamic. I don't know why he was staying that stuff, like he missed me and he was proud of me. It sounds like Katrina, his new Queen in his phone. Not him. He just calls me names. He's never said that stuff before." She scrunched up her face. "It was weird."

Owen shifted his weight and canted his head. "Sure, I'll look." His somber tone stole some of the happiness she felt. She unlocked the phone and handed it to him, but he surprised her and opened up the text thread, opened Rook's information, looked at his phone number, and then handed her back the phone without going through their messages.

"Did you just memorize his number?" she asked.

Owen lifted his chin higher into the air, and the humor was back in his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about." His grin said he didn't care if he was busted in a lie.

She should be worried, right? She should worry over what Owen would start if he texted the King of the Holland Pride. But she'd seen his boar, and she knew how strong he was, and a part of her loved how protective he was toward her.

She made her way to him and looked up into his eyes, waiting.

He was slow and calculated as he pushed her cowgirl hat back off her head, and held it at his side. He leaned down slow and kissed her. This one, they both expected. This one was slow and built up. This one was arms sliding around each other, hands exploring, and tasting each other. This one was building a connection. This was was tethering her heart to him.

It was building hope inside of her.

It was happiness.

It was absolute comfort with another person.

It was a fire growing in her belly with every soft smack of his lips against hers.

It was his intoxicating masculine scent mixed with his cologne.

It was the warmth of skin under her fingertips, and memorizing the curves of his muscles, and of his scars.

When she slid her hands under his shirt and ran her fingertips up his abs, he eased out of the kiss. "Woman, keep going and we will not be leaving this room tonight."

"That's not a bad thing," she murmured.

"Here is the thing. I have pushed too fast too far with women, that's been my gig, but you're different."

She didn't like hearing about other women, but she did like his honesty.

"I'm trying to treat you right," he rumbled.

"Fine," she quipped, biting back a smile. "I don't even want to sleep with you anyways." She stomped her little boots toward the door and yelped as he picked her up front behind and spun her around.

"You little turd, I know you want to sleep with me. Your animal is practically begging me to cover you," he ground out, lowering her slowly as she giggled away. He tickled her ribs and she wiggled and laughed harder.

He gripped her hair at the nape of her neck and eased her into the bathroom, and pushed her downward until she locked her arms against the sink.

"Needy little thing," he growled from behind her, seriousness filling his tone.

The hungry look in his eyes softened the giggles in her throat, and she felt bold and wicked. She locked her legs and pushed up on her tiptoes, swayed her ass at him temptingly.

He leaned back and gripped her hips, stared down at the movement there, then pushed his pelvis against her, ground once and she could feel him so easily. Big man.

He blinked slow and lifted those bright blue eyes to hers in the mirror. Slowly, he pressed his chest against the length of her back and slid his hand from her hips to the button of her jean shorts.

A devilish smile she didn't even recognize took her lips and she leaned her head back, held him with her gaze as he unfastened her shorts. She thought he would push them down her thighs, but he didn't. Instead, he slid his hand down the front of her panties tantalizingly slowly. His fingertips brushed her sex and he rubbed her there, taking his sweet time. Ooooh. She rolled her eyes closed and arched her back more.

Owen wrapped his other arm around her middle and rolled his hips against her again, and she reached back and gripped his thigh. A shuddering sigh escaped him, and he rolled against her again.

"Will he do it," she asked softly.

"Will he do what?" he asked in a voice that was too gritty to be human.

"Will he go too far with the traitor? No turning back if he does."

The wickedness of his smile as he slid his finger into her nearly brought her to her knees. She groaned and pushed back into him just to feel his stone hard erection against her ass through their clothes.

She wanted more of him, but this tease was so delicious.

"So wet," he rumbled against her ear, then bit it gently as he pressed his finger into her again. On the third stroke, he added a second finger, and she groaned as he hit her just right.

"Beg me," he whispered.

"I don't beg."

"Mmm," he moaned. "I like a challenge." He pulled her back against him with the pressure of his fingers stroking into her, and she could feel him so well, it turned her on even more. God, she'd never wanted anything more than him.

She arched her back for him again, rolling her hips backward. He stroked into her deeper and she uttered his name brokenly.

"Oh, you're close, aren't you?" his soft voice echoed against her ear. "You gonna come for me, Silver? I need it. Tell me when you're close."

"Deeper?" she gasped out.

He responded immediately.

"Right there!"

"Come on Silver. Give it to me."

"Owen!"

His teeth clamped onto the side of her neck and he bucked against her as she came, gripping his fingers so hard.

"I need you," she pleaded.

"Fuck!" he growled, and unfastened his jeans with his free hand, shoved them down and then pulled his fingers out of her, pushed her shorts and panties to her knees and she could see it. She could see the exact moment in the reflection of the mirror when his long, thick shaft slid into her. It was a moment of shock at the girth, and he stayed still in her, stayed deep, pulsing his hips, pushing her forward gently as he drew out the remnants of her orgasm.

His eyes were tightly closed and the intense look on his face was so damn sexy. He liked being inside of her, and she felt powerful.

When he opened his eyes, they were trained on her in the mirror, and he eased back just enough to unzip her top in the back and slide it over her head. With the snap of his fingers, he unfastened her bra and she let it slide off her arms and onto the counter.

She should've been self-conscious, right? Being so exposed and vulnerable in front of him? She wasn't though. It was impossible to feel that way when he so obviously enjoyed the sight of her bare skin.

He reached around her and cupped her breast in one hand, wrapped his other arm around her waist and eased back, then back into her, gliding easily in the wet arousal he'd created in her.

"Oh my gosh, Owen," she whispered helplessly as the pressure built inside of her middle again.

This was so sexy, watching him work her body like this. Watching his big, slick shaft pushing into her deep, then easing back by inches. Watching his strong arms gripping her so tightly against his chest. Watching the need in his eyes.

Need for her.

He stroked into her harder, and built the inferno in her belly. Built the friction. She was going to come again. "Please!" she cried.

Owen dragged her suddenly to the floor, and on hands and knees, she rocked forward with his deep stroke. Her breasts bobbed with each buck, and she was already there. She was already there!

He made the sexiest sound against her ear and then as her body shattered for a second time, he came in her, his body pulsing with release. Warmth jetted into her, and she closed her eyes to the world as her body felt better than she'd ever experienced before.

He didn't rush her. Instead, he moved inside of her slower, deeper, pulling out every pulse of pleasure from her body, and when she hung her head, exhausted and sated, he eased out of her and settled her onto the bathroom floor. She couldn't do anything else. She had to lay here, body trembling with ecstasy after what had just been done to it.

Owen locked his arms on the counter and stood over her, breath flexing his abs. His eyes were closed, his hair mussed, every line of his body powerful.

"Fuck," he whispered as he opened his eyes to look at her. A slow smile stretched his lips as he took her in. "I need a picture of you just like this."

She let off a soft laugh, unable to even imagine what she looked like right now. "You can take one."

Owen pushed off the counter and left the room, returned with his phone, and took a picture of her, then ran the water.

She moved to get up, but he shook his head. "Wait there."

He placed a dry towel under her head and ran a washrag under warm water, and to her absolute shock, he knelt beside her, and cleaned her.

A man cleaned her.

Owen washed her thighs of his release, and then pressed the warm rag to her sex, and oooh, it felt so perfect after everything.

"Thank you," she whispered.

His smile was soft, and slowly, he leaned forward, and traced her traitor mark.

And then he drew his finger to his own cheek, and traced one down his face.

And oh, she understood. She'd asked him how far he would go with the traitor, and he was owning it.

Once upon a time, she had betrayed her people.

By being with her, in a way, Owen was choosing to betray his too.