Chapter Three

What was she allowed to do?

Silver sat gingerly onto the couch and scanned the small den of the cabin she'd rented. It was so quiet here compared to the constant chaos and yelling of her Pride home. She heard the pitter-patter of miniature feet and turned her head to see if she could see the mouse. It must've been in the wall because her sensitive eye-sight caught no movement.

The ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner was deafening in the quiet. Silver wrung her hands. She had walked around the cabin, making sure the windows were locked, noting all the exits. Earlier, she'd gone grocery shopping, and all of her food was put away neatly into the pantry and the refrigerator.

She looked over at a bottle of red wine she'd bought for herself. She hadn't known why she'd bought it. She didn't even like wine, but one time while she was free, she'd had a glass of wine with a friend and it had been…nice. Peaceful. Lately she craved those moments of peace, and perhaps this was it.

The fireplace was a wood-burning one, so she made her way to it and shoved a few pieces of newspaper under the pre-made triangle of wood stacked in there. She lit it and waited for it to catch before she made her way to the kitchen. She'd bought one of those cheap twist cap wines and opened it easily. Her friend had told her sometimes she would need to let wine breathe, whatever that meant. Silver had watched her, and she'd opened a bottle and let it sit there for a couple minutes before she poured it, so that's what Silver did now.

While she waited, she pulled a glass from the cupboard, and stared at the clock for three minutes, and then poured the glass half-full.

She sipped it, and truthfully it wasn't horrible. She preferred a nice dark soft-drink, but this was sort of nice, being alone and sinking into that peaceful moment she'd longed for.

Her phone lit up and she squeezed her eyes tightly closed. Of course Rook would sense her happiness and ruin it.

If she didn't respond to him right away though, she would see that icon moving toward her in the tracking application though, and that was the fear right now. She wanted him to stay where he was, and give her space. It was likely the last time she would ever have space again.

She'd sprung for the nice cabin in case she invited Captain over here. Rook had encouraged the purchase after he'd told her, "Men don't like fucking poor bitches." She was pretty sure that wasn't true. Men fucked whatever.

She inhaled deep and opened her eyes, carried her glass of red over to the table where her phone sat, and she poked the screen to wake it up.

She'd expected Rook's name to come up, but it was an unknown number instead.

Hello, mystery girl.

Her heart thumped harder against her breast bone, and she rushed to sit on the couch and set down her glass. She pulled the phone up and typed out, Who is this? Send.

It would be Captain. She knew it. She'd given him her number. Her plan was working.

A little ping of something dark touched her stomach. She wished it was Owen. He'd been genuine when he'd warned her against Captain. He cared about himself too much to treat a woman well. There had been truth in Owen's tone. And sure, she wasn't here for a long-term relationship or anything. She would likely watch Captain die at some point. But she'd appreciated Owen giving her the warning, like she was the type of woman who deserved to be treated well.

It had meant something to her.

Get any more autographs today, or is mine still the only one in your book?

Oh, now her heart was racing! She sat up straighter. Owen? Send.

The one and only. Disappointed?

No! Send. Not at all. How did you get my number? Send.

Memorized it when you gave it to Captain Asshole.

She laughed at the nickname, and the sound of it startled her. Silver hadn't heard that noise from herself in a while. Her hands trembled as she typed. How is your night going? Send. It felt easier to text than to talk to him in person.

Rough. Got in a fight with a couple of my Crew. A picture came through of a bloody towel on a bathroom floor.

Oh my gosh! Why? Are you okay? Send.

We always fight. It's no big deal.

And she got that. Prides fought a lot too, and especially the males. Ranks changed constantly.

How is your night? He asked.

Fine. Delete, delete, delete. She lifted her phone and took a picture of the glass of wine with the fireplace in the background. Send.

Looks peaceful.

A smile took her lips and she took a sip of her wine and relaxed back into the deep couch cushions. Peaceful. Yeah. I used to pray for moments like these. Her finger hovered over the send button. That was allowing him to see something too deep, but this felt safe. This was the job, right? Kind of? Let him see parts of her and gain his trust, so he would share too? Send.

Me too. Hell, I would still be praying for it but I'm in a new Crew. It'll never happen now.

I'm guessing you're from a big family? Send.

Fourteen siblings. My parents bred like hogs.

She smiled again. She knew he was a boar shifter. They were notorious for huge families and family groups. They were also known for being absolute monsters, but Owen seemed okay.

Small family here. One brother, both of us were brought up by a single mom. I loved it. Send. Geez, she was just spilling her entire life. She was okay with sharing some, but needed to be more careful.

Where did you get the scar on your cheek?

The smile faded from her face, and she put the phone down in a rush. She stared at it, heart thumping away in her chest. She took another sip of her wine, and another. She stood and turned her back to the phone like it would make the flashback go away. She'd been held down, and the blade had been searing hot. It was as much a burn as a scar. Rook told her she'd been very lucky that it had healed so well. Very lucky. Lucky.

His voice echoed over and over until it faded to nothing in her mind.

The phone vibrated again behind her. Silver crossed her arms and swirled the deep red liquid around in the glass, thinking of how to answer.

Half of her wanted to turn off her phone. Avoid his questions altogether. But half of her wanted to tell him. Those pieces of her would have to compromise.

She would tell him the fragment of her story she could part with.

Silver made her way back to the couch and sat down, sipped her wine again and then picked up the phone.

Owen had texted again. You don't have to tell me.

She steeled herself and typed it out, just to test if she had the nerve to send something so mortifying. I messed up, and someone I thought loved me made sure I would never mess up again. She took another sip and closed her eyes. If her thumb landed right on the send button, it was meant to be. She settled the pad of her thumb on the cold screen.

Send.

He didn't respond for a minute. Two minutes. There was still silence at three minutes, and there it was. She'd exposed too much.

If he only knew she was a lion shifter, and what her rank was in the Pride, he would feel justified in never speaking to her again. She was at the bottom. She'd been a Queen once, and now she was at the very bottom, under the lowest ranking cubs.

Tears of shame stung her eyes, and she nodded as minute five ticked by.

She made her way into the kitchen and brought her phone and wine with her, and then pulled out a box of cheese crackers from the pantry, snacked on them as she made a grilled cheese sandwich the way her mother used to make for her and Jaren, her brother. Sometimes she wished she could go back to being a cub. Life was simpler back then.

Her phone vibrated, and at first, she thought she was imagining it. She flipped her sandwich in the buttered pan and poked the screen to wake it up.

Owen had texted. That's heavy. Is it a traitor mark?

Fuck.

Humans didn't do traitor marks. If she said yes, he would know she was a shifter.

He was digging too deep too fast.

She countered. Why did you fight with your Crew tonight? Send.

The answer was almost immediate. Because they feel I don't have their best interest in mind.

Do you? Send.

Fuck no. I think about burning this place to the ground ten times a day. It's how I'm built. I'm a back-and-forth man. Is it a traitor mark?

Well, he'd just been brutally honest.

She sipped her wine and considered showing her hand too soon. That's what it would be. Rook had told her to hide what she was until she came back to the Pride.

But…

Rook wasn't here, in this peaceful moment she was sharing with only Owen.

Yes. Send.

Nice. Your people probably suck. That's a cool-ass scar. Looks hot on you.

Her eyebrow arched so high in shock, she probably had nine forehead wrinkles right now. Are you being serious? Send.

Super hot. A picture came through and she poked it to enlarge it. It was a full-length mirror selfie in a dark colored bedroom. Owen stood in the mirror wearing black sweatpants that hung low on his muscled hips. His six pack was perfectly uniform. It was also gashed with scars, and there were new cuts across his shoulder and bicep, and a single trickle of blood that had traveled down his arm. He had one hand holding the camera and one hand in his pocket, and his chin was tilted up. His eyes were bright blue. Sometimes I hate it here.

Then why do you stay? she asked him. Send.

Because it was the dream.

Oh, she liked talking to him. She really liked talking to him. He was interesting and different than anyone she'd ever met in the Pride. It didn't make any sense because she barely knew him, but that look in his eyes. Anger and spite and frustration and what-the-hell-am-I-doing-here, and she recognized that down to a cellular level.

It was this out-of-the-blue reminder that she wasn't the only one with problems, and because she'd been shunned and isolated for so long, she'd forgotten that. She'd just been in her own head. Did she wish bad on him? Absolutely not, but did it somehow make her feel better that other people existed who went through complicated situations? Yep.

Talking to him was such a breath of fresh air.

Would you like to help me pick a bathing suit for tomorrow? Send.

Absolutely.

Would he know if she saved his picture? He looked sexy and strong and badass with all the scars. Wait, Rook would somehow find out. She was technically single until she was forgiven by the Pride, and reinstated as one of the Queens, but Rook wouldn't see it like that. He owned her in his mind.

She didn't save the picture, and instead made her way to the bedroom and rifled through her suitcase and set out both bathing suits she'd brought. One was a forest green one-piece with a little hole cut-out between her breasts. The other was a leopard print bikini with red trim and little tassels at the sides of her bottoms.

She took a picture of them on her bed. When she sent the picture, she half-expected him to text her to try them on and take pictures of herself, like men did, but he didn't. He just said, Bikini for tomorrow. Do you have a hat? I can bring you one if you want. It gets hot on the river at midday.

I just have sunglasses. Send.

I'll borrow a hat from the girls.

The girls? Send.

Hallie and Corey. They are mated into the Crew. They're cool. And their closets are ridiculous.

Okay. Tell them thank you so much, I'll give it right back after the float. Send.

I gotta go. The Crew is calling another meeting. Gotta clean up some stuff. I'll try to make it tomorrow.

He would try? Okay, so it wasn't for-sure happening. No pressure. Send.

Goodnight, mystery girl.

She smiled and got this strange fluttering sensation in the middle of her stomach.

Goodnight, mystery boy. Send.