Chapter Seven

Owen felt like death warmed over.

He should be used to this, truly he should, because where he'd come from, his people fought all the time, but with boars he knew what to expect. They all had the same weapons—tusks for goring, size for charging, sharp hooves for slashing.

In the Fastlanders? The grizzlies were a problem, and healing from claw marks and bite wounds was brutal. Ace had powers that Owen was pretty sure no one knew the extent of, and lion, vampire, or freaking-space-traveler, fighting him was rough.

And now Wreck had entered the chat.

That was unfortunate.

Owen's skin looked fine for the most part, just red where the heat in the water had touched him, but it burned under his skin more than made any sense. If he was feeling this raw, probably Silver was feeling something similar. He didn't like that. Didn't like her hurting.

"You and Ace stay here with the girls," Gunner growled, and damn, right now the Alpha was making the entire clearing feel like the air had weight. He was worked up, and fair enough. None of them had probably ever felt Wreck's power before. It didn't feel awesome.

Owen took another bite of the cold steak and gestured toward the road. "Someone's coming. I hear a couple engines."

"Police?" Captain asked from where he was still kneeling in the yard. He was all cut up from Owen's tusks, but already the slashes had stopped bleeding. He must've been hurting though, because he sure wasn't moving much.

Gunner stood at the mouth of the entrance to the clearing, right in the middle of the one lane gravel drive. Owen watched the tension in his shoulders lessen when he got eyes on the truck, and with the shake of his head, Gunner strode off the road to make way for the large Black SUV that rolled slowly toward the house. Following it was Owen's truck.

Confusion swirled inside of him. He was busy trying to make out the figure who was driving his truck behind the dark tint, and so he didn't pay much attention to the leading SUV.

"Shhhit," Captain muttered under his breath, but Owen didn't realize who it was until a tall, dark-haired man got out of the driver's side. He had silver eyes with elongated pupils, and silver hair at his temples.

Damon Daye.

Now, most everyone who knew anything about shifters would be scrambling to show respect to the Blue Dragon himself, but Owen? Owen couldn't pry his gaze away from the big, barrel-chested man who stepped out of his truck, and tossed him the keys. Mason. Mason the Beast Boar was here. Mason had driven Owen's truck from where he'd parked it at Dart's.

Owen struggled upward and put his hands formally behind his back, realized he was still bare-ass naked, and covered his nethers as he watched Mason say something to Damon Daye, who then headed to Gunner.

Mason barely looked Owen's direction before he pulled something out of the back seat. It was a large plastic bin. He brought it over to Captain and set it in front of him. "Here is everything we could get from the river bank. The floats are deflated. Too many claw marks to save them. I put some extra clothes in there too."

"Thank you," Captain uttered low, opening the lid to the bin. He tossed Owen a pair of sweats and then struggled to his feet, pulled on a pair for himself.

And Owen, like a moron, stood there holding a pair of sweats and a half-eaten steak, staring at Mason because all coherent or intelligent speech had abandoned him.

Mason. It was really Mason. Here, in the flesh.

Mason. Mason the most influential boar shifter in the entire shifter universe.

Mason his idol!

"Hey, hi, hello," Owen said lamely.

Mason narrowed his eyes at him and nodded a greeting, then made his way back to the SUV.

Owen took a step forward to stop him, but nothing cool came out of his mouth. "It was mice to neet you. Nice to meet you. Again."

"Why are you being weird?" Captain asked.

Owen flipped him off and watched dejectedly as Mason drove Damon Daye back down the road in the black SUV.

He stood there frozen until the taillights disappeared.

Now, he wasn't a blusher in general, and as much as he wished he could blame it on the burns from Wreck, his cheeks heating up was completely from embarrassment. He'd missed his shot to talk to the Beast Boar.

He muttered a curse under his breath and turned for the house.

"What do you want from Moosey's?" Gunner called.

"Everything," he muttered.

"Dude, that was hilarious," Captain called. "You were just so weird to Mason."

"Shut up, man!"

"Captain, stop baiting everyone!" Gunner belted out. "I'm so sick of all of y'all's shit today. Get in the truck!"

"I don't know why I have to go—"

"Because you manage Moosey's! You know what to order! For the love of God, make one thing easy on me today!" Gunner yelled.

Captain stood and Owen noticed how shaky he was. "I'm hurt."

"We're all hurt," Gunner gritted out, gripping his waist with his hands. His eyes were too bright and a snarl accompanied his tone.

"Yeah, well I don't like being in close quarters with anyone when I'm hurt!" Captain yelled back. "You want me to Change in the truck and shred you and the fucking vehicle? Go ahead and order me to go! Or you can let me rest for an hour, and then I'll be able to control myself again!"

Owen got that. He sighed and gave the cabin a last longing glance before he said, "I'll go with you. I know what to order." He was hurt, sure, but he could control the animal near Gunner. "Can I check on the girls first?"

"You mean can you check on Silver?" Ace asked from where he was leaning against the cabin.

Owen ignored him, and got the nod from Gunner, and the, "You have three minutes and then your ass better be in the truck."

He gave a curt nod and then pulled on the sweats fast, and pushed his aching body up the stairs and into the cabin. He'd seen some of this room in the pictures Silver had sent him last night, but he still had to follow his nose to find her.

He passed a bathroom in the hallway, where Hallie and Corey were cleaning up.

"Down the hall," Corey told him, pointing.

He thanked her low and then braced against the wall to ward off the urge to pass out. Wreck was the worst Crew member in the history of Crew members. Whatever horrible magic-mojo-burning-shit he'd done to Owen's body was awful.

In the bedroom, he found Silver sitting on the bed, staring blankly at the wall. The look on her face pulled at his insides. He knocked softly, jarring her out of whatever thoughts were consuming her.

She looked startled and then smiled. It was forced though, and he hated it.

Silver was still naked, and fuck, she was so pretty, but she was cut up from the fight, and her skin had big red patches all over it. Sure, those didn't look like bad burns, but he knew what his felt like.

"I…" She looked around like she was searching for something. "I haven't put on my clothes." Aw man, she wasn't thinking clear yet.

He stepped forward and knelt in front of her, pulled the comforter from the bed and wrapped it around her. "It's okay. There isn't a rush. I have to go, but I wanted to check on you before I left."

"Go? Where are you going?" She talked in this small voice, and her cheeks were pale.

"It hurts, huh?" he asked softly.

Her soft brown eyes darted to her lap. "I feel fine." Lie.

Owen didn't like this shift in her. This quietness. This faltering smile that didn't reach her eyes.

He hooked a finger under her chin and lifted gently until she met his gaze. "I feel like shit, but it's okay. We're okay."

She shrugged and her eyes filled with moisture and God, his heart was physically hurting. "I'm sorry," she choked out.

Confused, he shook his head. "For what?"

"That was all my f—"

He couldn't listen to it. Didn't want to hear her take on the blame. He leaned into her and pressed his lips against hers. Under his touch, she froze like a statue, and he thought of disengaging, but he couldn't. She tasted so good, and her lips were soft, and she wasn't apologizing for things she didn't do wrong when his lips were pressed onto hers like this. Should he have asked if it was okay? Maybe. Should he have read her body language and given her the option? Probably. But until she pushed him away, the devil inside of him didn't want to back off her.

He slid his hand to her neck and stayed frozen for a moment more as he kissed her. One more moment, and then she slid her arms around him and melted straight into him. A low rumbling sound escaped him as she pulled him close and parted her lips for him to push his tongue against hers.

And he did. He really tasted her. He tasted her and then pulled her hips to the very edge of the mattress so he could hug her against his chest. Owen angled his face the other way and kissed her deeper, and fuck, he wanted more. He wanted everything.

She was so warm, and so soft, and she moved so perfectly against him.

A honk from outside sounded, and Owen ended the kiss, rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes against his frustration. He stayed like that for three breaths before he eased back and stood, fully expecting to sway with the effort.

He was surprised at how good he felt standing though. The wooziness had disappeared completely, and the burn under his skin lessened by the second. Shocked, he looked down at his torso, and already the redness was fading.

Baffled, he looked to Silver, and she was staring at him wide-eyed. "What did you just do?" she whispered.

"I don't…" He ran his hand down the healing slash-marks from Captain that now looked a week old. The redness was fading more and more, and the pain was seeping from him like a fog.

Owen reached down and pushed the blanket off her shoulder, and studied the fading red splotches across her collar bone.

"I don't know," he finished.

Another honk sounded, and Owen gritted his teeth and glanced at the door. "I need to get you food. I'm going with Gunner."

"Oh." Her pretty soft brown eyes searched his with an unspoken question.

"Do you feel up to coming with me?" he asked, not wanting to be separated after whatever had just happened between them.

She nodded. "Can I have a couple minutes to get dressed?"

"Of course." He made his way to the door, but she stopped him with his name whispered on her lips. He turned. "Yeah?"

"I told you not to do that again until you meant it."

"I listened to you."

His nostrils flared with her sharp inhalation of breath, and she nodded. "Okay then."

"Okay then," he repeated. "Gunner's got his panties in a twist. Be quick, yeah?"

She stood and made her way to the dresser in a rush.

"Owen!" Gunner roared from outside.

Owen wanted to punch his stupid Alpha right in the throat. He strode down the hallway and past the bathroom through the living room and out the front door. He parted his lips to yell at Gunner, but something came flying at his face from the side, and he caught it on reflex. It was a phone.

Confused, he held it up to Captain. "This isn't mine."

"It's your girlfriend's." Captain's eyes were glowing even brighter now. "Scroll the messages on the lock screen."

Anger boiled in Owen's blood. "Fuck off, Captain." He strode for the truck, his glare on him. He yanked open the driver's side door and slid in, told Gunner, "Two more minutes. Silver is coming with is."

"The hell she is."

Owen reached into the bag he kept in the back seat and found a T-shirt, pulled it over his head.

"I said the hell she is!" Gunner barked out.

"My truck, my rules."

"My Crew, my rules!"

"She ain't your Crew."

Gunner snatched the phone he'd set in the cupholder and looked at the home screen.

"Hey!" Owen barked out, grabbing for it.

Gunner was too fast and yanked it out of his reach.

"That's not yours," Owen growled.

"You said she isn't my Crew," Gunner murmured. The sound of his tone said Owen needed to stop pushing him. Gunner pointed the phone screen at him and said low, "And she never will be."

The very last text burned right through him. If you get a chance to kill the Alpha, do it the way I taught you.

Owen's heart sank to the floorboard, and slowly, he took the phone from Gunner. He scrolled up. It was text after text after text from Rook Holland.

None of them were good.

…I haven't floated a river since I was a kid…

…have fun but remember why you are there…

…proud of you…

…can't wait for you to be a Queen again…

…the Pride needs you…

…I knew you were the one for this job…

…I hate the thought of those fucking Fastlanders looking at you, thinking they have a chance. You're mine, Sil. Always have been and always will be. You won't have to question that anymore when you get home…

Owen got to one that said, missing you, and he couldn't do it anymore.

He opened his door and tossed the phone out, slammed the door closed, and clenched his fists on his thighs, wishing he could wash them. He felt dirty. He slammed his palm onto the steering wheel a few times, and yelled a curse.

The taste of her still lingered on his lips.

"Drive," Gunner growled.

Yep. Owen threw it into drive and pulled a quick U-turn and headed down the road. He looked up into the rearview just in time to see Silver come out onto the porch, dressed, with a confused look on her face, but he didn't slow. Instead, he hit the gas.

Gunner connected a call, and Owen could hear the voice who picked up. Hallie. "Pack her shit for her. Silver is to leave the territory right now."