28. Mason

Chapter twenty-eight

Mason

A fter Shya fell asleep in my arms again, I slipped out to make a phone call. When I was done, I turned to find Derek leaning on the wall outside of Shya's room. I raised an eyebrow in question.

"She's still asleep."

I nodded. "Thanks."

"I heard what you said to her. About Dad."

My face went blank. I hadn't lied to Shya. We'd never talked about Dad after I killed him, and I wasn't sure if Derek and Sam knew what had happened to him.

"You did the right thing, you know. You did what you had to do to protect us."

I studied him, wondering if he really meant it. Derek kept his eyes on mine, and I nodded. His words eased something inside of me that I hadn't realized had been wound tightly all these years.

"Does Sam know?" I asked.

"He suspects. We both did. But he'll feel the same as me. We owe you, Mason. We won't forget that."

I placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're my brother. You don't owe me anything."

Derek nodded. "You sure you want to do this?"

"Do what?"

"Take her back. There's no telling what will happen when she goes back there. Officially, she's still promised to Edmond."

I glanced at the door to her room. She'd looked so small and vulnerable in the hospital bed. "She needs time to heal. After what Tristan's done to her, it has to be her choice, Derek. She has to come to me because she wants to."

He nodded.

"I need to go out for an hour. You'll protect her?"

"You have to ask?"

Three hours later, we were getting ready to leave the hospital. Milly and AJ had gone out and picked up some clothes for Shya. She'd gotten dressed in the bathroom. It had taken her a long time, and she'd refused any help from me or Milly. She wanted to do this on her own, needed to, I was guessing, so we gave her that.

She finally emerged from the bathroom, dressed in blue jeans and a fitted black short-sleeved shirt. Bruises covered her arms and face, but she looked more beautiful than ever.

"Ready to take on the world?" I said, a smile tilting my lips.

Shya raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of her old spark in her eyes. "I don't know about the world. Maybe just a small country to start with."

My smile widened. "I think we can arrange that. Any preference on which country?"

She pretended to think for a moment. "Something warm. With beaches. And those little umbrella drinks."

"Umbrella drinks, huh? I didn't take you for the fruity cocktail type."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Mason Shaw," she said, a playful smirk on her face.

"Maybe, but I'm looking forward to finding out."

She smiled at me, a glint in her eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

I stepped closer, not wanting her to disappear into her head, and gently took her hand. "I have something for you."

I gestured to the pile of boxes stacked in the corner.

"What's this?"

"Well, I know you like shoes, but I wasn't sure what type of shoes you wanted. So I got a selection."

Her eyes widened. "A selection? There are fifteen boxes there, Mason. Fifteen!"

I shrugged. "I don't know much about shoes, so I grabbed a few."

She opened the first box and gasped. "Mason! These are Christian Louboutin ‘So Kate' pumps in black patent leather."

She looked at me like this was supposed to mean something.

"So, a good choice?"

"The best, Mason! The best choice. Oh, the Goddess!" She'd opened another box and pulled out the Balenciaga gray running sneakers. "These are supposed to be so comfy you could fall asleep in them."

I smiled, pleased that she liked them. She kept going, pulling out Jimmy Choo pumps in a soft blue, Dolce you have to take them back!"

Too late; I'd seen her reaction when she'd opened each of the boxes. If I needed to buy her shoes every day for the rest of my life to get her to smile like that, I'd do it.

"I own the most sought-after PI agency in the north, Shya. I can afford a few shoes. "

She looked at the shoes like a child going into a candy shop for the first time and seeing so many sweets that they didn't know where to start.

"No one has ever bought me shoes before. I love them. All of them. But … how am I supposed to choose?"

"Well." I looked at the shoes around her. "How do you want to feel?"

She glanced at me sharply. "How do I want to feel?"

I kneeled down beside her, careful not to disturb the circle of shoes. "I've watched you, Shya. You love your shoes. It's like, I don't know, like different shoes bring out different parts of your personality. So, how do you want to feel today? We'll find a shoe to match."

She studied my face, then looked down at her lap. "I'm beginning to understand why you are such a good investigator. You're good at noticing things."

"I'm good at noticing things about you."

The most adorable blush crept over her face, and she glanced up at me from under her lashes.

"You really think we're fated mates?" she whispered.

"Yes. I believe it utterly, to the depths of my soul and back again. You are the only one for me, princess. The only question is what you believe."

Her fingers traced the edge of a Louboutin box. "I … I just don't know, Mason. I honestly don't know what I feel or what I believe. Tristan messed with my mind; he jumbled up all my feelings, so what was up was down, and what was down was up. Until I can work out how I really feel, I can't trust anything. Not even what my heart or my body are telling me."

I arched one eyebrow. "And what are your heart and body telling you right now?" I asked, my voice low.

She smiled cheekily at me. "That I love all these shoes."

I fought the urge to kiss her senseless. I knew, after everything, I was going to have to take things real slow. Instead, I put one hand over my heart and fell back onto the floor as if she'd struck me. Shya giggled. It was a fucking fantastic sound, and I was so relieved that parts of her were coming back.

"And how do you want to feel wearing the shoes you so love?"

"In control. Like I can handle anything."

"And you can," I said firmly. "With or without the shoes. But if they help you feel that way, then that's what matters."

Shya was quiet for a moment; then, she looked up at me with a mix of curiosity and something deeper, more intense. "Why did you really buy all these, Mason?"

I took a deep breath. "Because I wanted to give you choices. Options. I wanted you to know that no matter how you're feeling—strong, vulnerable, playful, serious—you have the power to be who you want to be. You're in control of this, Shya. The shoes highlight part of you, but they don't change who you are. It's all you. With or without the shoes. And I'll be here, supporting you, no matter which pair you put on."

She reached out and placed her hand on my arm. "Thank you. Not just for the shoes. For finding me. For being here with me."

I cupped the back of her head. "I'll always find you, Shya. Always."

Then Shya smiled; a real, genuine smile that lit up her whole face.

"So," she said, a hint of mischief in her voice, "want to help me try these on?"

I grinned back at her. "I thought you'd never ask."

When we made our way outside, the others were waiting for us by the SUV. She'd gone with the Gucci sneakers, saying she wanted to be able to kick the shit out of anyone who was stupid enough to try to attack us on the way.

Derek smiled at Shya as we approached. "Looking good, Shya. You ready to hit the road?"

She offered him a small smile and nodded. I'd seen the spark of who she was back in the hospital room, and I wasn't going to let her disappear into herself again.

"No retreats," I whispered into her ear. "You're a princess, a Little. Never forget that."

Her back straightened, and her chin rose as she looked back at Derek. "I'm ready."

Derek's grin widened. "Damn right, you are."

"Mason," AJ said, stepping forward, "a word?"

I glanced down at Shya. She looked from AJ to me. "Go, I'll do my best not to be kidnapped walking from here to the car."

I watched as Derek opened the door for her, then turned and followed AJ.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes. I just don't think it's a good idea for me to go to Bridgetown."

I frowned. "Why?"

AJ sighed, running a hand over his beard. "My bear attacked Tucker. Brutally. That's not a reminder the Little family needs right now. They've got enough to deal with."

AJ had helped us find Shya, had put himself on the line, but I couldn't deny his point. The Littles were grieving. Having the man who mauled their son and brother showing up wouldn't help matters.

Milly came up behind AJ. "While you boys are nattering about this, I have no intention of going within twenty miles of a Pack. You can drop me off with AJ."

I looked between them, torn. AJ still hadn't found his mate, and I'd promised I'd do all I could to help him. As soon as Shya had been stabilized, both AJ and Milly had headed back to where we'd found Shya. The bodies were gone. They'd followed the scent trails back to the camp and found it deserted. AJ's mate hadn't been there, and Tristan had gone into hiding. Again.

"We'll keep working on finding out where Tristan is." AJ crossed his arms.

I studied them for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. We'll drop you both off at the border."

I kept my word, and when we reached the border of Bridgetown territory, Derek pulled over. Shya was asleep on the back seat. Her wolf still hadn't shown up, and without the ability to Shift right now, she was still healing and fighting off the effects of the witch's spell. AJ, Milly, and I got out and stood facing each other.

"Are you sur—?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely," Milly interrupted.

AJ grinned at me. "You need anything, you call me." His face turned serious. "We find anything, we'll be in touch."

I searched his face, seeing the resolve there. "And I'll be there. Thank you … for everything."

Milly gave me a curt nod, her way of saying goodbye. Then they were gone, disappearing into the trees.

I turned back to the car, to Shya. One step at a time. Get her home. Keep her safe. Everything else could wait.

We hadn't even come to a stop in front of the Bridgetown Alpha House when the door flew open, and Tucker rushed out.

"Shya!"

Shya jumped out of the car, and he flew into her arms, hugging her fiercely. Camille was next, and in seconds, she had joined them, her arms around them both, tears streaming down her face.

"I'm so sorry, Mom," Shya sobbed. "About Dad, about everything."

"Shush." Camille stroked the hair away from her daughter's face. "Don't you worry about that now. You're home; that's the most important thing. Nothing else matters."

Henry appeared in the driveway, but he didn't join his family. Instead, he stood awkwardly to one side. His eyes met mine, and he nodded once in thanks. It had only been a few weeks since I'd last seen him, but he looked older, grimmer. The teenager I'd known was gone, and a young man stood before me, one touched by death and responsibility.

My princess noticed, too, and wasn't having it. She reached out and grabbed Henry, pulling him into the family hug. Their bodies shook with the force of their shared grief and relief, the reality of Michael's death swirling around them like a tangible presence, a gaping wound in the fabric of their family.

I turned, wanting to give them some privacy, and saw Edmond in the doorway. His eyes were fixed on Shya. He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms, his face an unreadable mask. My wolf growled.

Challenger.

Yes, I agreed. We would have to deal with him soon.