7. Sienna

7

SIENNA

M y fox crept forward, her paws silent against the damp earth, while she twitched her nose, scanning the air for the scent of Xander’s raven. The forest felt alive, and the trees seemed to whisper that danger was close.

Lucius’s grave was nearby.

My fox and I could both sense it. The suffocating heaviness in the air pressed against my fox. She grew more alert as the sharp scent of decay intensified.

Had it always smelled this way in this section of the woods? Or was it because of who was buried here?

When Lucius’s grave came into view, a shiver slid through my fox. She didn’t want to be here any more than I did, but we both knew that we had to figure out if this was where Xander’s raven had decided to nest. My fox lifted her gaze to the treetops, but before she could scan for any sign of a nest, a noise sounded behind her.

My fox froze.

The instinct to run powered through me, but she didn’t react the same way. Instead, she slowly turned around without a hint of the panic I felt. It took me all of two seconds to realize why.

Ben.

He stood a few feet back, partially hidden by a tree. His posture was cautious, but not threatening. It was clear he hadn’t expected to have been heard or seen. The look on his face—a mixture of curiosity and wonder—made my stomach drop.

He’d seen me shift.

He knew what I was.

The truth hit me like a swift punch to the gut. There was no undoing this, no taking it back. Ben knew shifters existed now.

Why hadn’t my fox noticed he was behind us?

When she straightened her posture, I realized that she had. She hadn’t wanted me to know, though. That explained how I’d missed his presence entirely.

Shit.

What was I supposed to do now?

For a long moment, my fox and I stared at him. His gaze was fixed on us, too. Of course it was. Something flickered through his hazel eyes.

Understanding? Admiration? What was that?

Before I could think on it further, the sudden sharp, piercing caw of a raven shattered the silence of the night. My fox tensed, instinct taking over as she crouched low to the ground. Xander’s raven swooped down from a branch high above, his glossy black feathers glinting faintly in the moonlight. My fox zeroed in on him as he landed on top of Lucius’s grave. The air suddenly filled with a darker, more ominous energy, which sent alarm nipping at my fox.

We needed to get Ben out of here.

Before my fox could do anything, the suffocating, invasive reach of Xander’s mind control slammed into her. Pain lanced through her skull, nearly bringing her flat to the ground, and fury surged through us both because neither of us wanted to fucking bow to him again.

My fox dug in deep, struggling to resist the overwhelming pressure of his grip on us, a snarl of defiance ripping from somewhere deep inside her. She bared her teeth while attempting to force him out of our head, but it wasn’t enough.

He was too strong.

Through the haze of pain twisting through our brain, my fox and I caught a glimpse of Ben stepping forward. I wanted to scream at him to stay back, to not get involved, but pain pumped through my fox in a near-crippling way while she fought against Xander’s hold. Ben was too close, and there was nothing we could do about it. He’d underestimated the situation.

Why wouldn’t he?

He had no idea who he was dealing with, or how much worse this was about to get.

Panic twisted through my fox and me. It fueled her strength to fight against Xander’s grip. She’d made a vow, a vow that Ben wouldn’t be harmed. It was the vow of a fox, which was something stronger than I’d ever known possible.

He meant something to her—something in a big way.

Wait.

Was he?

Before I could think the thought through, Ben reached out in one swift motion and plucked Xander’s raven up from the ground. He flapped his wings wildly and cawed out in protest, but before Xander’s raven could attempt to shift back into his human form, Ben tucked his head beneath one of his wings and gave him a firm shake.

The pain raging through my fox’s skull vanished.

Xander’s grip on us was gone, and the suffocating weight of his presence in our mind had lifted. My fox was unsettled by how easily the connection had been severed, but grateful nonetheless, and I felt the same.

Ben cradled Xander’s now-limp raven in his arms, staring at him with a mix of confusion and triumph.

“What the hell is with this bird?” he muttered, shaking his head before setting Xander’s raven on the ground. “And what happened a minute ago? You looked like he was causing you physical pain somehow.”

His eyes lifted to lock with my fox’s, and I could see how silly he felt talking to her. My fox didn’t seem to notice. Her attention slid away from him to focus on Xander’s raven. She inched forward cautiously, sniffing his unmoving form. He was alive, she was positive of that, but he was knocked out cold. Whatever strange dance Ben had done with him had made him fall asleep.

Now was our chance to snag a feather for Maribel.

Inching closer, my fox plucked a glossy black feather from a wing. Once she had it, she turned to Ben and nudged his leg urgently.

“Right. Time to go,” he said, thankfully understanding.

My fox stayed alert, her ears swiveling at every sound, while Ben followed close behind as we made our way back to the road. I realized then that Ben’s truck was parked only a short distance from my car. Again, I couldn’t believe I’d missed him following me. My fox stirred, guilt powering through her, but there was no time to dwell on it. Xander’s raven could wake any minute.

We had to get out of here.

My fox stepped to the side, allowing me to shift back into my human form quickly. The cool air kissed my bare skin as she receded, taking her warm fur with her. Before I could feel self-conscious about my sudden lack of clothing in front of Ben, he shrugged off his jacket and held it out to me with his head turned away like a gentleman.

“Here,” he said.

“Thanks.” I pulled it on, clutching it tightly around me to fight off the chill in the air.

It was warm with his body heat, and his scent clung to the fabric invading my senses. I stared at him for a moment, wondering what to say. When words wouldn’t form, I bent to grab the feather from the ground and put it in Ben’s coat pocket.

Relief washed over me.

I’d finally gotten what we needed. Now Maribel could do her ritual and send Lucius’s spirit back to hell where it belonged.

Ben cleared his throat. I felt as though it was to remind me of his presence and the explanation he desired.

“Just a second.” I held up a finger and then hurried into the woods for my clothes.

My heart thundered as I dressed.

What should I say to him? How could I even begin to explain something like this to a human?

While I knew he’d seen me shift, an explanation was still needed.

Wasn’t it?

Also, I should explain about Xander and his raven. Ben needed to know everything. My fox agreed. Still, she seemed unfazed by the fact that Ben now knew what we were or that he’d been dragged into the chaos with Xander. Her attention was fixed on the feather safely tucked inside his jacket pocket and the role he’d played in getting it.

That held weight with her.

When I stepped back out of the woods, Ben was still there, waiting for me. His hands were crammed into the front pockets of his jeans and he stood, leaning against his truck. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes said everything.

“I know you have questions,” I said before he could speak. “You probably have things you want to say too, but it’s not safe here. Xander—I mean, the raven—isn’t going to sleep for long.”

He pushed off his truck and shook his head. “He’ll most likely wake in a few minutes.” His jaw tensed and his brows furrowed. “Xander. So, that raven—is it like you? He can transform?”

“Yes. We’re called shifters,” I said simply, not daring to elaborate yet. “Please, Ben. Just follow me to my place. I promise I’ll explain everything once we get there.”

All I wanted was for us to get the heck out of here, to put distance between us and Xander.

He nodded again. “Lead the way.”

I exhaled a slow breath, then walked toward my car. Cranking the engine, the weight of what I needed to tell Ben settled heavily on my shoulders. I liked him—a lot—and the thought of him walking away after hearing everything twisted painfully in my chest. My fox nuzzled me gently. It was her way of saying she believed he wouldn’t do that. Even so, my grip on the steering wheel tightened as I drove, my knuckles turning white while I tried to piece together how this conversation might go.

Unusually calm, my fox curled up in the corner of my mind, radiating a sense of safety and certainty that things would work out fine, one I didn’t share.

It wasn’t logical—not after everything that just happened.

Even so, she trusted Ben.

Deep down, so did I.

When I pulled into my driveway, Ben’s truck rolled in behind me. Some of the tension in my chest loosened as I swept my gaze over my sanctuary.

This place wasn’t much, but it was mine.

It was safe, and it had been the fresh start I’d built for myself after everything with Lucius and the Ashen Tribe first settled.

I drew in a deep breath, bracing against the nerves clawing at my stomach while I cut the engine on my car.

This was it.

Ben had seen too much tonight for me to deflect or dodge any questions. There was no other choice besides telling him the truth.

My only hope was that it didn’t scare him away.