by T. S. Joyce
“I love it,” she whispered thickly.
The tension melted from his shoulders, and he huffed a relieved sigh. A crooked smile took his lips, almost deep enough to expose one of his dimples, but not quite.
He showed her the small kitchen and single bedroom, which took up half the length of the trailer and was curiously normal after the tree-like living room. A queen-size bed boasted crisp white sheets under a folded down comforter that looked as soft as a cloud. His bathroom was just as tidy—a habit he must’ve picked up in his adult years because the boy she remembered had been scattered and his living space cluttered.
She brushed her fingers across the plush comforter, familiarizing herself with his place. There was a bookshelf along the wall three shelves high and made of oak. The top shelf was filled with childbirth books. She pulled one out and looked questioningly at him.
“Creed got Gia with a baby.” With a frown, he sat on the bed behind her. “My mom didn’t survive a baby. I wanted to make sure Gia would be okay.”
Aviana’s heart dropped to the floor. Of course he would be worried after what happened.
Easton’s mouth ticked as he pulled at the edges of the frayed black ribbon she’d gifted him the night his father died. She swallowed the gasp and froze into place so she wouldn’t attract his attention before she could get the shock wiped off her face. Where had he pulled that from?
“I like Gia. I was mad at Creed for putting her at risk, but she loves her baby. She wants it. Even though Gia is human, she isn’t weak. And her baby girl is strong, too.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “She’ll be dragon-blooded, you know.”
“Dragon-blooded?” Aviana asked, leaning back against the dresser. That sounded terrifying.
“Creed is the grandson of the last immortal dragon. He turned out grizzly, and maybe his daughter will, too. Or maybe not. Gia promised to have the baby in a hospital. Registered shifters can do that now. It’s not like when I was growing up, and we had to hide our young.”
She knew all about that. It had been the same for raven shifters. Until they were old enough to control their Changes, it was safest to live away from society, off the grid somewhere. It was still like that for growing families. Ravens weren’t out to the public like other shifters and likely never would be. Ravens were naturally more cautious than bears.
“I’m sorry about your mom.” Her voice quivered with emotion. Oh, how she’d wanted to say those words to him, but she’d only been able to bring him gifts and hope he interpreted her sympathy.
He pulled the black ribbon through his fingers and gave her that ghost of a smile. “Don’t be. It was a long time ago. I was a cub at the time. I barely even remember what she looks like.” His voice sounded odd though—hollow—and she’d bet her flight feathers he remembered everything in great detail. His mind had always been like that. Sharp as a blade, retaining everything he learned. It’s how he’d survived out there in those harsh woods alone at such a young age. He would try something until he figured out how it worked, and then he never made the same mistakes twice. His mind was a steel trap, just like the one—
Aviana closed her eyes against the vision of Easton screaming. Not now. Later, when she was alone. She couldn’t feed that memory now while he watched her with those bright eyes that missed nothing.
“You’re hungry.” Easton stood so fast he blurred, and she gasped at his speed.
Easton held his hands out. “Sorry,” he whispered.
“I think you’re being gentle around me.”
He nodded.
“Is it in your nature to be gentle?”
He shook his head slowly.
“Then I think maybe you should be yourself and allow me to adjust.”
“But you always smell scared. I don’t like it.”
“If I get used to you, then I won’t be such a chicken anymore, and I have a feeling I’ll like your real self even better, anyway.”
His eyebrows jacked up. “I assure you, you won’t.”
Aviana snorted and laughed. “How do you know?”
His eyes dipped to her lips as they stretched into a bigger smile. “Because I’m pretty damned sure no one on this planet can handle all of my…personality.” But now a smile was spreading across his face, and there they were—those dimples she’d wished with all of her heart to see.
Before she could change her mind, she stepped forward and pressed her finger against one. She’d seen them a hundred times in his youth but had never revealed herself as a human, and couldn’t touch the tiny indentations as a bird.
He inhaled a sharp breath as his pupils contracted to pinpoints and zeroed in on her. “What are you doing?”
“I like to touch you. And I like when you smile big enough for me to see these.” She moved out of the way of a dresser and looked at his reflection in the mirror with him. “Your smile is my favorite thing about you.”
“Are you broken, Ana?”
The question caught her off guard, and she had to wait a moment before answering, just to steady her thoughts. “Not broken, no.”
“Then why did you ask for me? Why did you come to my alpha for me? Why in the hell would you want to be mated to a man like me?”
“Because my life doesn’t feel hollow when I’m around you,” she said honestly.
He huffed a humorless laugh and looked down at the ribbon between his fingertips. “You make no sense.”
“I wasn’t happy—”
“Happy is just a word, Ana. It doesn’t really exist. It’s a state of mind people convince themselves they have so they can get through their existence one day at a time. You search for happiness, and when you think you find it, you work your whole life to hang onto this feeling as thin as air, and then you die. Happy is a bullshit word.”
Shocked, she sank down to the bed beside him. She’d never heard him string so many words together. He’d never been vocal about his opinions when he was younger, and now it was clear how jaded he’d become. He was wrong, though.
“Well then, I’ll make you happy and prove you wrong.” She stuck her tongue out at him and grinned.
Easton cocked his head and stared at her smile again. It seemed to attract his attention easily. “Whatever your reasons,” he murmured, “I’m glad you found me.”
Chapter Nine
Easton’s focus was dragged to Ana’s lips for the hundredth time. She smiled the more comfortable around him she became. She didn’t smell like fear anymore. Just vanilla.
What was it about her lips? Right now, she was sitting beside him on the living room couch, talking about her first job. She’d waited tables at some diner where she lived, and she had lots of funny stories about the people she’d worked with. Her lips looked like art as they formed each word.
Or maybe it was the kiss from last night he kept thinking about. The feel of her lips against his. He’d never once had the urge to kiss the other girls in the Gray Backs, but around Ana, it was all he could think about. Focus. She’s looking. She’ll think you’re weird like everyone else does. Keep her.
“So, what do you do for fun?”
“What do you do?” he countered. Not because he was avoiding the question, but because he was suddenly excruciatingly curious about what filled up her quiet hours.
Ana scrunched up her nose. “Don’t laugh.”
“I won’t.”
“Pinky promise.” She lifted her pinky in the air. “Hook your pinky onto mine and say, I pinky promise not to laugh.”
He did as she asked and reveled in the feel of her. So much so that he didn’t let go of her finger after he recited the oath. He just sank farther back into the couch cushion beside her with their pinkies hooked. She put her legs over his lap as if they’d known each other for always. He smiled at how fucking cute she was.
“I like to knit.”
“Like old ladies do? Hats and socks and blankets?”
“No. You’re smiling, Easton. Don’t let that get out of hand.” She waited for him to wipe hi
s amusement off his face before she continued. “I knit clothes for animals. Turtle sweaters with spikes on the back, and dog costumes for Halloween. I even made a dress for a guinea pig wedding once. People send me special requests online, and I make them.”
Easton waited for the laugh to die in his throat before he asked, “And they pay you money for these…costumes?”
Ana lifted her chin proudly. “Yes. I never told Caden about that stuff because I knew he would think it stupid and beneath me, and he would ask me to give it up.”
“Caden was your last mate?” His bear rattled a long growl inside of him.
Ana let go of his pinky and pressed her palm against his chest. “Not my choice. He was a smart pairing, but I didn’t care for him.”
“I would like to see a dress for a guinea pig.”
Ana dropped her gaze to her hand, but it didn’t hide her smile. Maybe happiness did exist. Ana looked happy now.
“Now, your turn. Tell me what you like to do.”
No one had ever asked him this before, so he took his time answering. “I like to chop wood.”
“Why?”
“Because it makes me feel like my bear isn’t going to rip out of my skin.”
The smile fell from Ana’s face. “Does it feel like that often?”
He nodded. Best she know what she was in for. “All the time.”
“Every minute?”
He nodded. “Except it’s not so bad when I’m around you. Or chopping firewood.”
“What do you do with the wood?”
“I could take care of you.”
She propped a pair of throw pillows under her head and relaxed against the couch, her legs still draped over him. She was wearing jean shorts, so he rested his hand on her smooth legs. “Did you shave your legs?” he asked.
“Mmm hmm.”
“Did you shave my legs for me? In case I touched you here?” When he ran his fingertip up her shin, she shivered.
“Yes,” she said on a breath. Her face had gone all serious, and her pupils dilated, making the blue in her eyes look darker. “Now stop distracting me. What did you mean about taking care of me? I don’t want money, Easton. I just want you.”
“A cord of lumber goes for two-hundred fifty to three-hundred dollars come wintertime around here. I chop all spring and summer and sell in the fall after the first snow.”
“Sell to who?”
“Until Jason came along, I sold to backwoodsman. People who didn’t care I was a little…off. People who needed firewood because they hadn’t chopped enough for themselves because they were too old or sick or they couldn’t find enough dead trees. They have to be dead a long time so the heavy green middles dry out and turn white. Those are the ones that burn the best. I can charge more if I split it for them and deliver it to their cabins.”
“I thought you worked up in the mountains as a lumberjack.”
“That’s one of my jobs. I have three. My animal does best if I stay busy. He’s still wild as shit, but a busy mind makes him manageable. Kind of.”
“Jason helps you now?”
“He’s my friend. We went in as partners this past fall. I had a lot of wood to unload, we needed to sell closer to town, and I can’t talk to people. I can’t. Jason’s good. He talks. I chop.”
“I like Jason. It’s a good business you two are doing.”
He stroked his finger up and down her leg, watching the chills that washed up her soft skin in waves. “Logging is seasonal, so we all work different jobs during fire-season.”
“What else do you like to do?”
“Kiss you.” He tossed her a sideways glance and slid out from under her legs. If he kissed her here in his den where she was spreading around her sexy scent—pheromones and vanilla—he would want more. Ana was fragile. Ana couldn’t bed a man like him. Easton stood and held out his hand, palm up. “Do you want to see what else I like to do?”
Her lips parted slightly, and she blinked slowly as she slid her palm against his and nodded. He liked that he had such an effect on her. She smelled so fucking good he wanted to bury his face between her legs, but he wouldn’t. He liked Ana. He wanted to keep her, not scare her.
She was wearing a thin, soft, black blouse, and the gooseflesh he’d conjured so easily on her legs bothered him, so he pulled his heavy canvas jacket off the coat rack by the front door. He draped it over her shoulders before he led her out the front door. It was lined with wool and would keep her warm.
He gave a private smile when he heard her sniff the jacket. Little human knew how to use some of her senses at least.
“Easton?” Ana asked. Her voice sounded odd as she tugged his hand. The porch light illuminated her troubled eyes, so he drew up closer. Perhaps she was still cold. Or hungry or thirsty or tired or sick. She didn’t smell sick. He didn’t really know how to take care of humans.
“I want to tell you something.” Ana searched his eyes as she snuggled deeper into his jacket.
“Okay.” This sounded bad. He was always ready for bad, though.
She didn’t answer for a long time. Instead, some of the fear smell came back, and she couldn’t hold his gaze anymore. At last, she smiled faintly and whispered, “Thank you for the jacket.”
That wasn’t what she’d meant to say. It wouldn’t have been so hard for her to thank him. He forgot manners all the time, but Ana wasn’t like him. She was socialized. Or civilized. But there were a million things he wasn’t ready to tell her, too, so he wouldn’t push. That wouldn’t be fair. “It’s okay if you have secrets.”
Her big blue eyes were rimming with tears. She nodded slowly as her chin quivered from where she was trying to keep her emotions bottled up.
“Soft and full of tears,” he murmured as he thumbed away the first drop that fell from her eye to her cheek.
“Do you have secrets, Easton?”
“Infinite secrets.” More secrets than stars in the sky.
“If you ever want to tell me, I’ll help you keep them.”
Easton made a ticking sound behind his teeth and eased away from her. Danger. Scritch scratch. Secrets and memories were the same. They belonged to the dark. He was strong enough to hold them, but Ana was too fragile to shoulder his broken pieces. He would spare her the pain because he liked her. He was the avalanche, and she the hummingbird, and the only real gift he could give her was to not crash down upon her and crush her into oblivion.
“Come,” he murmured, pulling her toward his workshop. This place was as sacred as his den, but he wanted to share everything with Ana. It was as much of himself as he could show her. “Wait here.” He didn’t want her tripping over the workbench in the middle or any of his tools he might have left lying about. When he pulled the string to the single lightbulb that hung from the ceiling, it illuminated the entire shop. Easy to do since it wasn’t very big. He could’ve built it much bigger, but this was the size of the workshop Dad had used. In a shop just this size, Easton had learned to be a knife maker.
He watched with a ready smile as her eyes drifted over the tools hung on the wall and the workbench with the trio of wooden handles held together with clamps, ready for staining. She looked at the bowl of discarded blades he kept telling himself he would salvage someday because steel like that deserved a home in a fine leather sheath. He would right his mistakes: bad cuts and notches, weak spots in the steel, and experimental decorative edges gone wrong.
She padded over the sawdust floor and touched the finished hilt of a knife that was ready for a sheath. “Easton,” she whispered. “These are beautiful.”
Sure, he knew they were fine knives, but hearing Ana compliment his work filled him with pride. Slowly, so he wouldn’t startle her, he squared up behind her and reached around her. Gently, he took the knife from her hands and set it on the table. Brushing his lips against her neck just to taste the skin there, he picked up the sharp awl he used for engraving.
E + A, he carved neatly into the hilt. Girls liked things that matched, and no
w she would have one just like Willa, Gia, and Georgia. “This is yours. My first gift to you.” The first of many if he didn’t scare her away.
Ana sniffled and leaned back against him. She nuzzled her cheek against his once. Affectionate little creature. She liked to do that. Soft skin against his raspy whiskers. He smiled and slid the knife into one of the sheaths that had been hanging up to dry. The snap of the button clasp was loud in the silence of his workshop, but now it was safe for her to handle with the razor-sharp blade tucked away.
Ana turned in his arms, and her eyes swam with such adoration it nearly buckled his knees. No one had ever looked at him like this. Like he was everything.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he warned.
She slipped her arms around his neck and leaned up. “Good.”
He tried to stay gentle, he really did, but when Ana bit his lip and gripped the back of his hair, he lost control over his animal fast. He lifted her onto the workbench and dug his fingers into her hips in desperation to keep himself in check. A growl rattled his throat as she nipped him again. “Careful, woman.”
A whiff of fear, and then nothing but arousal again, and it was plain as day Ana was finding her bravery with him. He smiled against her lips and plunged his tongue into her mouth. He dragged her forward across the table until her legs wrapped around him and her sex pressed against his raging erection. With a soft moan, Ana rolled her hips against his, and he just about lost it. Heaving breath, he trailed kisses down her neck to try and steady himself. His eyes would scare her if she saw them right now, so when she tried to pull his gaze to hers, he closed his eyes and angled his face away from her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, hugging him tightly.
“I want you,” he gritted out. Wanted to be buried inside of her, but she deserved better.
“You can have me. I’ve waited so long for this.” She rested her palm on his cheek and pulled his gaze back to hers again. Honesty pooled in her deep blue eyes when she whispered, “I’m yours.”
“Won’t risk putting a baby in you.”