Masked SheWolf

by Yara Gharios

  Logan breathes out heavily in frustration, and shakes his head. "I don't think this time will be as easy," he complains.

  I want to say something that would help him, but I've never given the best of advice. The only thing I know is how to lighten the mood with humor. Somehow, I don't think that's going to work in this situation. Logan's moody behavior is not something I'm familiar with. I'm good with the laid back Logan and the serious Logan, but I'm not sure how the pissed-off Logan would take my attempt to joke.

  "I'm sorry, Logan," Sadie tries to console him.

  She's good with the tender voice and all that crap, which is exactly what we need right now. Unfortunately, it doesn't work, and Logan simply walks out of the room saying he'll wait in the car while Cade gets his stuff. A moment later, while the lovebirds are busy with each other, I follow him.

  He's at the front door when I catch up with him. "Hey," I call out to him to stop him.

  Logan faces me and gives me a quizzical look. "Yeah?"

  I struggle for words. "Uh, um." I did not think this through when I came after him. "What do you need to get from the house in Maine?" I blurt unexpectedly.

  He frowns and his eyes become distant. "I don't know, exactly," he admits. "She forgot some things there when we left, and she's been saying that she wants some of it back. I guess I figure if I find something important enough to her, I could bring it back and make her happy."

  That's an interesting plan. "And if you don't?"

  He hesitates, his stare focusing back on me. "I don't know."

  We stand in silence for a moment, neither of us saying anything or trying to leave.

  Screw it, I'll just be honest. That's worked before.

  "What happened this time?" I dare say.

  Logan sighs then walks over to the living room, and I know we're about to have another heart-to-heart moment. I'm really starting to like those. He takes his spot in the armchair and I sit adjacent to him on the couch, facing the chimney and television set. He remains quiet for a bit before answering me.

  "I've been absent... a lot, in our relationship since we moved back here, and Reena's feeling neglected because of that," he tells me. "She misses the old house and wants to go back there. Things were very different between us there, they were easier, and she thinks that if we move back, we can go back to how we were then. But... I'm trying to make our move here permanent, and she disagrees with that."

  I take a moment to let it all sink in and try to think of the best advice to give him. When I come up blank, I decide to just say what's on my mind, as I usually do with him.

  "Look, I can't pretend to know anything about relationships, especially not that of mates," I admit. "But, and it pains me to say this, I kind of agree with Reena on this one. Not the move, obviously, but your, uh, absence. I've noticed that you take a lot of trips, somewhere, which is not my business, but it's certainly not healthy for your relationship. You're missing out a lot of time with your mate."

  Logan looks away evasively. "You wouldn't think that if you knew what I was doing," he says cryptically.

  My eyebrows join together in confusion. "Well, yeah, maybe, but I don't, and like I said, it's not my business," I remind him.

  "I know," he sighs. "Believe me, I want to tell you. I don't know what it is, but there's just something about you that makes me trust you. You're the most honest person I know."

  I wait for him to take it back and say something else, but he doesn't see the humor I do. "You're kidding, right?"

  Up close, from this angle, I can tell that his eyes are grey. I never noticed this color before.

  "No," he replies hesitantly, my surprise making him doubt his statement. "Why? Do you disagree?"

  "No, no," I hastily assure him. "It's just..." How can I put this in a way that doesn't make him suspicious? "I don't tell you all my secrets."

  He relaxes again, and I almost sag in relief. "I don't expect you to, that's not what I meant," he tells me.

  "What did you mean, then?" I wonder.

  "When I ask for your opinion, you don't hold back, and you don't sugarcoat anything," he specifies.

  "Oh," I say with a little less surprise. "But that just means I speak my mind."

  He chuckles. "That's what I'm trying to say. I admire that about you."

  "Well." I pause. "Thanks... I think."

  One corner of his lips pulls up in a half smile. "No problem."

  There's a moment of comfortable silence before I remember how this whole conversation started and speak again. "So what are you going to do about Reena?"

  Logan sighs, looking tired now that we're back to that. "There's nothing I can do but try to make it up to her," he replies. "I'm certainly not going to stop taking those trips I've been taking."

  I purse my lips and consider his dilemma from another angle. "Why don't you try a different approach?" I suggest.

  He stares at me with confusion. "Like what?"

  I can't believe I'm about to take this girl's side. "I don't know what it is you're doing, and I know I probably can't ask you to tell me, but she's your mate, so I'm guessing she knows. Why don't you try to include her more in it?" I propose.

  "Reena would get bored with it; this sort of expedition is not her thing," he tells me.

  "It doesn't have to be her thing. Look, she's your mate," I point out. "All she wants is to spend time with you. You don't have to take her with you if you don't want to, but it doesn't really take much to make someone you care about happy; you just have to do something that reminds them you haven't forgotten about them."

  Logan's smile is full of approval, and he is impressed. "You might have a point. Thanks, Michael," he sincerely says.

  Smug, I give him a slight smile and nod. "My pleasure," I assure him. "I told you I would be your go-to man for relationship advice."

  He laughs, and I smile wider when he does. It's just so contagious.

  "Yeah, sure, you're a real romance expert," he goes with the joke.

  "Who's a romance expert? Dylan?" a voice says from the doorway into the living room.

  Logan and I turn at the same time and find Sadie standing there with a smirk on her face. Cade is right behind her and wears a similar expression. He also carries a duffel bag over his shoulder.

  "I think you must have him confused with someone else," she teases.

  "You're just jealous that I have all the good advice," I go on.

  "Sure, that's it," she humors me.

  The guys are amused by our exchange but don't go along with it. Cade lifts up the car keys and dangles them in front of him for Logan to see.

  "Car's ready," he says. "Let's go."

  Sadie latches onto his waist and buries her head in his neck. "Don't be too long or I'll miss you," she murmurs, though we can all hear it.

  He holds her in his arms and chuckles in her ear. "I'll miss you more... even if it won't take that long."

  I roll my eyes. "Okay, spare me the lovey-dovey stuff; you had plenty of time to do that upstairs," I point out.

  "I second that," Logan backs me up as he walks out of the living room.

  "Jealous idiots," Cade mutters.

  "I heard that," I loudly say, "and it's completely untrue."

  "Bye Michael," he replies in a sing-song voice.

  Chapter 24

  Sadie

  There is a definite crush situation going on. I can't believe I didn't notice it before. All the signs are there; she tries to make him happy, she perks up when we talk about him, and when they're alone together -which Cade and I have snuck down to see- she loves having his attention and listens to every word he says like he's sprouting the secrets of the universe. There is no denying that Dylan has a crush on Logan.

  When the guys are out the door and out of the driveway, I join her on the couch. The mischievous smile can't be contained from my face. This is either going to be really fun or really bad for me, but either way, I'm going to tease her endlessly about this until she admits it.

&nb
sp; Dylan notices my expression and frowns suspiciously. "What?" she demands.

  "You like Logan," I state.

  "'Course I do," she confirms. That was easy. "He's a great alpha and a good friend."

  I can't say that doesn't surprise me. This is really the last answer I would have expected. I didn't think she would misunderstand me.

  The laughter erupts without warning, and I shake my head in disbelief. "No," I say, drawing on the 'o' sound. "I mean you like like him. You have a crush on him."

  Dylan's eyes practically bulge out of their sockets, and her eyebrows almost fly up to the top of her forehead.

  "What?!" she chokes out.

  Her reaction just confirms it even more.

  "You totally do!" I insist.

  She gives me a flat look. "Sadie, you're delusional."

  "That's what you said when I found out you're a girl," I point out in a sing-song voice.

  She slaps her hand over my mouth and frantically shushes me. "Keep your voice down when you say stuff like that! Honestly Sadie, we're in a house full of werewolves, remember?"

  She is much too paranoid. It's to be expected, of course, because she's been drilled to fear everything her whole life. But the Silver Moon Pack is probably one of the few who would protect her. I can't force her to tell them, but I'm trying to give her hints so that she could think of it on her own.

  I have to forcibly remove her hand. "Oh relax, no one's going to hear," I assure her. "It's nine thirty on a Sunday morning; most are still in bed and anyone who's awake is out."

  "You don't know that; somebody could still hear us," she hisses.

  "Yes I do know; I know the house's schedule, remember?"

  "Oh, yeah, like everyone always sticks to a schedule."

  I ignore her objections and grin. "Dylan and Logan, sitting in a tree," I sing, my voice low.

  She covers my mouth again, putting more force behind it this time. I can't help being excited. This is probably her first crush, and it's making me so excited. I wonder what he would think if he knew she's a girl. I wonder what she would even look like.

  "Sadie, I do not have a crush on Logan," Dylan whispers slowly, trying to get the message across.

  She is definitely in denial. But two can play at this stubbornness game. Since my speech ability is blocked, I have to bob my head up and down in rebuttal.

  Frustrated, Dylan sighs heavily. "Okay, what's it going to take for you to drop this?"

  A plan immediately begins to form in my head. I realize it's probably a bad idea to force Dylan to accept the fact that she's a girl, but if she's ever going to be truly okay with who she is, she needs a little encouragement.

  Dylan pulls her hand back when she feels my lips turning up into a smile. "Let me give you a makeover," I request as kindly as I can.

  She blinks, completely lost, "What?"

  "I just want to see what you look like in girl clothes," I use as an excuse.

  She glares at me in response. Seconds later, I realize what she must have thought I meant, so I raise my hands up and add, "Just clothes, I swear; no shaving or plucking or doing makeup or anything. I can use my imagination for that."

  "No," is her immediate response.

  I pout. "Why not?"

  She seems to be starting to lose patience, because she brings her hand to cover her face and puts two fingers on the bridge of her nose.

  "Sadie," she says calmly, "over a month ago, I got in trouble for wearing a bra in the house and taking a picture of it."

  I knew she was going to use this line of reasoning, and I know exactly how to counter it. "But your brothers are by now either gone to work or out with friends, and your parents have that brunch with mine in half an hour," I point out. "The house will be empty, and we can take precautions so that no one sees us from outside."

  That's when she starts to hesitate, and I take advantage of the opportunity.

  "Five minutes," I beg. "That's all I'm asking for; five minutes of you in clothes you were meant to wear, then I'll help you burn the evidence myself."

  There is a part of me that suspects Dylan is only suppressing who she is out of fear and habit, but that she actually longs for the freedom to be herself. I am giving her an opportunity to do that without getting caught or being in trouble with her parents for it.

  "Fine, but just five minutes, and we have to be sure no one can see or hear us," she finally agrees in a hushed tone.

  Beyond pleased, I squeal and throw my arms around her neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I chant. "Wait, you do have girl clothes, right?"

  Dylan considers this for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I have something that might work," she says.

  I can feel a nervous but suppressed excitement radiating off her, and I'm glad that I was right. She will thank me for this someday in the future.

  The time it takes us to walk to Dylan's place from the compound is enough for her family to have vacated the house. Dylan rushes us into her room, locks the front door, closes every window and curtain on the second floor and starts taking out the clothing items she must have been talking about.

  "Just remember that the shirt isn't mine, but the pants are, so there's no way they're going to match," she tells me.

  It's cute that she gets so self-conscious.

  "It's fine, Dyl, just put them on; I won't judge you on your wardrobe choice," I tease.

  Dylan may have let the fact that I saw her naked in the forest a couple weeks ago slide, and although I insist that event makes it okay for her to change in front of me, she is adamant that she won't strip for me or anyone ever again. I have to relent.

  She takes way longer than she should have in there, and I start to get restless after a while.

  "Come on! You've been in there for over twenty minutes!" I complain. "I'm beginning to think you drowned in the sink."

  Finally, after taking her sweet time, Dylan unlocks the door and steps out of the bathroom. She stands in front of me while I examine her appearance. She doesn't have her usual bandage wrappings on, so her feminine curves are obvious for anyone looking. The mismatched colors of her purple top and grey pants look oddly cute together.

  Her hair, which reaches just the middle of her forehead from the front and is only an inch and a half long, is a mess. A cute mess, but it's still in need of a comb. Her eyebrows, though separated, could use a bit of a touch-up. But regardless of all of that, she is still very pretty. I just wish she would see that herself.

  "Oh yeah, with a little work, definitely hot," I reaffirm my previous assessment.

  "Well too bad this is the best you're going to get," she replies sarcastically. "There's no way I'm ever going to have the luxury of doing more than that. Now are we done? Can I change back?"

  Pleased I finally got her around to doing this, I smile and nod. "Yes, you can change back now. Thank you."

  "You're welcome," she mutters and walks back to the bathroom.

  Just as she's about to close the door, I hear a rattling sound coming from downstairs. Dylan and I exchange a look, realizing at the same time what the sound is; keys going into the lock. I am suddenly very frightened and very annoyed at myself. But I'm not nearly as scared as Dylan, who rushes into the bathroom and locks its door.

  Chapter 25

  Michael

  Ever been in a situation where you were doing something you know you're not supposed to and suddenly you hear someone coming, so you scramble to hide the evidence and look as natural as possible? Well, I find myself in that very situation when I hear the front door open downstairs.

  I frantically take the girly shirt off and throw it in the laundry basket, while Sadie paces and hovers around in my room, trying to figure out how she could help.

  There's not enough time to wrap the bandages perfectly around my torso, and the end result comes out too disordered. I throw the baggiest hoodie I can find over my head in the hopes that it will hide the mess.

  "What do we do?" Sadie hisses at me as I hear footsteps g
oing up the stairs.

  Panicked myself, I make gestures for her to stop talking and motion to the bathroom. She's not happy about me trying to hide her, and she shakes her head in refusal. I don't get a chance to argue back because my bedroom door comes flying open and we both jump at the same time.

  I don't know which member of my family I expected it to be, but I'm shocked when I find all six of them standing there. My brothers have somber expressions on their face, but I can see traces of sympathy in there for me, too. Mom looks stern and my father's face is completely unreadable. When they see Sadie in the room with me, they all seem shocked. Dad is the first to talk.

  "Sadie," he says with a tone of surprise. "I would have expected to find you at brunch with your family."

  "Uh, no sir, Dylan and I were... um, hanging out," she replies nervously.

  He glances at me. "Yes, I can see that," he coldly answers. "Mason, would you mind driving Sadie back to the compound? There's something we need to discuss with Michael."

  Uh oh, I think with dread. Does he know that she knows?

  It becomes apparent that he does when, after Sadie and Mason leave, he takes two steps in my direction and yanks at something sticking out of my hoodie, which turns out to be a piece of my bandage. In one rough movement, he's removed it entirely, making a burning feeling spread through me as he rips the fabric too fast and holds it up in front of my face like a piece of trash.

  "What are you thinking?" he hisses.

  Let me be clear on something first; I am not a goodie-two-shoes when it comes to my parents. I listen to them because I know there's a purpose behind each rule they set out for me and my brothers, and that is, ultimately, to keep me safe. But when I saw a way to be myself that doesn't put me at risk, like with Sadie's proposition, I took it. Their appearance right now is a complete shock, and there's no way I could have predicted it.

  It's amazing, though, how my dad can make me feel like a child again with one simple look. "She could have seen that. Do you know how easy it would have been for her to know you're hiding something if she did?"

  Surprise colors my face; so he doesn't know? But then why was he so mad when he came into my room?