Page 44 of Warlander Grizzly

It was a clear night, not a cloud in the sky. When she laid down, she was surprised by how comfortable it was. His covers smelled like him, and fabric softener. The pillow he propped under her cheek was so soft, and she allowed a smile as he settled next to her, linked his hands behind his head and stared up at the sky. His lips wore the remnants of a smile she didn’t understand.

“What?” she asked, curled on her side, looking at his handsome profile.

“I have Lucia Novak in my bed.”

She reached out of her blanket and shoved his shoulder. “You’re not going to ruin my reputation. I don’t sleep with losers.”

He chuckled and tucked her neatly back into her blanket. She liked that he wasn’t ripping the blanket off her naked body. He was being respectful and caring, and she had never expected to attribute those two words to any of Clinton’s sons, much less the wildest one. “You could fuck a loser though.”

“You wish.”

“I do,” he agreed. “It’ll come in time, spelled c-u-m.”

“Pervert.”

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, turning his face to her.

The smile faded from her face. “For what?”

“For the little raven.”

Lucia pursed her lips and curled her knees up to her chest. Her little raven had been just for her until now. “It was so early,” she said, throwing the hurt away.

“No.” He reached over and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Doesn’t matter. She was special. She was a part of you. It’s not the end of your story, you know? If you want to be a mom, you can.”

“Why would I want to be a mom?” she whispered.

He didn’t answer, only stared at her with soft eyes and waited.

“I would fall in love with that role and pour everything into growing them, and then when they got to my age, I would wait for their lives to be ruined by the sight.”

“It’s not ruined.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Weston’s good. He’s in Harper’s Mountains with Air Ryder and their mates, and he’s good. He’s okay. Your dad? He’s with your mom. He’s okay. If your sisters get the sight? They’re going to be okay. You’re okay.”

She let off a humorless laugh and looked up at the stars. “I don’t want it.”

“Your story is your story.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“You think Damon wanted to turn these mountains into his treasure and inherit all of us and feel that responsibility? You think he wanted his son, Vyr, to be a dragon? At war with himself always? You think any one of us would’ve signed up to put an animal inside of us if it was a choice between being a shifter, and just having one voice in our heads? Being a normal human? This life is fucking hard, Lucia. Going through it alone makes it feel impossible, but you know? That’s what Crews are made for. You got lucky enough to find one. Lean on them, same as Damon, same as Creed, and Harrison, and Tagan. Same as everyone here.”

“Except for you.”

He tossed a yell up into the sky. “Yes, Lucia, except for me.”

“Your emotional intelligence is surprising.”

He grew quiet and looked over at her. “Are you complimenting me?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe is not a ‘no.’”

She allowed a smile. “I also like the T-shirt you wore tonight.”