Chapter Five
Finn had made a mess of the whole situation and he only had himself to blame.
He stalked out to his car, packing the carton of cigarettes against his palm. Navi had already headed out to return to her hotel. Within seconds, he was sucking in a drag and leaning against his Challenger. Raven would be joining him out here in minutes. That meant the time had come for the confrontation he had been avoiding ever since Navi had crashed into town and he’d found himself just shy of fixated.
He loosed a stream of smoke, the flood of nicotine failing to curb the panic that threatened to descend. Sure, he should’ve stopped hooking up with Raven from the moment he knew there wasn’t a future there. Thing was, though, they were part of a small pack, and he’d played the field during his youth. He knew what else lay out there—no one for him. And every time he thought about severing their entanglement, of being alone, that dizzying emptiness returned.
He’d never been able to shake the memories of pacing through the shoebox-sized motel rooms in the area, the ones his folks locked him in when they went on their meth runs for that lowlife Ace. Ever since those days, claustrophobia gripped him in an ugly way. The mildew scent had invaded his nostrils, the crunch of the crusted carpet beneath his feet. His wolf had raged inside his chest until he shifted, scratching at the walls with claws, hurling himself at the door until he broke out of yet another room to run free. Only to head out on the run with them again and again, rinse and repeat. He’d already been isolated from his pack—he couldn’t lose his parents too.
Until he did.
Until he walked into one of the hotel rooms to find them cold and turning a pale blue on the floor, courtesy of Ace and his crew. Those were the very bastards who’d roped them into that business in the first place and the ones Finn swore he would someday tear apart with his own claws.
He let out another stream of smoke, ash tumbling off the end of his cigarette. Down that path lay memories he’d rather forget, of a time and place he’d shut away a long time ago.
Raven emerged from around the back of Beaver Tavern, her steps measured with the agility of a wolf. She didn’t have the slink to her step Navi did, the fluidity that mesmerized Finn, but, like any predatory shifter, she could approach quietly. She’d undone her thick black hair from the bun she kept it coiled in behind the bar and her hands balled into fists, as if she summoned her own determination. He’d seen the hurt sparking her dark eyes in the tavern. Finn felt like shit. That was the exact outcome he’d been looking to avoid. Like he could.
To make matters worse, Navi had iced over, the growing connection with her severed.
Finn finished his cigarette and ground it under his heel when she approached. “Why don’t we talk in private?” He cast a glance to the open windows of Beaver Tavern. As much as the pack liked sticking their noses in his business, the conversation between him and Raven was none of theirs.
“Let’s head to our old spot,” Raven said, her eyes flashing the silver of her wolf. “I’ll race you there.”
His heart squeezed at the thought of the spot they’d met at through their teenage years, through fumbling makeouts to escapes when the old alpha would jaw off too much over their obligations or one of them picked a fight for the thousandth time. The pack elders had run bets on who’d survive through to adulthood between him, Raven and Jer. The three of them had broken the rules and pulled the sort of risky shit in their youth that skated the line of stupid.
“All right,” he said, cracking his knuckles in front of him. He could use the run right now. He stripped off his shirt and his jeans dropped to the ground seconds later as his skin prickled with the beginnings of his change. Raven folded her black tank top and skirt from work and placed them on the ground, the gorgeous woman’s nudity nothing new for him. He’d seen and tasted every square inch of her body.
Finn’s claws emerged, the fur overtook his skin and his bones morphed as he shifted for the second time that day. His wolf stretched out with pleasure at the opportunity to run free. In this form, his world enhanced in every feasible way. His senses intensified the trill of the birds through the trees, the zoom of distant cars approaching down the highway and the whistle and creak of the branches from the gusts of wind.
Raven shifted into her sleek form, slightly smaller than his, with a dark, almost black coat apart from a couple of streaks of gray. She tilted her head in his direction, her eyes flashed silver and she bolted into the forest.
Finn dove in after her, the leaves compressing beneath his paws, the wind whistling through his fur and pebbles spraying out of his way. The midday sun gleamed through the thick forest, creating a dappled display of light on the woodland ground. Even with the scent of thick moss, of the earth that tingled his nose and the way nature tamed his beast, he couldn’t halt the turmoil in his head.
Not like his wolf agreed. The beast in him viewed things in black and white and from the beginning when he’d first flirted around with Raven, he hadn’t felt more in his chest than a fierce friendship. He loved her—he always would—but her similar nature had provided a comfort, a mutual sharing of the shit paths their lives had taken them. And they’d remained in a toxic cycle for so, so long, clinging to each other for dear life.
The intense way his wolf blinked to awareness when Navi entered a room was the sheer opposite, the take-notice chemistry that gripped him by the throat. And the sort that made it all too clear he and Raven had been wasting their time together for far longer than they should’ve.
He slowed the moment he caught the flash of the old wooden picnic table in their clearing. Raven switched to a trot, not serious about the race. In fact, she didn’t look excited about the talk they would be having either, as if they both sensed the impending storm on their horizon. Finn sniffed the ground when he came closer, the scents of Jer, Raven and countless other pack members from his generation mingling here.
Finn came to a halt in front of the varnished trunk which sat beside the old picnic table and the hewn stumps everyone used as seats. Even though he hadn’t been here in a long while, the site got use, evident by the scorched earth from their campfires and the emptied bottles of whiskey. He shifted back, almost shaking out of his fur as he stood up to two feet. The claws retracted, morphing back to nails.
“You think the clothes we stashed are still around here?” Finn asked, rummaging around in the trunk, which had gotten chewed into by squirrels. He brushed over balls of crumpled-up clothing they’d stored here, but with the damage and weathering, they were the crunchy sort of musty he wasn’t keen on throwing on.
“Depends on where this conversation is heading,” Raven said from behind him, her thigh brushing against his side when she crouched beside him. The plum and clear-water scent of her was so familiar, so safe, and he didn’t miss the suggestive note in her voice. Because like her, a part of him prepared to submit to their usual modus operandi.
He tossed on the shirt, wrinkling his nose as the starchy fabric settled over his skin, dust and grit cascading from it. Raven snatched another old pair of spares from the trunk while he pulled on the shorts. Tension brimmed from her in spades and that storm-cloud wouldn’t be retreating any time soon.
However, if he wanted to break this chain, he needed to begin now. His stomach tightened as he settled onto one side of the picnic table, leaning on the splintered surface.
“Look, I know we talk about anything but us,” he started, flexing his fingers in front of them, since he suddenly found his nails fascinating. “We need to, though.”
Raven took a seat on the opposite side of the picnic bench, her quietness unsettling. Not like he expected her to be chatty—the woman hated idle small talk—but this was a loaded silence. The nearby stream murmured in the background, the sound growing louder in this absence of communication between them. Finn’s skin itched and he shifted in his seat. If she didn’t say something soon, he would have to plow right through the silence.
“I know we never discussed being exclusive,” she said, her voice hesitant. The hurt there broke him. He wanted her mad, wanted her claws out and her eyes flashing pissed—that he could work with. Raven contained more strength than these weak displays, than bending when she should be standing strong. Hell, he put on just as bad a front. He had no problem barreling into danger or going head to head with his alpha, yet this relationship broke him every time, like he was nine years old again and stepping into the room reeking of death and decay. Like if he didn’t grip on to whatever lifeline he could, he’d end up in a motel room, alone.
“Your scent was all over her,” Raven murmured.
“She put on one of my shirts,” he argued, even though he knew what she meant. “We shifted earlier and her clothes got left behind.” Except even with all the time he and Raven spent together, the hundreds of times they’d hooked up, his scent had never imprinted on her. That was reserved for true connections and he’d be an idiot to deny what bloomed between him and Navi.
“You know she can’t stay,” Raven warned as she clutched tight to the park bench beneath her. “She’s Tribe, so once her business ends here, she’ll be leaving and it’s not like you can go with her.”
His throat tightened. He and Navi had never discussed a future, never contemplated anything beyond a one-night stand. Because deep down, they knew that was all they could ever have. She was Tribe and he was Red Rock’s beta. They had found their roles, and those were cemented into place.
Except her arrival shifted his views, opening his mind. He’d been so focused on the past that he’d clung to the relationship with Raven, which wasn’t helping either of them. He opened his mouth, knowing what he needed to say and what he needed to do, but the words stuck like glue.
Raven’s brows furrowed, as if she could see the inevitability on his face. “Take the time you need to with her,” she said. Her lips formed a thin line afterward and the unhappiness was broadcast clear on her face, in her voice. “You know I’ll always be around.”
Finn’s gut twisted at how she cared so little about herself. He leaned forward, tilting her chin until their eyes met. “You’re worth more than this, Rae. We’re using each other as safety nets at this point and it’s not helping either of us.”
Her lower lip trembled. “I’m not sure I could survive without this.”
Fuck. With the hellish shit she’d been through when she ran away from the pack, he knew what demons she fought every day. He was one of the only people on this planet who did. The weight of that burden settled on his shoulders every time he considered walking away, every time he prepared to break off their complicated relationship. Because at the end of the day, he would never be in love with her and she would always be in love with him.
“Enjoy your time with her while you’ve got it,” Raven said, running a hand through her thick black hair. Even in the crusted tee she wore, three sizes too big, the woman had a sloping, delicate beauty, from her oval face to her small, slender nose. “Just don’t cut me out.”
He clenched his jaw, hissing out a sigh. “Even if I had someone else in my life, our friendship doesn’t have to die.” She met his eyes with a knowing that twisted his gut. They both knew he spewed utter bullshit. With their history and the depth of Raven’s feelings, an ordinary friendship would never be on the table—not for them.
“Just…take your time with her,” Raven repeated, the hoarse scrape of her voice revealing the pain. No version of this situation would make her happy, unless he swore his undying commitment to her. That would never happen, and they both knew the truth. He had tried to be clear with her on how far his feelings extended, and she’d begged him to stay anyway.
The longer he stayed here, the more he’d be tempted to fall into the patterns of the past. Finn leaned forward and mussed her hair, causing her to wrinkle her nose. “Raven, I just want to see you happy,” he said before tugging the crusty shirt off and tossing it into the trunk. “I’ve got a stakeout to attend, but I want you to think on that—what your happiness is separate from me.”
He didn’t look back to witness the disappointment on her face as yet again he failed her. He ditched the shorts and shifted into his wolf form before taking off into the deep forest, heading toward Beaver Tavern.
* * * *
Finn had barely returned to his car when his phone started buzzing. By the time he jumped into the driver’s seat, the ringing had already stopped, adding to the other five missed calls from Navi. Several texts crowded his inbox too, so he settled into the seat and scrolled through the first one. All the text said was Meet me at the general store. Now.
He jammed his keys into the ignition and tore down the highway, unable to quell the nerves rushing through him. The way Navi threw herself into danger triggered every protective instinct in him, even though she was Tribe, capable and a hell of a lot stronger than him. He pressed harder on the gas pedal, sending his girl rocketing faster, farther. Navi wasn’t the sort for dramatics—in fact, she leaned toward the extreme opposite—so if she contacted him, trouble was a guarantee.
The setting sun sprawled out across the horizon, those amber, rose-gold and ruby streaks painting the skyline in front of him. This day had passed by in a whirlwind of problems and he’d raced through it from beginning to end. Yet, despite the confrontation with Raven not having been the firm step he needed to make and the way the clash with Navi at the bar had twisted up his insides, Finn felt a distinct change. The restlessness, the itch under his skin that had begun to grip him on a daily basis had vanished.
Since he’d been working alongside Navi, purpose had seized him by the throat and hadn’t let go. He’d been searching for that ever since he’d become beta of the Red Rocks.
All too soon, the stretch of buildings of the next town cropped into view. Finn had barely entered when he spotted the problem. When the wail of sirens filtered in through his open windows.
The general store was going up in flames.