Chapter 11
The doorbell rang. Sighing, Savon dropped the paintbrush and hurried downstairs. Frannie stood on her porch with a smile and another lunch basket. “Forget about me?”
Savon blew a stray piece of hair out of her face and nodded inside. “Got distracted. Sorry. Come in.”
“Bad time?”
“Um…no?” Her face scrunched. “Maybe. It’s fine, though.”
“What’s going on?”
Savon looked around and sighed. “Nate’s been stalking my dreams for years. He’s my brother’s half-brother, which makes my brother only half. There’s some war going on between Nate and Jay, but Nate doesn’t want to lead the pack, so why stand in Jay’s way? What the fuck did I walk in on when I moved back? I thought I was slipping away to have some normalcy for a bit, and I’m right in the middle of chaos—as fucking usual.”
Frannie walked past her and placed the basket on the counter. “All right. At least Nate told you, finally.”
“That damned prick and my asshole brother kept it from me. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so damned bad if someone told me something back when he woke up from the coma.”
“You know that Nate is still in love with you, don’t you?”
“Please don’t, Fran. I can’t go there right now. He doesn’t have a damned clue what I’ve been through. He doesn’t know what I lost when he disappeared.”
Pain washed over her, through her. Savon sank onto a chair and closed her eyes, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. “Fuck, I don’t want to feel anymore.” Pushing away the pain was so much safer than giving in to it.
“What did you lose?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Savon shot to her feet and hurried up the stairs, running from memories best left buried.
Frannie followed. “Are you okay, Savon?”
“No. I feel like I’m in a game of tug-a-war. I don’t want to be the rope. I don’t know what they want, but I’m not giving it to either.”
Frannie shook her head, taking Savon’s hands. “Nate doesn’t want to use you. But he does need you to find the confidence to do what’s right.”
“He’s kept too many secrets for too damned long. At least Jay is willing to answer my questions. But right now, I wish I had never moved back. I never would have if Nikolai hadn’t dragged me into a mess I wanted no part of.”
“Nikolai?”
“Shit, forget about him. He’s not important.” Only he was. Savon thought she killed her most recent ex, but she didn’t stick around to make sure. She knew the asshole was a mercenary, but she never imagined he was part of the Dark Templar, or after something to help the Burning Dawn. A ritual to rip this world apart and bring another one into existence.
Savon stepped past Frannie and opened the door to her old bedroom. It had become her studio. There were paintings stacked against the walls, hung, and in the closet. There were some in Bran’s old room and in the guest room. And even more in storage back in San Francisco.
“You wanted to see?” Savon redirected, hoping to kill any conversation about Nate or warnings about Jay, and especially anything to do with her most current mistake. Men, the root of all her problems.
Frannie’s jaw dropped as she moved forward to a painting Savon meant to burn, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. It was the reminder that she had everything she wanted and it was shattered before it had a chance.
Rubbing her round belly, Frannie sank to her knees as she stared at the painting of a chubby baby snuggled next to a woman asleep on her side. Her hair lay across her face so the viewer couldn’t tell it was Savon.
“It’s beautiful,” Frannie whispered.
“It’s yours,” Savon answered immediately, blinking back tears. She couldn’t stand the vision of all she wanted after her little girl died.
Emotions rolled through her. Turning, Savon silently fled to the kitchen where she climbed onto a stool and stared out the window. She needed to forget that desperate, lovesick girl she’d once been.
Maybe the answers her parents left weren’t worth the heartache. She should have said to hell with it all and moved farther away. Another country, across the sea, where memories couldn’t push her back into that dark hole she crawled out of when she lost the baby.
Savon dropped her head onto her arms and inhaled slowly before pushing the air out of her lungs.
“What inspired that painting, Savon?”
Sitting up, she turned to face Frannie. “Don’t remember.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Hurts too bad to go there. Please, take the painting. You’re doing me a favor.”
“You can talk to me,” Frannie urged.
“Don’t want to tap into that place. Please. Help me keep it buried by taking the painting.”
Her brow pinched. “And if you change your mind?”
“I won’t. I can always paint a new one. And now, it’s just a reminder I wish I could forget.”
“If you ever want it back, tell me.”
“No, I think it fits you better. Please, take it. Give it a good home where it belongs. Because it never belonged with me.”
Frannie wrapped her arms around her, and Savon hugged her back. “I wish I knew how to reach you,” Frannie whispered.
“I was never very chatty when it came to my problems. You know that.”
“Yeah, but I’ll always be here for you, Sav.”
“Thanks. Look, I need to be somewhere. I should change and get going. You’re welcome to look some more.”
“You coming back?” Frannie asked.
She nodded. “At least for a little while.”
“I saw the bag you packed.”
“I need to sort my head, and that’s not happening here. I need a couple days without the bullshit. Okay?”
“You have my number, right?”
“I do. But you’re part of all of this. Right now, I need outside perspective. I’ll be back. I promise.”
“Better be.” Frannie picked up the painting and frowned. “You’re sure about me taking this? It’s beautiful and I can feel the emotion behind it.”
“Very. I can’t stand looking at it.” Savon offered a smile.
“All right. I’ll see you soon.” She slipped through the door.
Savon smiled at the basket and grabbed it, hurrying to catch Frannie. “Wait, you left this.”
She shook her head. “Keep it. Maybe it will help on your trip.”
“Thanks.”
Frannie dipped her head. “I hope you remember there are people in this town who love you and want you whole. We miss you.”
Her? Or who she used to be? Because she wasn’t that girl anymore. A stranger moved back.
* * * *
Her jeep was gone. Nate knew she was pissed. Savon had every right to be. Shit, there had to be a better way to tell her, but she was stubborn to her core.
Bran burst through the door. “What the fuck did you do to piss her off so damned bad?”
“Told her the damned truth—like Frannie convinced me to do. And now, she’s running.”
“You know who she was with this morning?”
“Jay?” Nate bit out.
“Yeah, wrapped around him on his death rocket. I wanted to strangle her so bad I didn’t even write the asshole a ticket for going sixty in a forty.”
“She has to come to her own conclusion about Jay and about me. I fucked up a hundred ways. You’re right. I should have gone to her. Look, maybe it’s too late for us.”
“You’re a fucking moron. It’s time for you to make her listen.”
“Did that this fucking morning. Blew up in my face. Now I’m trying to figure out my next move.”
A laugh escaped Bran as he walked to the kitchen. “You haven’t given up yet?”
“Would you stop? You’re her brother. You could have told her that you share my father, not hers. Could have mentioned that Dad forbade me to go to her.”
“Neither of you were in the same city. If you had gone to her early, she would have listened to you. No one else. And the reason she’s pissed as hell is because she isn’t over you.”
“Have any idea where she went?”
Bran grabbed a couple beers from the fridge and walked back. “North. That’s it. But I don’t know what friends she kept in San Francisco. She doesn’t talk about it. I know next to nothing about her life after she left.” He handed Nate one.
“Have any advice?” Nate set the bottle on the end table and dropped back, rubbing his face. “Why the hell am I asking you?”
“You know I have your back. Besides, she promised Frannie she’d be back. And she says you should look at the painting she gave her. Something familiar about it.” Bran tipped his head and glanced away. “There’s more I think you should see.”
Before Nate could think to say anything, Bran placed his beer on the table and started out the door, on his way to Savon’s.
Nate caught up at the porch. “We shouldn’t.”
“I have the key. And we aren’t taking anything, but you need to see this.”
Bran rushed across the yards and into the house, taking the stairs two at a time. In his old room, he went straight for the closet. “Check that out and tell me what you see.”
The paintings were behind a door, out of sight. Every one of them were of him in brilliant colors with such agony in his eyes he felt the pain. He was always reaching for her. She locked him away.
“So what? I have a dozen of these same paintings.”
“She loves you, Nate. She never stopped. You have to get her to forgive you.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“She will. She can’t run forever.”
Nate wasn’t so sure about that. He walked out of the house and went home.
* * * *
Jay stepped into his den. Six wolves sat around the living room, waiting.
Clay stood up. “She’s with them,” he growled. “We need her out of the way. Canagan provided you the perfect means to destroy the hot piece of ass after having some fun, and you killed the two wolves who helped her.”
Jay stalked toward Clay, grabbed him by the shirt, and lifted him to his feet. “Want to suffer the same fate as Cole and Nolan?”
He shook his head. “Feelings for the troublemaker?” Clay challenged. “You realize the draw to her has everything to do with her Sylvan nature. Just like her cunt of a mother. Why do you think Killian couldn’t resist Fawn’s charm?”
Jay snorted. “He resisted Canagan just fine.”
Clay shook his head, an evil glint to his gunmetal gray eyes. “You clearly don’t know how she got her start. Canagan was purely Sylvan when Killian got his hands on her. She was still a girl. He wanted her. She resisted. She called wolves to her when he tore her dress away. He shifted to his half-beast form and nearly tore her in half when he took her against her will. He sliced into her with teeth, with claws and nearly broke her body in the process, but he changed her. She bound him to her. She can’t kill him without dying herself, and vice versa. Which is why she wanted you to kill him for her.”
“Do you honestly trust a woman who can control you?” Jay snarled at Clay.
“Not much choice in the matter now, is there? And you’re doing the same with Savon,” he challenged, his eyes burning bright.
“Stay out of my business. I will have Savon. She will choose me.”
He snorted. “You can’t trust Savon. Nate nearly nailed her on her front door her first night back.”
Jay shook his head. “He wants her, but he broke her trust. She’s not going back to him. I know what she wants.”
Canagan stepped into the room. “Doubtful. Some women may like a man to take control and tell them what they want, but she knows her will. She’s not a submissive wolf. She is fierce and has many allies, all of whom you should be focused on breaking.”
And what if the real enemy all along was Canagan? Yes, Killian needed to be put down, but Canagan pulled too many strings in the pack.
He pushed away the anger and faced Canagan. “What are you suggesting?”
“If you can claim her, do it fast, but don’t expect her to roll over. And trust me, don’t force yourself on her. She won’t have a problem destroying you. She nearly killed her last lover for trying to force her into a position she refused to be in. And if you aren’t careful, she’ll take Nate back. He’s patient and he’s willing to fight for her.”
So far, he hadn’t seen that. Nate continued to pussy-foot around. “I’m not worried about her running to Nate. I’ve gained her trust. But you need to stay out of it, unless you want Nate to come after you when you kill the woman who rules his heart.”
“Then deal with her. But tread carefully. Savon isn’t what you think.”
Jay snorted. “She’s part sorceress, part Sylvan. Means her magic is diluted.”
Shaking her head, Canagan smirked. “Oh no, in some cases a hybrid’s magic is enhanced. She’s one of those. And I watched her with you. She’s smart and knows how to dig for information. You’re as much a game to her as she’s a pawn on your board with Nate.”
Clay leaned forward. “She’s right. That spell Savon slung at me hurt. Badly. She may be playing you.”
“She’s not on anyone’s side yet,” Jay countered. “That’s why I need to have her on mine.”
Tommy spoke up, “Tell us what you need. We’ll do what we can.”
“Good luck planning,” Canagan added. “You’ll have some time. She fled Silvertail Ridge for the moment.”
“She left?” Jay asked.
“She’ll be back. And I believe I can help her find what she’s searching for. If she’ll trust me. Then, perhaps, you’ll have your chance with her.” Canagan walked out the back door.
Jay glared after her.
Clay cleared his throat. “She wants to see the pack take a better direction than Killian’s.”
Not a chance. She just wanted to run it. Jay turned to Clay. “Stay away from Savon, or I’ll destroy you.”
“Even if she chooses Nate?”
“She won’t,” Jay promised. He felt the connection. Even if she wasn’t ready, it was there.