“Avery?”
She gasped and startled hard. She hadn’t even heard Weston approach through the spattering of raindrops on leaves. “Don’t look at me!”
She had heightened night vision, and right now, Weston’s eyes were green like forest moss. Concern flitted across his face. Instead of turning away, he pulled her up out of the mud and asked, “Did you already Change, darlin’?”
She was shaking now, from cold, adrenaline, and something more. Darlin’? She liked the way that word rolled off his tongue. Weston’s gaze was locked on hers, and for the first time since she’d come here, they weren’t full of hatred. Her white cotton sundress was mud-splattered but draped over his arm, and without a word, he knelt down and held her panties out, waiting for her to step into them.
Mortified, she dipped her feet into them quickly, but he was slow and methodical as he gently pulled them up her legs, the knuckles of his thumbs brushing her bare thighs. When he stood, his attention dipped to her breasts and held there for a few seconds before he forced his darkening eyes back to hers and rushed to pull her dress over her head. Slowly, he spun her and zipped the back, dragging his fingertip up her spine as he went, sending a delicious shiver up her body.
He released her too soon, and she stumbled forward slightly without his strong hands on her. Not ready to face the mess that was her car, Avery sank back down to the forest floor and rested her back against the rough bark of a tree. “How did you find me?” She wasn’t exactly right off the road. She’d run for a while to get here.
“Uuuh,” Weston drawled, taking a seat next to her—right next to her! “My dad was a tracker.”
“Beaston?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah.”
“He terrifies me.”
“You’ve never met him.”
“He terrifies all ravens.”
“Yeah, well he terrifies most predator shifters, too,” Weston said with a soft chuckle. “Not me, though. He was just Da to me. He taught me to track. And not only through woods. I can find people who don’t want to be found.”
“You should’ve been a private investigator.”
“Tracking down cheating housewives doesn’t exactly call to me,” he said grimly.
“Right.” Avery’s voice was hitching with those uncontrollable breaths that came after a good cry.
“I have to ask you something,” Weston said low. “I’ll only ask this one time, and whatever you tell me, I’ll try my best to understand. Please, just…tell me the truth.”
“How could I tell you anything else? You can hear lies.”
Weston smiled sadly at her in the dim light. “Did you know?”
Avery’s breath hitched again on the inhale. “Did I know what?”
“Did you know the council was using you to get to me?”
Avery searched his face to make sure he was being serious, but the hardness was back in his eyes. “Why would the council try to get to you?”
“Avery, I know. I know everything. I know about why you were born.”
“Why I was…? Weston, tell me what you’re talking about.”
“The council encouraged your mom to get pregnant when my mom was. They were friends, and the council wanted you to lure me to Raven’s Hollow. Did you know about that?”
“No,” she whispered, horrified.
“Did you know the council was reading the letters I sent you?”
Avery shook her head slowly. This wasn’t real. “Of course not. I hid them behind a loose brick in the fireplace in my room. Those were my letters, not for anyone else. I even brought them here with me so that no one would ever find them.”
Weston’s chest was heaving now with every inhale. “Avery, yes or no. I can’t… Did you know you were bait for me? Please.”
“No! No, no, no,” she murmured, her face crumpling. Was the moisture on her cheeks rain or tears? She didn’t know, nor did she care. He was being mean again. The council had nothing to do with her feelings for Weston. Nothing at all. She was born to bait him? Avery covered her face with her hands to hide from him because now she knew why he was staring at her. He was trying to gauge if she was putting on a show, and she hated this. She wanted to tell him to fuck off again. She wanted to spit in his face or maybe slap him with her fingers clawed.
But something horrifying was happening in her chest right now. Such a sick feeling of rightness slid over her as she really considered what he’d just said.
Did her mother have her to be a lure for Weston? Was that the reason for her existence? Her father hadn’t ever given a single, solitary shit about her, especially when her broken raven had got him stripped of his rank. But mom was different. She loved her. She had her because she wanted a baby to care for…right?
“Can I borrow your phone?” she asked, her voice trembling like the raindrop-battered leaves around them.
Without a word, Weston pulled his phone out of his back pocket and laid it in her outstretched palm. She dialed home from memory and waited the three rings it took Mom to pick up.
“Hello?” It was hard to hear because there was so much talking in the background—men’s murmured voices.
“Mom, it’s me.”
Immediately, Mom’s voice dipped to a whisper. “Avery, this isn’t a good time.”
“Is the council at your house?”
“What?” A beat of silence, then, “How did you know? Are you back in The Hollow?” Mom was probably at the window, peeking through the blinds.