“What do you want?” Weston gritted out.
“Barbecue and dick kisses,” Ryder said without missing a beat.
“I don’t mean what do you want out of life, Ryder,” Weston said in a pissed-off tone. “I mean, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, right.” The redheaded muscle-bound behemoth held up a stack of paperwork. “We’ve got trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
Ryder cast Avery a calculating look, then twitched his head to Weston, gesturing for him to follow, and disappeared out into the main room.
“I’ll be right back,” Weston muttered as he passed. Great googly moogly, that man was tall. And his shoulders were almost the width of the dang door. He could squish her head like a blueberry if he wanted to. The Novak Raven? Hell. No. “Take your time.” While I climb out the window.
But when Avery tried the only escape, it was jammed.
She grunted and pushed and grunted some more. Holy hell, this thing wasn’t moving.
“You know you have to unlock it, right?” Weston said from behind her.
Avery froze, and as seconds ticked on, she couldn’t muster the courage to turn and face him.
“I can still see you.”
Heart banging against her chest, Avery rolled sideways until her back pressed against the log wall. “Hi.”
Weston’s dark eyebrows arched up, and he gave her tight smile. “Hi.” Gesturing to a chair in front of the desk, he said, “Have a seat so we can get this weird-ass interview over with.”
Quiet as a mouse, Avery forced her feet one in front of the other until she reached the chair, bumped it back a couple feet with the backs of her knees, and sat gingerly on the edge, ready to bolt. Why? Because the Novak Raven was the son of Beaston, raised in the most violent crew of shifters that existed, the Gray Backs. And she’d heard whispers of the battles he’d seen. The battles he’d been in. Just recently, he’d been a part of evicting an entire coven of vampires from Asheville, and the Valdoro Pack of psychotic werewolves, too, but from here, she saw zero scars, which meant he was scarier than the other monsters. It meant he was better at war.
The council was wary of him for good reason.
The man took a long swig of his beer, condensation dripping from the bottle and onto the desk. While he chugged it, he watched her over the curve of the bottle, and when he’d finished every last drop, he hissed like his beer had hit the spot. Gross. Beer tasted like piss. “I’m Weston Novak, and that was my partner, Ryder Croy.”
“Air Ryder,” she blurted unhelpfully. “And you’re the Novak Raven.”
“Yes, okay. So you know of us. Great. Anyway, we’re starting up this business and already booking clients. We’re hiring a scheduling manager because we will be out a lot on tours.” He gestured to a phone on the edge of the desk. “Job responsibilities will include answering the phone, keeping track of tours and deposits, running the shop when we’re out, making sales, helping to fit clients with gear, making sure the vending machines are stocked, running the cash register for the souvenir area, and sometimes closing up shop.”
Avery couldn’t meet his eyes anymore. The Novak Raven was terrifying, and his voice was steely, but that wasn’t the current problem. The issue was he was very attractive and making her forget how dangerous he was by talking like a normal man and not a War Bird in disguise. She had to force her next question past her tightening vocal chords. “Will I ever do an ATV Tour?”
Weston snorted. “Have you ever been on an ATV?”
He was laughing at her, making fun of her, and she didn’t like that. She wasn’t in the raven community anymore where she had to absorb rudeness. “No, but I would like to. I’m a quick learner.”
When she cast her glance at him, she got trapped there. His head was cocked, his eyes gone dark and tight in the corners. His lips were set in a grim line, and he was leaning on the desk, his hands clasped in front of him. “What’s your name? Your real name?”
A whimper wrenched up her throat. This was it. She couldn’t lie with him so tuned to her. He would hear it. But her name was unique, and he would definitely recognize her as his pen pal. They’d written back and forth for years. She was so busted.
“Avery,” she admitted in a murmur.
Something flashed through his eyes so quickly she couldn’t decipher his reaction. It was there and gone in an instant, and his following words were so cool, so steady, her heart sank even further.
“Are you scared of me, Avery?”
He didn’t recognize her. Not at all. Not her face, not her name. Perhaps she hadn’t really been pen pals with him. Perhaps it had been some sick joke, and she’d written to someone pretending to be him. That would explain why he’d been so cold the one time they had met in Saratoga.
Her eyes prickled with tears, which was stupid. Weston didn’t know it, but he’d ruined her life. He’d made her want too much, made her reach too far for things she could never have. He’d made her feel too much. She was a female raven who had grown a bond with a man who didn’t exist. A one-sided bond that had made her avoid boyfriends and courtships until Benjamin and the council had drawn up a marriage contract. Until Benjamin got tired of her brushing him off.
With every childhood letter from the Novak Raven, she’d grown further away from her own people and what was expected of her.
His fault, and now he didn’t even recognize her.