18. Ash
ASH
An almost fatal attack, kidnapping, fight rings, soul bonds, and hunters.
Fuck me.
I said I wanted to know it all, but the truth is . . . Jesus Christ. It’s more than my mind can handle. I’m pretty sure that’s why I feel numb right now. I’m still sat with my back against the tree. Morgan sits opposite, keeping his distance.
We’ve been talking for almost two hours.
Well, Morgan’s been talking. I’ve been mostly staring at him wide-eyed with my mouth open.
“Say something.” He’s fully dressed now, looking like he always has. It’s almost impossible to picture him changing into a wolf.
But he did.
I didn’t imagine it.
“Ash?” His eyes are pleading for me to understand, to say that we’re good.
I tip my head back and look up at the sky through thick branches. It’s a startling blue today, with only a few clouds dotted about. Seems wrong that it’s such a perfect day, when everything I’ve ever known has just been turned upside down.
Rearranged.
Ruined.
Okay, maybe not the last one. But mine and Morgan’s relationship isn’t the same as it was this morning. I know that much. How can it be? “I’m not sure what to say.” I look back at him in time to see his face fall.
He nods. “Yeah. I imagine it’s not what you were expecting me to say.”
I laugh. “No. Not quite.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What for?” From what he’s said, none of what happened was his fault.
“For not telling you straight away. For letting you think I’d left when I was right here the whole time.”
Oh, that.
“I couldn’t tell you without putting you in danger. The FBs . . .” He shakes his head. “They’re not nice people, Ash.”
“Not people at all,” I mutter.
Morgan winces. “They said the FBs might try and finish the job if I went back to yours. In case I went to the police.”
“They?”
“Lynx, Callum, and the others.”
Callum.
My chest constricts and I rub a hand over it, but it doesn’t help. “Why have your club . . . pack—whatever—been watching me for the last couple of weeks? I didn’t know anything.”
“It’s—” He stops when I glare at him. “There’s something else I didn’t tell you.”
More?
“When my dad lost the house.” His breath hitches. “I left out a few details.”
I sit in stunned silence as he tells me about the torture and the threats.
This is Harlington, for fuck’s sake.
A medium-sized town in the Midlands.
Not . . . not . . . god, I can’t think of anywhere right now. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“They threatened him, Ash. Threatened me too. They already cut off his fingers, so I was inclined to take them seriously.”
“And the people in your old house now, are they . . . ?” I raise my eyebrows, hoping he’ll fill in the blanks.
“We think they’re ex-hunters, from Fox’s old group.”
“And I’m in danger, why?”
“Because of your association with me,” he says softly. “Birch is still out there somewhere, and he fucking hates the Wild Wolves. And we don’t know what the ex-hunters are up to. It was safer to just keep eyes on you.”
Fuck.
I’ve drawn the attention of shifters and angry ex-hunters because Morgan’s my best friend. There’s an easy solution to that. The thought slips into my head unbidden. I look at him, sat with his arms resting on his knees, watching me with a mix of hope and trepidation.
We used to laugh at the rumours about weird things in the woods. Speculate about what supernatural creatures lived outside of town. We were never serious, though.
I never thought I’d be sat here looking at one.
And that it would be Morgan.
It’s still surreal, but I can’t bring myself to end our friendship, even if everything he’s told me is terrifying. “What now?”
He grimaces and pulls out his phone. “I need to get back and tell Lynx how this went. He’s been texting me non-stop for the past ten minutes.”
“I should get home.” I need some space to regroup, to let all this madness sink in and see how I feel after.
“Yeah, okay.” He stands and brushes dirt off his jeans. “I’ll drive you.”
It’s an awkward, silent walk back to the main house. I can’t think of anything to say, and apparently Morgan is all talked out. He keeps about four feet between us, and I’m both grateful and sad. But I’m also nervous in his presence, where I have never ever been before.
It’s really fucking awful if I’m honest.
As we approach the house, Lynx and Callum are outside. I wonder if they’ve been there all this time.
I glance around, my skin prickling with that being-watched feeling. And it hits me then that I’m alone out here, surrounded by people who can shift into wild animals. People who don’t think twice about killing.
I need to leave.
“We’re leaving now, yeah?”
Morgan glances at me. “I just need a minute with Lynx.”
“To talk about me?”
He winces. “Sorry.”
I’m not surprised. I’m a liability now, aren’t I? An icy shiver runs down my spine as that sinks in. “Am I in danger from them?”
Both Callum and Lynx turn our way. Callum stands like he’s about to head towards us, and I come to an abrupt stop. It’s like they heard me. Even though we’re still a good thirty or forty feet away.
I haven’t asked Morgan much about being a shifter, too caught up on the fact that he was one. But maybe I should’ve. “Can they hear us?”
“Um . . .”
I whirl to face him. “They fucking can, can’t they?”
Morgan sighs, hand in his hair again, and I know. “Yeah. They can.”
My face flames as I think about everything I’ve said to Morgan when I thought it was only him listening.
Out of all the things he’s told me today, this is what tips me over the edge. “You never thought to warn me?”
“Ash, I couldn’t—”
“You didn’t even try! All the things I said about—” I wave my good hand about, too angry to get words out. “Everything,” I hiss. “They heard all of it.”
He has the good sense to look guilty, but I don’t care.
I look over at Callum, realising that he can hear me right now. Has heard me every time I spoke to Morgan about him.
And if one sense is heightened, stands to reason they all are. I think back over the last few weeks. Callum in my home, in my bedroom.
The way he used to breathe deep.
Fucking hell.
My flush deepens as I imagine exactly what he could smell in there.
And they all knew.
Every fucker but me.
So many emotions flood my body. Anger, embarrassment, betrayal. I feel sick.
I need to go.
Now.
“Give me my keys,” I say quietly, but there’s a cold edge to my voice that I don’t even recognise.
“You can’t drive.”
I hold out my hand. “Give me my fucking keys.”
“Your wrist—”
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, trying really hard not to lose the tenuous hold I have on my temper and say something there’s no coming back from. “If you value what’s left of our friendship, Mor, you’ll give me my keys.”
“Ash, please.”
I sense Callum before I see him.
“Give him the keys, Morgan.” His voice settles something inside me, or it would if I let it, but I shut that shit down tight.
I snap my eyes open to find him now stood beside Morgan.
I put my hand out again. Morgan sighs heavily but reluctantly drops the keys in my palm. My fingers curl around them in case he even thinks about snatching them back.
He looks at me with pleading eyes again. “Call me when you get home, yeah? Or text. I just want to know you got there in one piece.”
“You mean you’re not going to follow me?” I raise an eyebrow when neither of them answers.
“I’d like to,” Callum says. “Please.”
It’s the please that gets me. The way he says it and the look on his face. I give as much as I can. “Only if you stay out of sight. I don’t want to see you in my mirrors.”
Hurt flashes in his eyes, there and gone. “I can do that.”
“Ash . . .” Morgan reaches for me, then thinks better of it and drops his hand. “Are we gonna be okay?”
Are we?
“I hope so.” It’s the best I can manage right now. I don’t want to lose my best friend, but there’s so fucking much to wrap my head around. “I’m going to need a little time. And space,” I tell him.
He nods. “Yeah, anything you want.”
Callum’s still standing there, waiting, and Morgan looks between us, then sighs. He eyes my wrist. “Drive safe.”
“I’ll try.”
With one last look Callum’s way, he turns and heads over to Lynx. I know their hearing range now, so I stare at them, arms crossed, until they get the hint and go inside.
It’s just me and Callum.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” His eyes meet mine, dark and broody but honest.
I’m not sure it makes a difference. “You saw me at my most vulnerable and said nothing.”
“I wanted to.” His fingers twitch, like he wants to touch me, but thank fuck he doesn’t. I’m way too close to breaking for that. “It wasn’t only my secret I was keeping.”
I get that, I do, but I just . . . “I was inside you,” I whisper, heartbeat picking up speed as I play that memory again with new information.
The sounds he made, the scrape of teeth against my throat .
. . “I think I knew,” I whisper, taking a step back and shaking my head.
I need to distance myself because, even after everything, I’m still drawn to him.
“I knew there was something different about you, something other. But I ignored it. I needed you to be what you said you were. I needed someone to take my mind off the shit happening around me, someone to hold me together when I was falling apart.”
“Ash . . .”
I shake my head. “And you did.” To my horror, my eyes fill with tears, and I blink rapidly. I will not cry. “I really fucking liked you. More than anyone I’ve ever been involved with. I thought—” I thought we were different.
Special.
“Thought what?” His voice breaks, eyes begging me to understand, to forgive.
But I’m not sure I can.
I shake my head again because it doesn’t matter what I thought before.
“I trusted you.” And that’s what it comes down to.
I know I should be terrified, should be halfway back to town right now, running for my life.
I’m surrounded by people that aren’t human.
That still sounds surreal in my head. And I am scared.
Of course I am. My hands would shake if they weren’t clenched into fists.