Chapter 13
Maverick
Maverick paced the length of the penthouse balcony, the city lights below doing nothing to illuminate the darkness shrouding his search. It’d been a week. A week and still another dead end. Gareth’s trail had gone cold, and Maverick’s frustration simmered.
He winced as the bruise in his chest still throbbed where Zera had stabbed him with the Whisper’s staff, a reminder of how truly stupid he’d been in giving it to her.
But he had to know, to test whether the pixie wielded the weapon or the weapon wielded the pixie.
From Zera’s terrified and shocked reaction, he’d gotten his answer.
It didn’t change things. The pixie warrior who’d tricked him had still stripped him of his fertility and nearly killed him.
If he hadn’t taken the pixie out, using all of his strength and stealing the staff in the process, he might not be alive.
But Zera wouldn’t understand that even if he tried to explain it.
She would only hear that he’d taken a pixie life, and then she would leave, going back to Pixie Hollow to hide, and Gareth would be sure to find her.
She would be dead before she could even understand the truth.
Maverick clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He couldn’t let that happen.
His gaze kept flitting up to the north-facing window of the bedroom he’d dreamed they’d shared last night.
She’d whispered about no more distance, and their bond had ignited in a passionate embrace.
He hardened at the mere memory of the dream, and he wished it’d been real.
The taste of her sugar and lilac skin still lingered on his tongue, as if it’d been more than a dream.
Maverick’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sliding door opening behind him.
He turned as Zera stepped out in a warm purple sweater that made her lavender eyes pop.
His heart stuttered at the sight of the fitted leathers she’d paired the sweater with that hugged her every curve and ignited a fire within him.
“Any luck?” she asked. Her brown waves tied back into a loose bun revealed her pixie ears that came to points, and her sultry eyes glimmered lavender in the glow of the golden lamps dangling above them. Something was on her mind. He could sense it.
Maverick shook his head, jaw clenched, wishing he had better news. “Nothing. All my contacts are still not talking.”
Zera nodded, as if she expected that. She barely made eye contact, and it was killing him. She cleared her throat and said, “My everfrost blossom finally sprouted a bud.”
“Oh, really?” Maverick’s eyes flickered with intrigue, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
He could tell she was just making small talk, but at least it was something.
The silent treatment she’d been giving him ever since he’d brought up the Whisper’s staff was killing him.
“You’ve been tending to that thing for a while now.
I was starting to think it was an elaborate ploy to avoid me. ”
The stoic mask she wore to cover up her true feelings vanished, replaced with irritation and something else. “You’re one to talk about avoidance. Who’s the one who changes the subject whenever I try to talk about this bond between us or hearing each other’s thoughts?”
Maverick winced at her words, the truth of them cutting through his defenses.
He had been avoiding the topic of their mental connection, the possibility that they were…
He couldn’t even form the word in his mind.
He couldn’t acknowledge it or the depth of their bond.
She was a pixie. She would deceive him in the end, even if she hadn’t killed him with the Whisper’s staff.
He had to avoid the topic as long as possible, to stay focused on the mission to ensure both her and her son were safe.
There was no way she would ever understand, though, but he’d come to terms with that the moment he’d decided to test her.
“It was a test, wasn’t it?” she asked, hurt and anger reflecting in her eyes as she looked up at him.
That damned bond. It would be the death of him if he didn’t keep it in check.
His gaze hardened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar,” she muttered.
“Zera, please,” he said, his eyes begging her to drop the subject. “It’s probably just a side effect of spending so much time training. We need to keep our focus on finding Gareth. Our safety depends on it. Your safety depends on it and your son’s.”
“You really care about our safety?” She scoffed, waving her hand, and the silver double-bladed staff with the intertwined circles—the mark of the Whisper—appeared in her hands.
She chucked it at him, and he stepped back out of instinct, letting it clatter at his feet.
“That’s what I thought.” She sneered at him, so angry yet still so beautiful, even with the way her eyebrows crinkled when she was mad. “It wants you dead, and I could’ve killed you.”
He shrugged. “If you’d wanted me dead, you wouldn’t have missed my heart.”
“How do you know that?”
It was a probing question. She was baiting him for information that brought up a past he would rather forget. But Zera was here, and so was he. She’d passed the test. Didn’t that mean something? That he could trust her with the truth?
But even though he did, he wasn’t ready to share that story with anyone. It was too painful and would bring back things he didn’t ever want to feel again.
Instead, Maverick chose to deflect her question with a playful smile, hoping to lighten the tension in the air. “Because I’m a spy, remember? I’m paid to know these things, and you should work on your aim,” he teased, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.
Zera’s eyes narrowed. She was clearly unamused by his joke. “You’re afraid.”
He froze, the memory of his dream still fresh in his mind.
“Afraid of what we might become if you open up,” she pressed on when he didn’t respond, and he wondered if he might still be dreaming.
She’d said the exact words he’d only dreamed of telling her.
“You’re so scared of truly letting yourself be vulnerable, even for a second, to admit that there’s something more to all of this that you’re keeping from me. ”
He couldn’t believe it. She must’ve shared his same dream.
But how? It wasn’t possible. Even if it were, it would be too dangerous for them both to even consider it.
It would only bring more hurt and distrust. Besides, it was impossible for him to bond, for him to have a connection with anyone because of his naiveté as a young wereling.
Considering any other scenario was just a waste of time.
Maverick took a step closer to Zera, his piercing eyes searching hers for understanding. He could see the hurt and the anger but also the desire in her gaze, the longing for something deeper than what he was capable of. Something deep down he knew he wanted but could never have.
“Zera, there are things in my past that… haunt me,” he admitted softly, his voice laced with the weight of memories. “Things that I’ve done… things that I regret. I won’t jeopardize your safety and definitely not the safety of your son for whatever you might think is between us. It’s not possible.”
“What would a Lunar werewolf care about my safety, let alone my son’s?” she snapped.
Her words cut sharper than his favorite knife.
She already knew he’d rejected the Lunar Brotherhood pack and its evil ways.
Wasn’t that enough? Wasn’t it enough that everything he’d done since then was to make things right?
He lived alone now, his life forever changed as he carved his own path.
She should understand the struggles of living such a life.
But the hurt wereling within him, still angry and afraid of opening up again like he had back then, made him keep his mouth shut.
Everything he did was to be a different werewolf from one belonging to the pack he’d been raised in.
But had he actually ever said it? He thought he’d made it clear at the restaurant, but that felt like so long ago, he didn’t even know anymore.
“Why am I even here, huh?” She waved her hand at the penthouse, taking a step toward him, her arms loose at her sides, ready to block or throw a punch like he’d taught her.
“There’s a bounty on my head because of you, and I’m here training and literally waiting for plants to grow while my son wakes up every day without me.
Do you have any idea what that’s like? What it means to make sacrifices for one’s child? ”
He balled his hands into fists, his wolf rippling beneath the surface of his skin. “I will never know what that means, thanks to your kind.”
The ache in his chest threatened to consume him as he locked eyes with Zera, her pixie-like form trembling with a mix of anger and hurt that mirrored his own.
He’d never thought about being a father, of having children of his own, until the choice was taken from him.
She would never know that kind of pain just like he would never know hers. Didn’t need to.
Thanks to those damned pixies many years ago, he would never be anyone’s mate.
That was okay. He’d accepted that by now, and it was, indeed, a favor they’d done for him.
But he’d never questioned any of it until he met her.
Zera had gotten under his skin, and he cursed himself for letting his emotions get the better of him. It only made him sloppy.
She frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He shut his mouth before he said too much. He brushed by her, picking up the Whisper’s staff on his way, and headed for the sliding glass door. He’d had enough of the not-so-fresh city air.
“Yes, it does,” she pushed as she followed him. He could feel her rage coiling behind him, desperate for an outlet. They’d been stuck in this penthouse for far too long.