AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Which is just great.
And Voss doesn’t seem to care. He’s enjoying winding up the others, teasing them about me coming home fully bonded—I assured Micah that was not the case. Hell, Cevon and I haven’t even kissed yet. The man is more fucked up than I am when it comes to sex.
Micah is struggling with all the dominant personalities, and I can’t wait to get home to just be there for him.
“What’s up, little darkling?” Cevon asks, turning to look at me. “What’s Micah saying?”
“You knew I was talking to Micah?” He shrugs and glances back at the road. I don’t like that, though. “Are you reading my messages?”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “But I did read them when I had your phone.”
“Ah, lovely,” I mutter, but rather than fighting over it, I let it go. I can’t really hold anything he did before he knew we were mates against him, including the kidnapping. He seems to let the times I’ve tried to hurt him go. “I assume we’re going to stop that now?”
Cevon’s jerky nod is the only answer I get, but it’s good enough for me.
“So, why do you think it would be Micah I was texting?” I ask, turning to give him my full attention. My phone buzzes, but Micah’s not going to mind waiting for a reply.
He’s perfect that way.
“Because Micah’s the friend,” Cevon says, turning right at the sign despite it saying no entry. “He’s always been the sweet one. The innocent one. It’s very obvious that he’d be your friend.”
See, his words don’t sound mean.
His tone? The judgement? The sneer on his face?
It’s all rude, and he’s insulting Micah, who isn’t here to defend himself. Fuck, he’s insulting a relationship I treasure, and I won’t stand for that.
“I don’t know your history with Micah, not fully, but don’t insult him,” I say, shaking my head when he goes to argue. “Atticus is fair game. He’s your brother, and right or not, you’ve got a lot of issues to work out. Mal’s a bit of an ass, and I guarantee he’s going to have done something to piss you off. You and Orson will likely get along, eventually, but he’s more than capable of putting you in your place. Voss can give what he takes and will probably enjoy the fight. Fin… well, Fin’s a good guy. But Micah? He’s not going to fight back with you. So leave him alone.”
He smirks. “Aw, does the little cub know you’re going to bat for his honour?”
“I’d do it for you, too, if you needed it,” I say, turning to look out the window. “And don’t call him little cub—Orson calls me that, and it’ll hurt his feelings.”
Cevon snorts but falls silent. We drive along an open area, and I can hear the loud whirring that is obviously the helicopter. He turns left and stops the car a few metres from where a giant helicopter sits.
It seems impressive. It’s bright blue, and that’s pretty much all I can tell you. But Cevon lets out a low whistle as he comes to my side of the car.
“Of course, he’s flaunting his wealth,” Cevon mutters. “Why send a smaller bird, when he’s got a six-seater?”
It’s a rhetorical question, one I can’t really answer considering I know very little about helicopters or how many Atticus may own. Cevon grabs my bag, and I quickly text Micah, letting him know we’re about to get on the helicopter.
Get on? Get in?
I’ve never been a rich girl. The terminology is beyond me.
As we approach, Cevon keeps me slightly behind him, and I can see the tension in his shoulders. His lion is to the surface, and I know if someone even breathes wrong, he’s going to shift so he can protect us both. I stay silent, making it easier for him to listen, as he assesses the surrounding areas for danger.
Two men step out of the helicopter, wearing identical grey uniforms, and I squeeze Cevon’s hand as they approach. The pilot—or at least the one wearing a cap—is a bird shifter, an eagle to be precise. The other man is a flying squirrel, but I don’t know enough about them to determine which region he’s from.
“Gentleman,” Cevon says. “Identification?”
“Little mouse,” both men utter before the pilot hands Cev a letter, and I hold in my groan.
Of course, Devoss made that the password.
Cevon reads the letter and nods. He moves ever so slightly, letting me be seen, and if I wasn’t aware of what he was doing, I might have missed it. But he’s now relaxed, no longer on edge as if he’s going to have to kill these men.
As a rational sifter, I know that killing these men wasn’t ever going to be needed. But Cevon needed to realise that for himself.
