She looks at me like the answer is obvious. "I've worked with the alpha for the last six months," she says simply. "I’ve seen that plate too many times to count.” She takes another sip. "Why was Anton here?"
Elowen sets her drink down on the workbench and looks between us, her dark eyes moving from Cliff to me and back again.
"What's going on?" she asks.
Cliff steps forward. "We've been making some calls.” His voice careful and even, clearly working up to letting herdown. "Asking around about what happened to your parents.”
Elowen goes very still.
"We should have told you sooner," Cliff continues. "But we wanted to have something worth telling you before we said anything."
Her eyes move to me. "Did you tell Anton?"
"Yes," I say. No point dressing up the fact that Anton knows.
A flood of emotions fills Elowen’s face.
First surprise. Then something sharp and wounded that tells me she's not entirely okay with the fact that her personal history is now in Anton's hands. Then underneath both of those things, something quieter and more complicated that looks like it might be relief, or gratitude, or maybe both.
I don’t know.
"Okay," she whispers as she takes a deep breath.
Adam moves without a word. He steps up beside her and takes her hand, lacing his fingers through hers and holding on with a quiet, steady grip. Elowen looks down at their joined hands for a moment, and something in her face softens.
Then she lifts her chin.
"Okay," she says more firmly. Then she looks at Cliff. "What have you found?"
Cliff's expression shifts into something careful. He moves slowly, stopping right in front of her, close enough that she has to tilt her chin up to meet his eyes. His hand comes up and cups her face, his thumb moving once across her cheekbone.
"We're still working on a few leads," he says. "But I want to be honest with you, omega." He pauses, choosing his nextwords carefully. "My connections near Cassville don't remember their deaths. So far, I can’t find anyone that actually knows anything." His thumb moves again. "It's been three years, and I don't want you to get your hopes up. But we’re going to keep looking.”
The shop is completely silent.
Even Perrin has stopped pretending to work.
Elowen absorbs everything quietly, her eyes on Cliff's face.
"Alright," she says finally.
"Yeah?" Adam says, his can halfway to his mouth.
"Yes," she says again, more firmly. She reaches up and wraps her hand around Cliff's wrist, not pulling it away, holding it there against her cheek. "Thank you for looking." She glances at me. "Both of you." Her eyes narrow at my face. "Even if you went behind my back to do it."
"To be fair," I say, "you would have told me not to talk to him."
"Yes," she says. "I would have."
I lean in slightly, my voice dropping to a throaty rumble. "I'm more than happy to take whatever punishment you want to give, sweetheart."
Elowen's composure lasts approximately one second before a giggle escapes her. She presses her lips together and glances away, suddenly looking very shy.
"It's getting late," Perrin says with the casual authority of a man who has decided the conversation is wrapping up whether anyone else is ready or not. "Odette's coming over for dinner."
My head turns to him immediately. "Ma's cooking?"
"Mama O’s cooking," Perrin confirms.
