We took the narrow trail that looped around the residential cabins, boots crunching softly over gravel and fallen needles.
The silence between us felt easy, like something already worn in, even though we barely knew each other.
His head tilted slightly. “You mentioned the other day that you were packless before.”
Mason was sharp; he remembered everything. I didn’t know why that thought suddenly flared in my mind.
“Yeah,” I said again, slower this time. “My family kept to ourselves.”
Mason’s gaze dropped to the trail ahead of us. “That must’ve been quiet.”
Quiet was one word for it; lonely was another.
“Sometimes,” I said.
I didn’t miss the way his shoulders eased just a fraction, like something about that answer mattered more than it should have. We walked a few more steps before he spoke again.
“What’s it like? Being part of something big now?” There was something careful in the way he asked. It wasn’t casual curiosity, but something closer to hunger.
“It’s loud,” I said, lips twitching faintly. “Pack dinners get chaotic. Everyone’s in everyone else’s business. Privacy’s basically a myth.”
That earned me a small huff of amusement.
“But,” I continued, voice quieter now, “you’re never alone unless you want to be.”
Mason went very still beside me. My wolf lifted its head. He sensed something there.
“Sounds nice,” Mason said, gaze fixed straight ahead.
My instincts were telling me that there was definitely more to Mason’s story than he was telling me.
I didn’t push and didn’t even hint at it. Every instinct I had said the same thing: that if I pushed too hard, Mason would bolt.
For reasons I was still trying to untangle, the idea of Mason disappearing into the woods and out of my reach made something in my chest go tight.
We rounded the bend in the trail, the trees opening slightly to let more light spill through. Mason lightly kicked a pinecone in our path, watching it skitter off into the brush.
I noticed that his scent had sharpened. He seemed nervous, and I wondered what he was thinking about.
My mind flicked back to the kitchen earlier. Mason mentioned that he used to cook for his brother. I hadn’t reacted at the time because I hadn’t wanted to spook him, but now the memory pricked at me.
That was new information, and Mason didn’t strike me as the type to casually forget to mention family. Suspicion deepened, slow and unwelcome. I didn’t like it, and especially didn’t like aiming it at him.
My wolf certainly didn’t.Trust him, the instinct pushed. However, instinct wasn’t evidence, and something didn’t quite line up.
I had to be careful about what I asked Mason next.
“Your brother,” I said, keeping my tone as neutral as I could. “You mentioned him earlier.”
Mason’s entire body went tight. There it was.
“He still around?” I asked, trying to keep my tone gentle.
Mason’s gaze snapped to mine, sharp and guarded in a way I hadn’t seen from him before.
“Yeah,” he said shortly.
Mason didn’t elaborate. Door slammed, and message received. I lifted both hands slightly in surrender.
