Lone Wolf (The Pack 5)

I’m sorry, Paige cried out to me, showing not a single hint of her internal turmoil as she delicately buttered a roll. I should have listened to you.

Her remorse was like a wave crashing over me, threatening to suck me under. I clutched the fork in my hand tightly, letting the emotion flow over me instead of take me. Easy, Paige, I chided and the emotional wave disappeared in a flash. You were going to help him. I just made it so Gran wouldn’t know.

But if I hadn’t….she trailed off.

But you did. I knew you would.

You’re always covering for me, she fussed internally, while outwardly she ate a bite of fish and gave no indication of our mental conversation. You should let me face the consequences. I shuddered internally at the thought even as her guilt pushed at me. Paige never could hide her emotions.

I will never allow you to face Gran’s consequences, I swore as dinner churned dangerously in my stomach at the idea of Gran ever punishing Paige. I changed the subject, needing her to forget this sudden display of consciousness. Captain America all better?

Yes, I healed his leg, but I need to tell you….Paige broke off as Gran said her name.

“Paige,” Gran interrupted whatever Paige was about to tell me. “If you are going to play with your food, then you are clearly not hungry. You are dismissed.” Paige gave me a helpless glance, but stood from the table, laying her napkin precisely over the plate to indicate she was finished. Silence fell over the table until Paige was out of earshot, then Gran declared, “Watch her.”

My head jerked toward Gran, startled by her directive. She had never shown any indication that she doubted Paige so my nod was slow in coming. “May I ask why?” I risked, keeping my eyes lowered.

“I don’t want the foolish child becoming moon-eyed over a handsome face,” Gran replied, her voice clipped, as the air escaped me in a rush, stunned by her answer. “You will deal exclusively with the prisoner. I expect your pragmatic nature will serve you well in this instance.”

I dipped my chin in acknowledgement, knowing it was pointless to argue, not that I wanted to this time. Instead of having to finagle a reason to see him, Gran had handed me the perfect excuse. “Of course,” I said simply, setting my fork down. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll see to hi-,” I cut myself off before she could conclude my pragmatic nature had also been swayed by a chiseled jaw. “The prisoner,” I corrected hastily.

She inclined her head and I was careful not to rush, wiping my mouth then delicately folding my napkin. “Have a good evening,” I offered politely before turning to leave the room. My shoulders didn’t relax until I was out of her line of sight and then my strides grew longer.

I needed to set a few things straight with Captain America before he got us killed.

***

My gaze swept the clearing as I approached the cellar, but no one was around. The few who were left tended to keep inside after dark, a lesson Paige said I needed to learn. She could never understand that nothing out here scared me, that the darkness was the only place where I could be myself.

I padded silently down the stone steps, my hand trailing on the damp wall as the pupil in my amber eye dilated, allowing my eyesight to sharpen in the dim light. A pebble caught under my foot, and I winced as it skittered down the steps, announcing my arrival.

He was standing, arms crossed over a muscular chest while a pair of baggy shorts preserved his modesty, when I stopped at the door. “You’re awake,” I observed, somehow unsurprised he’d managed to shake off Gran’s spell so quickly. His left eye twitched and my own narrowed in response. A question bubbled on my lips but he moved, so quickly I flinched, giving me a rare taste of my own medicine.

“You came.”

Strong fingers wrapped around the bars as he studied me, bright blue eyes catching mine, and I hurried to lower them before he saw more than I wanted. My gaze fell to his hands, taking note of the calluses as he tightened his grip.

I inhaled, the musky scent of male filling my lungs, and raised my eyes. “We need to talk.”

He released the door and spread his arm in welcome. The corner of my mouth curled up in a shadowy smile as I faintly shook my head. “I’ll stay here,” I commented and he lifted one shoulder.

“Your prerogative.” A flash of white accompanied his next words, “I don’t bite.”

A choked laugh escaped me at the clear lie. I tapped my nose. “I think yours just grew an inch.”

“It’s not the only thing,” he remarked, eyes glinting and I felt my cheeks heat uncomfortably at the innuendo. He smoothed his expression when he saw my discomfort. “You wanted to talk?”