Page 27 of Nick
“Can we talk?Just you and me.”
The seconds stretched between them before he finally nodded, a curt motion.They moved away from the motel.Sarah felt the grit beneath her sandals, the dry air catching in her throat.She glanced at Nick, searching for any softening in his profile, anything to hint that the chasm between them was bridgeable.
“Sarah, if this is about going to the art festival—”
“No, it’s not that.I need you to know why I did what I did.”
He stopped then, turning to face her.The intensity in his gaze was a tangible thing and threatened to unravel her.But she held his stare, mustering every ounce of courage she possessed.
“Nick, I—I betrayed you because I had no choice.”Her voice drifted away on the hot breeze.“Vincent… He was going to do something terrible to you.And our child, our baby, needed protection.”
His gaze swept over her face, searching, judging, weighing her every word.
Nick’s expression was unreadable, a mask carved from the very mesas that surrounded them.The revelation seemed to calcify around them, and for a moment, Sarah feared she had shattered whatever tentative peace they might have found.
“I could have protected…” But he didn’t finish.
She reached out, her hand hovering just shy of his arm.
But before Sarah could stitch together the frayed edges of their past with explanations and regrets, Nick shook his head.It was a small gesture, but it landed like a boulder in Sarah’s chest.He turned from her, his tall form casting a long shadow on the cracked pavement as he walked away.
She stood frozen, watching his retreating figure.As he disappeared, a hollow misery settled inside her.She wrapped her arms around herself, seeking comfort where none could be found.
Had she been wrong to try to explain it to him now, after all this time?
Had reaching out to him been a grave mistake—one that might cost her the last shreds of their bond?
Chapter 12
THE SUNBURST ART FESTIVALenveloped Nick as he stepped into the crowd with Sarah by his side, the scent of acrylic paint and sun-warmed clay mingling with the savory aroma of street food.
His wolf prowled just beneath the surface, eager to mark its territory, to claim what was his in the eyes of the unsuspecting crowd—many of whom were humans, he realized.
“Looks like the whole town turned out,” Sarah murmured, her voice a soft contrast to the buzz around them.
“Where did all the humans come from?”he asked.
“The festival draws people from several counties,” Sarah said.“Not all of them are pack.”
Nick grunted in reply, barely registering her words as his gaze swept over the park.His eyes were sharp and calculating, seeking the perfect stage for their charade.They needed to be seen, truly seen, for their ruse to work, for the pack dynamics to shift in their favor once more.
And then he spotted it—the fountain.Its water danced under the New Mexico sun, casting a shimmering spray.It stood like an oasis, the ideal backdrop for the display they intended.
“Over there,” he said, nodding toward the fountain without looking at Sarah.“It’s perfect.”
The hint of a plan laced through his tone, a thread of dominance.
This was more than a performance; it was a reclaiming, a statement to any who dared question his place in the pack—or Sarah’s.
“Ready?”he asked.
“Always,” Sarah said, her brown eyes meeting his with a mix of emotions swirling within them—regret, desire, and something more, something he couldn’t read.
She understood the stakes, the need to create this illusion, weave it so tightly that not even the most discerning shifter could unravel it.
Nick’s hand captured Sarah’s with an ironclad grip.The warmth of her palm seared against his skin as he wove them through the throngs of art enthusiasts and casual bystanders.Their bodies moved in tandem, Nick leading, cutting through the crowd.Artist stalls blurred past, bursts of color and creativity.As they approached the fountain, the noise of the festival receded, replaced by the sound of his own breathing, the pulse of his blood.
The scent of earth and oil paint drifted on the breeze, but it was Sarah’s subtle fragrance that captured Nick.He could feel the eyes on them, sense the whispers and fleeting glances from pack members, catching snippets of intrigue that swirled around them like the dust devils that sometimes rushed across Sunburst’s landscape.
