Page 12 of Secrets and S'mores
“We only had to reconstruct a building. You lost several of your packmates during the attack,” Cedar interjects.
Her dark eyes narrow at my twin, her tone going ice cold. “Well, someone decided to fight with guns instead of tranqs and teeth like civilized packs do.”
It seems my little hummingbird has reached the end of her patience. The air feels heavy between us, like everyone is waiting for a bomb to explode.
“Ember,” Slate says slowly, “We didn’t have much choice in the circumstances.”
“How many wolves did you lose?” she snaps without missing a beat.
“We didn’t start the fight.” Slate is trying to be objective, but he lacks his mate’s people skills. A tick in his jaw gives away how infuriated he really is.
“Neither did I,big brother,” she says, tossing her fork down and stepping over the bench. Hands balled into fists, she stalks away.
“Well, that went well,” Hazel growls at her mate. “You’re certainly fighting like siblings already.”
Slate scowls at Ember’s retreating back.
Scrambling up, I’m several steps away from the table before I look back and gesture at our plates. “Can you?”
“I got it,” Cedar cuts in. “Go.”
“Thanks,” I call over my shoulder, jogging to catch up with Ember. She strides into the trees, glossy hair whipping behind her as she shakes her head angrily.
“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”
“Just making sure you don’t go back and torch my home.”
Before I can finish my joke, she’s on me. Her index finger jabs my chest, the pointed black nail pricking my skin through my shirt. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t make our packs enemies, I didn’t plan to take over your land, and I definitely didn’t want to come here.”
“I know.”
My response must startle her, because she freezes, her eyes still on my chest.
“I don’t think it means we have to be enemies just because our packs used to be,” I say, offering a tentative peace.
Achingly slow, her hazel eyes trace up my neck, snagging on my mouth and finally reaching my eyes. “But doesn’t it?”
“No.”
“Everyone hates me. I can feel it. It doesn’t matter. I don’t need to make a bunch of friends here.”
Considering how welcoming we’ve been, it irks me to hear that.
“I’m not talking about everyone else. I mean you and me.”
A harsh laugh breaks out of her throat. “You’ve made your opinion of me very clear.”
“Oh, really?” I say, waiting for her to clarify.
What opinion could that be? And was it before or after I kissed her and pinned her up against a building?
Her hand withdraws, her fingers threading together as she twists her hands absently. “Look, I don’t want to spend this whole time being judged or blamed for everything my pack has done, or what I did under orders. I’d like it if we just started over.”
“Fine by me. No judging or blaming. I can be civil if you can.”
She studies me and I suddenly feel very exposed. Tugging at my neckline, I let out a slow exhale, trying to stay calm under her scrutiny.
“I can be civil,” she says slowly, testing each word.
