Page 77 of Savage Claim

“Because I know what it’s like to feel hurt and lost.” I reached over and gently patted his shoulder, the muscles tense beneath his shirt.

His expression suddenly crumpled, his head falling against the tree. “I really messed up, Tate.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the long column of his throat. “I wasn’t lying about everything when I called you the other night.”

“I know.” My heart squeezed into a tiny ball. He no longer held that little bit of innocence he used to, and his eyes had become almost as haunted as mine. “You can’t keep this whole angry, reckless antihero thing up. It’s going to get you killed.”

“I don’t know what to do, and now I find out my aunt isn’t as altruistic as she’d have everyone believe. In fact, she’s kind of a heartless bitch.” He dragged his hand down his face, dark circles bruising beneath his eyes and stubble coating his sharp jaw. “I really do need help.”

Invisible hands gripped my insides, twisting them into knots. “Go to one of the veterans. Gia would be a good listener.” She’d mentored us both through our training. “And dump Roxie’s ass. She’s a black hole sucking you dry.”

His mouth twisted like he tasted something sour. “I already dumped her lying, manipulative ass. She’s a cancer that’s been slowly eating me.”

I couldn’t have said it any better.

“Maybe I need a vacation.” Hawk turned to me, his cheeks ruddy from the cold and alcohol. “Know any good places?”

Mohan Wild’s was on the tip of my tongue, and I almost let it drop. When I had nowhere else to go, the Anders took me in. They helped tear off the heavy burden of guilt and pain resting on my chest and welcomed me even when they had no reason to trust me.

They’d do the same for Hawk, but I didn’t have the right to ask them. I couldn’t just volunteer them to help rehabilitate a troubled raven.

Right?

Maybe I could ask Camus to help. He did owe me for the shit his daughter and her mate pulled.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that.” I gave a dry chuckle. “But in the meantime, get yourself a new partner. Roxie’s a shitty girlfriend and an even worse partner.”

Hawk scoffed and tipped the bottle back again. “I’ve already put in for someone else. I’ve been such an arrogant, careless asshole, so I’m not sure who’d be willing to work with me.”

“Someone will. Just make an effort to get better, and they’ll notice.”

“No one will ever live up to my first partner.” A sad smile curved his lips. “I need to come to terms with the fact that my little Strawberry Shortcake isn’t a raven anymore.”

His old nickname for me set off a wave of bittersweet pangs in my heart. Hearing it for the first time in so long ripped the air from my lungs. “I don’t think I was ever really a raven. But I can still be a friend.”

After I helped Hawk back to Corvin Manor—I was not about to leave him out there drunk and alone—I cut through some of the side streets in downtown, resigned to finally return to Silver Ridge. Hopefully, I could just slip in and book it for my room before I ran into anyone, especially Barric.

As I turned into an alley that would lead out to Bull Street, my blood iced over at the tree symbol glowing on the brick facade of a building. I’d bet my right arm no one else could see this, not unless they were in The Collective or a descendant.

What was it doing drawn on a random building with some kind of magic witch dust? I searched the area but saw nothing unusual, so I jogged through the alley. As I exited, the faint glimmer of another symbol registered on the exterior of a coffee shop on the right and then another on the streetlight.

My pulse spiked. It was a trail meant for members only.

Did this lead to a secret meeting?

Before I even made a conscious decision, my boots led me toward the next marking and then the next. Fane told me to stay out of trouble. As long as I didn’t get caught, I wasn’t in trouble.

I followed the symbols to the outside of the shifter bar, Lunar Souls, and then around the back and down a flight of concrete stairs. My heart pounded as I opened the heavy metal door and slipped inside.

Murmured voices carried in the dank basement below the bar while I tiptoed through a maze of wire and metal shelves full of boxes. The scent of beer and mildew wrinkled my nose. As the shadows thinned, I ducked behind a shelf and slid a few boxes apart to find around two dozen shifters—a few different species—causally sitting in folding chairs, facing the right. A single dangling light in the center, the squeak of metal echoing as it gently swayed back and forth, cast a sallow glow over the clandestine group.

Wes, Torin’s father, sipped a glass of scotch or whisky, the claw scars on his neck contrasting against his bronzed skin. I recognized a few others from Silver Ridge.

“I know you’re all on edge, but there’s no need to panic. Everything is still going according to plan.”

Frost spread over my flesh, freezing the sweat beading down my back as Barric stepped out of the darkness. His massive presence overwhelmed the tight space and dwarfed all the other shifters.

Pangs assaulted my heart, and I hated the disappointment that threatened to choke me. Deep down, I’d wanted to be wrong about him. But like so many others, the head alpha was full of lies.

He folded his large body into a chair in the front of the room, facing the others, his long, jean-clad legs spreading wide. “No one has brought up The Collective. No one will connect the missing shifters to us.”

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