Page 17 of Billionaire Wolf Needs a Pilot
She nodded, moving with purpose despite the stiffness I could see in her movements.The crash had left its mark on her, though she tried to hide it.I caught myself tracking her movements, cataloging each wince and careful step for potential injuries.When she stumbled slightly, my hand shot out to steady her, faster than I should have allowed.
Her eyes widened at my reflexes, but she said nothing, just nodded her thanks and continued her task.The silence stretched between us, not uncomfortable but charged with unspoken questions.
“Tell me about your mother,” I said suddenly, surprising myself.But something in me needed to know her better, to understand the woman who carried a silver pendant into a fiery wreckage because it connected her to someone she loved.
Felicity paused, her hands stilling on the rocks she was arranging.For a moment, I thought I’d overstepped, but then her expression softened.
“She was the strongest person I’ve ever known,” she began, resuming her work as she spoke.“Raised me alone after my father took off when I was four.Never complained, never dated.Her whole life became about giving me opportunities she never had.”Felicity’s voice took on a tender quality I hadn’t heard before.“She worked three jobs sometimes, just so I could take flying lessons.”
I continued preparing the rabbit, letting her talk while keeping my movements measured and human.The domesticity of the scene wasn’t lost on me.The two of us worked in tandem, preparing a meal and having a conversation as if we’d done this countless times before.My wolf found it deeply satisfying in ways I didn’t want to examine too closely.
“I understand more than you might think,” I said quietly, my hands never pausing in their work.“My parents divorced when I was six.My mother took me and left Angel Spring.I haven’t been back since.”The admission felt strange on my tongue.These were personal details I rarely shared with anyone.“My father stayed behind to run the company.He was never much for hands-on parenting, preferring to send a bank transfer every month to actual involvement in my life.”
Felicity’s eyes widened slightly.“So you’re returning to a place you haven’t seen since you were a child?”
I nodded, focusing intently on my task.“A place that holds few good memories.My father and I were never close, even before the divorce.After my mother left with me, our relationship became nothing more than occasional phone calls and obligatory holiday cards.”
“That couldn’t have been easy,” she said softly, a genuine sympathy in her voice that made something in my chest tighten.
I shrugged, uncomfortable with her compassion.“It was what it was.My mother made sure I never lacked for anything important.”I glanced up, meeting her gaze.“Like your mother did for you.”
“When did she get sick?”I asked softly, genuinely curious about the woman who’d raised someone as resilient as Felicity.
She sighed, arranging the last stone around the fire in a cooking circle.“The symptoms started when I was still in flight school.Little things at first, forgetting appointments, repeating stories.I thought it was stress.”Her voice caught.“By the time I got my commercial license, she couldn’t remember I was a pilot at all.”
The pain in her words resonated with something deep inside me.Loss took many forms, and while my own had been sudden and violent, hers was a slow, cruel erosion of connection.
“That’s why the pendant matters so much,” I said, understanding dawning.
Felicity nodded, unconsciously reaching for the silver plane hanging around her neck.“She gave it to me when I got accepted to flight school.Said that it would keep me safe in the sky.”A sad smile touched her lips.“She doesn’t recognize it now.Doesn’t recognize me either, most days.”
I finished my task, setting the prepared meat aside.After I rinsed my hands in melted snow, I moved closer to her, my hand covering hers where it clutched the pendant.The contact sent warmth rushing through me, and I saw her eyes widen slightly.
“She’s still proud of you,” I said with conviction.“Even if she can’t express it.”
Tears gathered in her eyes, but she blinked them away fiercely.“How would you know?”
“Because anyone would be.”The words emerged more intensely than I’d intended.My thumb unconsciously stroked across her knuckles.“You’re extraordinary, Felicity.”
The moment of silence hung between us, charged and dangerous.I could hear her heartbeat accelerate, see the flush spreading across her cheeks.My wolf surged forward, urging me to close the remaining distance between us, to claim what it already considered ours.With tremendous effort, I withdrew my hand and returned to the fire.
“We should get this cooking,” I said, my voice rougher than normal.“You need the protein to heal.”
Felicity cleared her throat, visibly collecting herself.“What about you?Fair trade.I shared, now it’s your turn.”
I stiffened, arranging the meat over the fire.Personal history wasn’t something I discussed with anyone, especially not the complicated truth of who, or what, I was.But I owed her something in return for her vulnerability.
“You asked why I’m going to Angel Spring,” I began cautiously.“The truth is complicated.”
“We’ve got nothing but time,” she pointed out, settling closer to the fire.Close enough that her scent enveloped me again, making concentration difficult.
I chose my words carefully.“My family’s mine contaminated that town for decades.My father knew about it and did nothing.Profit over people, always.”Bitterness crept into my voice despite my efforts.“When he died recently, I inherited everything, including responsibility for his sins.”
“So you’re going there to what?Make amends?”
“To shut down the mine permanently,” I said firmly.“To fund medical care for those affected by the contamination.To clean up the poisoned land.To try to fix what my family broke.”
Felicity studied me with those perceptive eyes, making me feel exposed in ways board meetings and business rivals never had.
