Chapter 24 Something borrowed, something lost.
ZANE'S POV
As I rounded the corner of the east wing at seven fifty-five, there she was, standing outside her cabin wearing a dark jeans, and a brown jacket, with her hair down.
Silver Ridge in the morning was just as I remembered it.
I drove down the main street, glancing over at Davina in the passenger seat. I could see her sitting up a little straighter, her eyes darting around, taking in everything, the bakery with its chalkboard sign, the hardware store, and the row of small businesses coming to life. Her hands were clasped in her lap, pressing together slightly.
Two of my wolves trailed us in the truck behind, while two more were already stationed on the street. I’d done a sweep myself at dawn.
I parked outside Books and Brews, and before I even turned off the engine, she had her seatbelt unbuckled and was already stepping out. I made my way around to her side, but she was already on the pavement, standing in front of the boarded-up window, hands tucked into her jacket pockets, staring at the splintered frame and the broken glass someone had swept into a pile by the wall.
She lingered there for a long moment, lost in thought, and I stayed back, giving her the space she needed.
Then, from across the street, I heard a voice call out, “Davina?”
She turned, a guy was standing outside the hardware store two doors down, he looked like he was in his mid-twenties, blonde, athletic, and wearing a work jacket with the store’s logo on it. He looked at her like he was trying to confirm he wasn’t imagining things.
Before I could even process what was happening, she crossed the street. He barely had time to open his arms before she walked right into them. He wrapped her up tight, and she pressed her face against his shoulder, while he held on like he didn't want to let go again.
Fenris went absolutely rigid.
I kept my eyes on the street, giving them some moments before I dared to look back.
She was pulling away now, with her hands on his arms, and both of them talking at once.
“Where have you been?” he asked, his hands on her shoulders, checking her over. “I went to the shop, the window was boarded up, nobody knew anything.”
“I’m fine,” she replied, smiling, though her eyes told a different story. “I’ve been staying with a friend. It’s a long story, but I promise I’m completely fine.”
“A friend?” He looked at her, clearly skeptical. “What friend? You don’t have friends here yet.”
“Liam.” She laughed, a short, genuine sound. “I promise I’ll explain everything. Just not right now, okay?”
Then she turned, her gaze finding mine across the street. “Come meet someone.”
I crossed the street. Up close, he was taller than I’d thought, maybe an inch shorter than me with an easy, open face that instantly made you feel at ease. He looked at me with a friendly expression, but there was a question lurking beneath the surface.
“Liam Reed,” he said, extending his hand.
“Zane.” I shook it, my grip firm but careful.
“Zane’s the friend,” Davina said, her tone somehow conveying both a lot and very little at the same time.
Liam glanced between us. “Right,” he said slowly. “Okay.”
She patted his arm once and turned toward the shop. “I’m just grabbing some things. I’ll come see you before I leave, okay?”
“I’ll be here,” he replied, his gaze lingering on me as he said it.
She unlocked the shop and stepped inside, and the smell hit me first. Old paper, coffee grounds, and wood. I watched her walk through it, her fingers trailing along the shelves, touching the spines of books.
For a while, she didn’t say anything.
She went behind the counter, running her hand along the surface, checking something on the small shelf beneath the register, and even moved a book a few inches to the left for no apparent reason. The broken French press had been cleaned up, someone had swept the floor, but the cracked bookshelf against the back wall still bore the mark where she’d hit it.
She paused, then turned toward the stairs. “I’ll be five minutes.”
I nodded and stayed downstairs.
Above me, I heard her footsteps crossing the floor of her apartment, slow at first, then stopping. The creak of a bed then silence.
I picked up a book from the nearest shelf, and glanced at the cover. Fenris sat quietly in my chest, all that contained energy simmering beneath the surface. I stood in her shop, surrounded by the scent of her life before everything changed, and thought about Liam Reed’s face when she’d walked into his arms.
The way she’d moved across that street so fast, she’d never come toward me like that.
I put the book back.
Upstairs, her footsteps started again, moving around, the soft thud of a bag being packed. Then silence again, then a long exhale that I could hear even through the ceiling.
I thought about leaving her here.
The thought came out of nowhere, and I didn’t want it, but there it was. She had a life in this building, a real one she’d built from scratch. Liam across the street, slow mornings, the smell of coffee and old books.
And I had brought wolves into her life, and a compound full of them still deciding whether she deserved to breathe their air.
I wasn’t going to leave her though, but that thought lingered, and when she came back down the stairs with a bag slung over her shoulder and her eyes shining a little brighter than before, I looked at her and felt something.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I replied.
She took one last look around the shop, her gaze sweeping over every shelf, the painted back wall, the cracked bookcase, and the morning light filtering through the boards on the window.
Then she turned to me.