I didn't realize the awkward silence could only get more awkward.
Andrew hesitates, frowning at for a long ti. It's not the I'm-mad-at-you kind, but like he's thinking things through. Maybe he, too, is rembering the tis we were there together, and how I rarely ordered anything for myself.
anwhile, Rafe never skimped on his als. It was always because of his training, or hunting, or whatever used up his calories for the day. When did it start…?
There was a ti he would say, "Well, if you don't want to order anything, we don't have to eat there."
Every ti, I would insist he eat, because he was tired and worked hard.
Eventually…
Well. One day it wasn't like that anymore. I just can't really pinpoint the ti it changed.
Andrew suddenly nods, a sharp up-and-down jerk of his head, before he peels out of the parking lot. "You know, I was never a fan of xican food, anyway."
Liar. Much like Rafe, Andrew's plate was always filled with food. Though, despite being rather distant and indifferent to my plights and woes, he would politely offer things on occasion.
Never took him up on it, of course, because… well, my head was filled with Rafe, and I was always under the impression Andrew didn't like very much.
Which begs the question: How did I never realize Rafe's lack of regard, when soone I assud disliked would offer food off his plate, but my own boyfriend wouldn't?
It's a sobering thought process. Like opening Pandora's Box; now that I'm thinking about it, I can't stop… noticing.
I point half-heartedly at the cetery looming ahead, not far from us. "We're almost there."
"Uh-huh." The sound's more of a grunty acknowledgent of my words than anything; it isn't like he needs directions. He was born and raised here, after all. This is his pack by life and legacy.
I'm just filling air because the silence between us feels like a third passenger in the damn car.
My phone vibrates against my thigh, and I fish it out, already knowing who it'll be. Caeriel's na flashes across my screen with a single line of text:
[CAERIEL: Jebediah Wulfric]
I stare at the ssage with a frown. He's not being weird or cryptic; I recognize the na, of course. It's the first alpha of the Blue Mountain Pack, the one who brought his people here and fought and bled for his new territory. I might not rember the packs here before the Blue Mountain Pack, but I definitely rember the na Jebediah Wulfric, the first alpha to claim the territory.
It's even said Blue Mountain was nad so because of the mountain ranges of his youth, or sothing, which has nothing to do with the mountains surrounding our territory.
History lesson aside, the first alpha is buried in this very cetery. It's clear Caeriel's giving a hint on what to look for.
It's equally clear he's watching my every move from sowhere.
Or there's so sort of creepy GPS-slash-surveillance going on with the App, which is… mm, not particularly reassuring.
[GRACE HARPER: Are you watching ?]
[CAERIEL: Yes.]
… apparently Caeriel, Andrew, and Caine all go to the sa school of terse answers.
[GRACE HARPER: How?]
[CAERIEL: With my eyes.]
So fucking helpful. I roll mine, secretly hoping Lyre shows up and kicks his ass. Too bad this is all supposed to be all Secrety Secrets, because I bet Caine would do it just on a whim. It's not like he's opposed to violence…
And apparently, I'm starting to beco a little desensitized myself.
My fingers tap against the display as I frown at Andrew's profile, barely registering him pulling into a parking space. He doesn't even look my way.
"What?"
"Nothing." Tap, tap, tippity tap.
"Clearly it's sothing."
"It's nothing, really. Just… wondering why our pack is so peaceful." I pause. "Your pack."
Andrew rests both hands on the wheel, staring out the windshield. "Peaceful? I suppose. We're in a ti of unprecedented peace in the area, sothing we haven't seen since the First Alpha's age. At least, that's what they say."
There's sothing in the way he's saying it. Not quite a lack of confidence, but… sothing.
It's hard to put my finger on.
"Still… you, of all people, know how unwelcoming we are to outsiders. Not just humans like you, but rogues, too."
I flinch, and he finally looks at with sympathy. "You didn't do anything wrong. Rogues aren't inherently evil, cruel, or dangerous. As long as they haven't gone feral, they're just like you or ."
Then he pauses, sympathy fading from his face as his lips quirk into a grin. "Well, maybe not you. Rogue wolves are still shifters."
Locked mories are banging on the door, insisting on coming out to play, but I have no interest in entertaining them. They already ca out without warning the other day, and I have no interest in another visit.
Refusing to et Andrew's gaze or even respond to his understanding sympathy, I pop open the door and slip out of the car, heading into the cetery without even waiting to see if he follows behind.
After about twenty feet or so, I pause and glance behind , sohow unsurprised to see Andrew hasn't left the car. He's watching , though, and waves through the window.
Uneasiness stirs over his implicit understanding. I wasn't sure how I was going to get space from him in order to get my sleuthing done, but he sohow seems to understand I'm holding secrets.
Worse, he's okay with them.
Which is a good thing and I'm not complaining—not even close—but it does leave a little off-balance. So far, when you consider the balance of friendship between us, it's heavily weighted on Andrew's side.
He's helped out several tis.
He's shown loyalty.
He saved from Ellie's goons.
He's showing up with strange bruises.
And I'm… what, feeding him occasionally? It's clear our friendship isn't very equal, and I wonder how I'm going to even it out.
But first, I need to find Jebediah Wulfric's grave.
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