Echo shifts in her seat, her slitted eyes observing our exchange with quiet interest. She doesn't interrupt, doesn't try to persuade either of us. Her neutrality is refreshing after years of wolves who thought they knew what was best for . Though I wonder what she's thinking about behind her impassive face. We must sound crazy.
Evan rubs his hand across his face, losing so of his aggressive denial. Instead, he's pleading. "You have no idea how dangerous this is. You're human, Violet."
I look to Echo. "How far is Yellowstone from here?"
"About eight hundred miles," she says calmly, like we're discussing the weather or sothing.
Eight hundred miles. Eight hundred miles between and the Blue Mountain Pack. Between and Xander and Nora. Between and the murderous Lycan King.
"You can't outrun them," Evan insists. "Especially not the Lycan King. If he wants you—"
I roll my eyes. "Evan, you brought here under the assumption we could outrun him. Now you're changing your story because I'm not going to do what you want. You can't have it both ways."
"But—"
"He doesn't care about . Trust ." The mory of Asher's gray eyes flashes through my mind—the intensity of his gaze as he wrapped the bandage around my wrist. But I push it away.
"You're wrong. He—" Evan stops himself, huffing sothing between a sigh and a groan.
"He…?"
Grimacing, Evan shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that you're making a mistake. This woman—" he gestures at Echo, "—you don't know her. You don't know what she is."
Echo's lips quirk at that. "He's not wrong about that."
I glance between them. Evan's obvious mistrust, Echo's casual acknowledgnt.
"Are you sothing other than human?" I ask her directly.
She tilts her head, catlike. "Does it matter?"
The question gives pause. Does it? After everything I've been through with wolves, should I fear other supernatural beings just the sa?
But then I think of my life at the pack—the constant reminders of my humanity, my weakness, my otherness.
"No," I decide. "It doesn't matter. As long as you're not planning to hurt ."
Echo smiles, revealing teeth that seem just a touch too sharp. "I have no interest in hurting you, Violet. You're far more interesting alive."
Evan makes a strangled noise. "You can't be serious. Violet, listen to yourself!"
"You should go back, Evan. Before they notice you're missing too."
"I'm not leaving you with—"
"You are." My voice hardens. "Because this is my choice. Not yours, not Xander's, not Nora's. Mine."
Evan stares at , frustration evident in every line of his body. His jaw works as if chewing on words he wants to spit out.
Echo scoots out of the dinette, stretching her lithe body as she stands. "So when do you want to leave? I'm flexible."
"Now would be best." The words co out without my bidding, and I press my lips together, embarrassed. "I an, if that works for you. I'm not in a position to make demands."
A small smile plays on her lips as she nods. "Now works. Just need to batten down the hatches."
She moves through the cramped space with the fluid Violet of soone who knows exactly where every inch of their body is. Her hands reach up to unhook a macramé plant hanger, carefully cradling the vine trailing from it.
"Have to secure everything before driving," she explains, gently arranging the plant into what looks like a modified kitchen cupboard. "Otherwise it all becos projectiles the first ti I hit the brakes."
Evan's hand clamps around my forearm again, his fingers digging into the sa spot he'd grabbed earlier. The pressure makes wince. "Violet—"
"Get your hand off her or you're going to lose it." Echo doesn't even turn around, just continues thodically securing her plants. The calm in her voice makes the threat more chilling.
Evan's grip falters but doesn't release. His breath cos faster beside , and I can feel his indecision. It isn't fear, but he seems worried. Probably thinks if he pisses off, Xander's going to yell at him—but also if he lets leave, Xander's going to yell at him.
Echo places another plant into the cabinet, her movents unhurried. "The decision's been made. Either you get out, or I'll kick you out."
The growl rumbling from Evan's chest is pure animal—a sound I've heard countless tis in six years. My heart thunders in my chest, but I refuse to cower. I've had enough of being controlled.
Sliding out of the dinette, I shake my arm violently until he finally lets it go. "Let help you, Echo."
For a mont, I think Evan might lunge at —his body tenses, his face contorting. But the mont passes. He stands, shoulders tight and fists clenched.
"Xander will co for you," he says, voice low and rough. "Hopefully you'll be a little calr by then."
My brows fly up. "Am I not calm?"
His nostrils flare. "You have no idea what you're doing."
He acts like he's capable of fighting off an army to keep safe, yet even Alpha and Beta fell under the might of the Lycans. It didn't take very long, either. "At least it's my mistake to make."
For several tense monts, Evan just stands there. His breathing grows heavier, more labored, like he's physically restraining himself from shifting. Huffing and snarling under his breath, he finally stomps toward the door.
The entire RV shakes with the force of his exit, the door slamming so hard that one of Echo's dreamcatchers swings wildly from its hook. The sudden motion makes my stomach lurch—a strange, mingled sensation of physical disorientation and emotional whiplash.
Echo's hand lands gently on my shoulder. "It'll be fine."
The simple statent, delivered without drama or excessive reassurance, is strangely calming. I let out a long breath.
"I'm sorry for bringing drama to your door. You just t and now you're dealing with... this." Grabbing a cactus off the kitchen counter, I hand it to her. Offering to help was impulsive, but there's one problem—I don't know where anything goes or how to secure a camper for travel. I've never even been in one before today.
She takes the plant from , securing it in a holder bolted to the wall. "I'm the one who invited it in." Her voice is light, almost amused.
"You couldn't have known—"
"Couldn't I?" She glances at , slitted eyes narrowing slightly. "I saw you with him in the store. I knew exactly what you were running from."
A chill creeps up my spine. "What do you an?"
She shrugs, moving to secure a strap across a shelf, keeping books in place. "Desperation has a particular scent. So does fear. And wolves—well, they have their own distinctive sll."
My fingers go numb as comprehension dawns. "You already knew Evan was a shifter?"
"Of course." She gestures vaguely toward her eyes. "I'm not exactly standard issue human myself."
I'd assud her eyes were contacts—a theatrical choice to match her vibrant aesthetic. But the casual way she references them suggests otherwise.
"What are you?"
"Does it matter?" she asks again, echoing her earlier response.
This ti I don't hesitate. "No. It doesn't."
And I an it. Whatever Echo is, she's offered freedom. After years of being judged for my humanity, the last thing I want to do is judge soone else for being different.
"Good answer." She smiles, revealing those slightly-too-sharp teeth again.
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