“Ms. March,” he said, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I won’t lie to you. You deserve to know the truth, but—”
“But what?” Jacqueline had her arms folded tightly in front of her. Her shoulders hunched and Arlo saw a flicker of uncertainty pass across her face. “I saw—I know what I saw…”
I could use this, Arlo thought miserably. It’s what I’m meant to do in this situation, isn’t it? What all Hideaway shifters are meant to do if a human suspects what we are. Use her uncertainty and confusion. Tell her she didn’t see what she thought she saw. Keep our secret safe.
But she’d sounded so desperate when she told him not to lie to her. And she was his mate. He had to trust her.
His head was pounding with the three shifter children’s voices.
*He can’t tell her. Humans aren’t meant to know about us!*
*But Eric called her—*
*Did he? Really? How do we know that? She said she works for the sheriff, she just wants to take us back to that stupid home and take Tally away again!*
Tally whined and a buffet of an emotion that could only be described as “togetherness” hit Arlo like a sack of bricks. He swayed back.
*No, Tally, that can’t be—she can’t be right, can she?*
*But you feel it too, right?*
*Hang on… no way…*
Arlo shook his head as
though he could shake their voices off. Hadn’t anyone taught these kids to keep their private conversations private and not broadcast them for everyone to hear? At least Tally was young enough for that to be an excuse.
*Kids, can you give it a rest? I can hardly hear myself think.*
Kenna and Dylan both gasped, eyes wide. *You can hear us? He can hear us!*
Their voices suddenly fell silent, except for the constant waves crashing from Tally’s mind. Arlo’s shoulders sagged. That’s something, at least.
He looked back at Jacqueline—his mate—who was glaring at him suspiciously.
His heart sank. My mate is looking at me like she’s ready for a fight. My mate. She just threw herself into danger to save this shifter child, and she’s looking at me like I’m the last person in the world she would trust.
“You’re right,” he said, his voice rougher than the rocks that stood hard against the crashing waves. “I won’t lie to you. We’re—”
“Tally don’t—” Kenna yelped, but it was too late. Tally wriggled and shifted back into her human form.
Jacqueline’s eyes went wide and she swayed back. Arlo froze, watching her. Waiting for her reaction.
“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, you—you will get cold like that, honey. Does one of you have another sweater for her?”
She’s not scared, or disgusted. Arlo’s heart lightened, and for some reason it hurt as well as felt good. She just wants to look after her.
Dylan pulled some more clothes from his bag with a flourish. While he and Kenna wrestled Tally into them, Jacqueline glanced up at Arlo, her eyes wide with wonder.
“I wasn’t imagining it,” she whispered. She took a step closer to him. “And you’re not surprised by any of this. Are you?”
The air between them seemed to shiver with possibility. Arlo was vaguely aware of the kids clustering together and whispering between themselves, but he couldn’t tear his attention away from Jacqueline.
“No,” Arlo admitted before he could stop himself. “I’m like them.”
A complicated, closed-off expression took hold of Jacqueline’s face. Arlo’s wolf whined: it didn’t want closed-off. It wanted everything to be open and clear between them, and it wanted to be able to help. To drive away whatever was hurting her.
Arlo almost groaned at the effort it took to not simply throw himself at Jacqueline’s feet and beg her to let him in.