Page List


Font:  

We just looked at each other, smiling.

“I love my parents, my family,” Connor said. “But I’m aware I was spoiled because they considered me the prince. The Apex in training. I had attention and love. I was encouraged to take chances, and I was forgiven if I screwed up. I was praised for being cocky because it was a sign of being alpha. Showed I was on the right path.

“That’s the thing about Apex,” he said. “Being Apex is about listening to the Pack, doing what’s best for the Pack. Acting on behalf of the Pack. If you aren’t confident enough to be who youare, to care about those who you care about, you’re not alpha enough to be Apex.” He paused. “It’s Alexei’s fault I grew up.”

“Is it?”

Connor nodded. “He’s always been more serious than me. Not as serious as you,” he added with a grin, “because he’s still a shifter. But he has... an old soul.

“We were out on a run,” he continued, “scrambling around in the woods. Chasing rabbits, turkeys, deer, whatever. We heard this really odd sound—some kind of bird, but nothing like what we’d heard before. So we followed it, found a pond in the middle of a field. There was a full moon, and it was shining down on this water, and the water was perfectly still. Except, in the middle, was a bird.”

He frowned. “A crane, I think. A sandhill crane. White, with black-tipped wings and a spot of crimson right at the top of its head. It was alone in the middle of this water, the light reflecting off its feathers. And it was... majestic.”

He stared into middle distance, as if watching the memory play back. “It was alone, as far as we would see. No other birds—no other wildlife. Just this one single crane in the middle of this silvery water.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I was—I don’t know—eighteen or so. We shifted back, and I made some stupid joke about food, and let’s hurry up and go. I’m sure it was witty, but it was callous. And he said something like, ‘It can fly. We stumble around in the dirt, and it can fly. We should see what it has to tell us.’ And then the bird spread its wings and lifted up, droplets of water flying behind it like a trail of stars. It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

“I bet it was lovely,” I said, imagining the scene clearly.

He settled his gaze on me again. “You’d have appreciated it. And after that, I began to appreciate things more. Alexei has depth. And for the first time in my life, I wanted to have some of that depth. Some of his gravitas. Does that sound ridiculous?”

“Not even a little. It sounds important.”

He smiled, seemed relieved that I thought so. “It was.”

“While we’re being honest, can I make a confession?”

“Sure.”

I cleared my throat, had to work myself up to it a bit. “As a kid... I enjoyed it when you got in trouble.”

He threw back his head and roared with laughter. When he’d calmed down, he wiped at his eyes. “Sorry,” he said. “Sorry. It’s just—that’s not a confession I’d have ever thought you’d make. I know you enjoyed it. You weren’t exactly subtle, Lis. That’s one reason why I called you brat.”

He smiled at me, and there was something so open and unguarded about his smile that it tugged my heartstrings. Vulnerability wasn’t something I saw very often in Sups, much less in the man who wanted to lead them. I let myself enjoy that smile, that moment, and thought how much time had changed us.

Something beeped, and we both looked toward the sound. Connor’s screen was on the counter, flashing with light and buzzing with sound.

“Hold that thought,” he said, and maneuvered around to check it. “My alarm.” There was resignation in his voice as he turned it off. “I set a reminder. We need to get moving.”

I looked down at the plates of eggs that had gone cold, and probably a little rubbery. “You still hungry?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah,” I said, smiling as I picked up a fork, and began to shovel in eggs.

He grinned, did the same thing. And for a moment, we were kids again, supernaturally hungry and unselfconscious about the need.

“Oh,” he said, swallowing a mouthful. “And since I cooked, you have to do the dishes.”

Dammit.

***

The resort was quiet when we walked back toward the lodge. There were lights along the path, but the firepits hadn’t yet been lit. These shifters didn’t appear to be early risers.

“Let me take the lead with the elders,” Connor said. “They know you’re coming; they’ve been informed. But that doesn’t mean they won’t play insular and offended.”

“Well,” I said resignedly, “this will be a fun wake-up call.”

We took the stairs to the lodge’s porch, magic growing stronger as we entered the building. We followed the sounds of talking and conversation to the lobby, where a dozen shifters lounged on worn leather furniture. There was a fireplace on one side of the room and a bookshelf on another, and they flanked a third wall of windows that overlooked a large lawn.


Tags: Chloe Neill Heirs of Chicagoland Paranormal