Novak Raven (Harper's Mountains #4)(20)

And now the rough, quiet, dangerous Novak Raven was being so tender with her. Avery made her way through the mud to the passenger’s side of his truck and climbed in. It had been lifted a few inches and sat on fat mud tires, so she had to use the rails and scramble a bit to reach the seat, but when she was finally in, she turned on the car to get the heat going, as much for her as for Weston, so he could be comfortable when he got inside.

She canted her head and watched him pull her bedding and her suitcase from her car. He even slung her purse over his massive shoulder and made his way to her with long, confident strides. Something had changed in him. And when she looked down to turn the radio dial, the word Home was running across the screen with a phone number underneath, like he’d just ended the call. Home. His home? He must’ve called his father.

She frowned. No. He must’ve called his mother, Aviana Novak, because she was the one who would know the most about Avery. Chills rippled up her skin. She’d grown up idolizing Aviana, and whatever her heroine had said to Weston had made a difference in his opinion of her.

She’d never talked to Aviana except for the one meeting they had when she was young, and she remembered she wasn’t like the raven women she’d imagined. Aviana had sat straight and proud and had been angry, with her mother perhaps. Made sense now if Aviana had found out about the council’s treachery. Avery hated the idea that the council had read Weston’s letters. What must it have been like for Aviana to realize her own people were after her son? Avery felt sick just thinking about being a part of the council’s plan—whatever it was.

Weston shoved her things in the back seat and jogged around the front of the truck. Raindrops fell in a constant downpour in the high beams, and his ripped torso was illuminated as he passed through. When he climbed into his truck and pulled the belt over his lap, she asked him before she lost her nerve. “Did your mother change your mind about me?”

“No,” he said in that deep, rich voice of his. “I changed my mind about you.” He cast her a quick glance and smiled sadly. “I think we both got played. I think we both got hurt, and that shit ends now. Fuck the council, f*ck the ravens, and f*ck your parents. You’ll show them.”

Weston gunned it onto the asphalt, one hand draped easily over the steering wheel, one elbow resting on the console, the epitome of relaxed and confident male. Weston knew his place in this world. He was a raven shifter who had somehow clawed his way to the top of the food chain.

The last thing he said bothered her, though. You’ll show them. She was a fraud. “Do you know about the woman’s role in raven culture? Did your mother explain?”

Weston’s lips pursed into a thin line. “She told me a little.”

“Females aren’t allowed to have jobs. Not after your mom left. They didn’t want the flock scattering into the wind, so the rules changed. The goal is to keep females completely financially dependent on the males. They keep us so desperate for the things we need to survive that we’ll stay submissive and agree to marriage contracts.”

“Out of desperation.” Weston’s words were tainted with the hard edge of disgust.

“Out of desperation,” she agreed. “It’s hard to leave because we’re taught we can’t make it out in the real world without our mighty men to provide for us. We’re taught that our one duty, our one reason for existence, is to provide heirs and secure our place and rank in the community.” Ashamed, she lowered her voice. “So you see, I didn’t show them anything. I failed. I couldn’t provide for myself, and now you are coming to my rescue, a male raven, just like they said I needed.”

“Bullshit,” he drawled. “I didn’t give you the job, Avery. You fought for it. You earned it. Hell, I didn’t even want to give it to you, and you got it by being a stubborn pain in the ass. And you’ve worked hard and caught on quickly, and in a week, you’ll have that first paycheck and be on your way. Bullshit, you aren’t showing them. I’m calling it in two months. You’ll be on your own two feet creating a life despite your f*cked-up peoples’ horse-shittery.”

“Our.”

“What?”

“Our people.”

“Oooh no.” Weston shook his head hard. “Ravens aren’t my people. The Gray Backs are my people. The Bloodrunners are my people. Your animal doesn’t matter, Avery.”

“She does.”

“She doesn’t! You know that saying, blood is thicker than water? That works for some people, but you can’t choose your blood family. Some people just get dealt a shitty hand and are born into families who aren’t good people. You can make your own family, though. You can surround yourself with good people. And you will. I know you will.”

Shocked, Avery whispered, “You seem so certain. That makes one of us.”

Weston’s smile was crooked and easy when he took his eyes off the road just long enough to look at her. “You’ll be fine. You have a badass brawler raven inside of you, woman.”

Avery blinked hard in surprise. Aviana must’ve told him that little gem. “A brawler raven that never served me any good in Raven’s Hollow.”

“Screw Raven’s Hollow, Ave. Your raven will serve you well enough out here.”

The nickname made her sit straight up against the fabric seat. She’d never had a nickname before. Well, one that wasn’t a cuss word. “How do you know?”