Novak Raven (Harper's Mountains #4)(32)

She needed to become stronger before she took on a bond with him.

The sound of a truck engine rattled the house, and headlights flashed through the window. Four in the morning and Ryder was finally home from whatever vandalism he’d done in the name of anger. Weston’s best friend, his blood brother, would lose his shit if he admitted how much Avery already meant to him. He was already going to have hell to pay for keeping her a secret so long.

Avery hugged her pillow closer and made the cutest f*cking sleep sound Weston had ever heard in his life. He wouldn’t tell her he’d come back after he left so he could watch her sleep. He didn’t want to scare her, but he’d gone back to his cabin, avoided the hell out of sleep—or more specifically, visions—and snuck back into 1010 just to be close to her again.

He felt less volatile around her, which made no damn sense. He’d spent so many years angry at her, just pissed that she’d betrayed him. She’d been his first and only great betrayal, but finding out she hadn’t been a part of her peoples’ treachery had nuked the walls he’d put up. And now, instead of that slow build-up, he was completely overwhelmed with his feelings for her. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Not for flight shifters. Their bond wasn’t like the bears, right? But thinking back on Ma and Da’s relationship, he began to see things in a different light. His dad had bitten his mom, claimed her, and even though her raven didn’t necessarily need that, Beaston and Aviana Novak’s love story had always been one for the books. So many in Damon’s Mountains had looked up to them, or gone mushy in the face when they saw them hugging, kissing, or talking low, as if they were the only ones in the world.

Was that because Da was a bear shifter and capable of giving that bond?

Or was there some slim chance Weston could have that with Avery, despite them both being flight shifters?

He’d thought it was silly when Ryder had fallen so hard for Lexi. He’d thought his best friend was just falling head-over-heels again, and the bond was just some mythical thing for shifters like him and Ryder. But now he watched Ryder and Lexi, who was utterly human, and he could almost see the bond between them. He could sense it. He could tell when Ryder went too long without seeing Lexi, or touching her, because he went dimmer somehow.

In her sleep, Avery sighed a contented sound and smiled. “Save me,” she whispered.

Weston frowned and leaned closer. He waited, thinking he’d imagined it, but she parted her soft lips and said it again. “Save me, Weston.”

The walls of the cabin melted like burning metal, fading and exposing sterile, white walls behind them.

“No.” Weston pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes and then looked up again.

The floor melted into dingy, cracked white tiles, and the bed disappeared under Avery. She slammed to the ground but didn’t flinch at any pain. She lay in the middle of the empty room in a threadbare nightgown, her knees pulled up to her chest as she shivered uncontrollably. Her bare feet were dirty, and gooseflesh covered her body. She was frail and thin, her collar bones sticking out harshly under the neck of her gown. Mascara was smudged on her cheeks, and her eyes stared at him blankly. Her lips moved constantly.

“Avery?”

She gasped and began reciting words again.

Weston looked at the door. Maybe he could open it for her. Maybe he could let her out. There was no handle on this side, but there was something else. Something that chilled his blood to ice. Long claw marks were slashed deeply into the sheetrock on either side of the door. Some of them were bloody, and when he looked back at her hands, her nails were nothing but stubs.

He bolted for her, tried to cover her with his body, tried to keep her warm, tried to comfort her, but he couldn’t feel her. “Avery,” he repeated more frantically. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”

It was so f*cking cold in here. He’d never felt cold in his visions before, but it was uncomfortable in this one. Her lips were still moving, and her words were louder now, audible.

“I played shortstop in the baseball game on Thursday, and we won. It was our first win of the season, which is sad since most of the team is shifters and we were playing mostly human kids. Mason and Clinton took us out for pizza afterward. We all got suicides. Do you know what a suicide is? It’s a mix of all the different soft drinks in one cup. Clinton put whiskey in his when Mason wasn’t looking.”

Oh, God. He remembered this. He’d written this letter to her when he was twelve, maybe thirteen. She was reciting his words.

“Ryder ran away from home on Monday. He said he was tired of being grounded, but he only made it to the gas station right outside of Damon’s Mountains before he ran out of beef jerky. He didn’t even pack any underwear, and Mason was so mad he grounded him for another month. It’s really hard not to laugh at Ryder when he complains about it. So dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb,” she said, hiccupping on the word. A tear slid out of the corner of her eye and made a shallow splat on the tile under her cheek. “I can’t wait to get to meet you someday. I can’t wait to give you a hug and finally get to hear your voice in person. Avery, I think you are my second best friend. Friend, friend.” Her voice hitched. “Best friend.”

The floor shook, and the walls began to crack and crumble. No, he wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready for the vision to end. He wanted to stay here and be near her. He didn’t want her to be alone. The bloody claw marks split open on the wall, and deep cracks blasted down to the floor and through the tiles toward him.