Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
He abruptly broke off when his gaze finally collided with mine.
I didn’t move or speak. I simply let my polar bleed up through me. Just enough to flash gold in my eyes and make the air tremble with the threat of what lived inside my skin.
He recognized the warning immediately. Predatory stillness in a shifter was a language the locals knew.
I’d never hurt him. Rowan wouldn’t want that. But the way he’d spoken to her already told me everything I needed to know about this man. He had failed the most basic test by disrespecting my mate.
I kept my stance relaxed, but every muscle in my body was coiled and ready. Her parents had arrived uninvited and already shouting. They wouldn't hurt my mate, not while I was breathing.
Rowan shook her head with a sigh. “Dad, you can try to contest the will if you want, but Gerald said he didn’t expect any issues with filing the final paperwork today.”
Her father scoffed, puffing up his chest to make himself look bigger. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Attorneys in this town—”
I cut him off before he gathered any more steam.
“Gerald doesn’t miss deadlines.”
The words came out low, but I didn’t bother hiding the steel behind them. Her father flinched, his gaze darting toward me.
I leaned casually against the doorframe, letting the weight of my presence settle over him. “I’m sure it’s already done.”
Rowan’s mom blinked. “Done?”
I couldn’t help the hint of satisfaction in my tone as I added, “Even with the storm, I have no doubt he was at the office when the sun came up this morning.”
Owl shifters practically lived for predawn hours. Gerald probably filed everything before most humans had even rolled over in bed. He loved beating everyone to the punch.
Her father muttered under his breath, “Figures you’d end up with one of them.”
Rowan inhaled sharply. “Dad.”
Her mother frowned. “One of whom?”
Her father straightened so fast he almost fell over. His gaze cut to me again, finally remembering the rules humans were expected to follow in Timber Ridge. Keeping our existence a secret was at the top.
“Nothing, dear.” He shook his head. “It’s just a shame our daughter wants to tie herself to someone from Timber Ridge. And stay here, in this place.”
Rowan’s mother wrinkled her nose as though the rustic cottage had personally offended her. I felt Rowan tense beside me, embarrassment flickering through the bond.
I moved forward, just one step. But it was enough to make the floorboards creak and her father stumble back like prey. “Don’t come back here unless she asks you to.”
Her father went pale. My message was received.
Her mother blinked, oblivious. “We’ll talk later, sweetheart.”
Rowan managed a stiff nod.
I stood there until they retreated down the porch steps, her father pulling his wife along with a shaky urgency that my polar found deeply satisfying.
Rowan exhaled shakily beside me, but I didn’t look away from the window until their taillights disappeared through the snow.
“Well, at least we got you meeting my parents out of the way.”
I closed the door, turned to my mate, and murmured, “They won’t bother you again.”
“I suppose that’s another advantage to staying in Timber Ridge,” she murmured. “Not that I see them that often anyway. We live in the same city, but I think it’s been almost two years. I can’t even remember the last time they came to my apartment. Never in my wildest imagination did I expect them to show up here like that.”
I reached for my mate and pulled her against my chest. Her head tucked beneath my chin, and I rubbed my hand up and down her back, feeling her settle against me.
“They won’t surprise you like that again,” I promised quietly. “If you want to see them, it’ll be on your terms.”
Her arms circled my waist, holding on for a long while. When she finally drew back, Rowan looked around the cottage like she was seeing it not as a place she inherited but somewhere she could live.
“I think it’ll be a while before I’m ready to talk to them again. Especially my dad.”
The bond pulsed with her pain. I cupped her cheek, offering her quiet comfort.
She took a small breath. “I found letters that my grandmother wrote to me. Years of them. I want to read all of them before I decide anything about my parents. I feel like I missed so much by not knowing her before she died.”
“There are a lot of people in Timber Ridge who remember Eleanor. They’d be happy to tell you their stories.”
Her eyes brightened at the offer. “I’d love that.”
“The thing I remember most about her,” I murmured, brushing my thumb along her jaw, “is the sourdough bread she baked. She said her starter was decades old.”
Rowan’s eyes went wide. “Really? I love baking bread too. Maybe I got it from her.”