Novak Raven (Harper's Mountains Book 4) Read online

  “Hello?” It was hard to hear because there was so much talking in the background—men’s murmured voices.

  “Mom, it’s me.”

  Immediately, Mom’s voice dipped to a whisper. “Avery, this isn’t a good time.”

  “Is the council at your house?”

  “What?” A beat of silence, then, “How did you know? Are you back in The Hollow?” Mom was probably at the window, peeking through the blinds.

  “I need to ask you something.”

  “I can’t really talk right now. Your father, he’s… I can’t talk.”

  “That’s fine, then just answer my question yes or no, okay?”

  Mom didn’t answer, but that was fine.

  “Am I bait for the Novak Raven?”

  More silence.

  “Mom? You owe me this. Just tell me. Am I bait for the Novak Raven?”

  “Y-yes,” Mom stuttered out. Her voice had gone all soft.

  In that moment, Avery’s heart broke. She’d thought this thing with Weston, this innate instinct to be close to him, was her own doing. It was her heart latching onto a man she cared for, but it wasn’t just her in this. How much of her feelings were from manipulation from the people who were supposed to protect her? From the people who were supposed to love her?

  “How long?” she whispered.

  Mom’s breath was hitching, as though she was about to sob.

  “Please tell me,” Avery begged, needing to know. “How long have I been the lure?”

  “For always.”

  Avery gasped and hung up the phone, handed it to Weston in a rush so she didn’t have to touch the damn thing anymore. This couldn’t be happening. But then, a hundred things made sense at once. Dad always taking secret meetings. Mom’s relieved smile whenever Avery had brought up Weston’s name throughout the years. The constant encouragement to rekindle a relationship with him. The council asking her questions about the Novak Raven when she was younger. So many meetings to interview her. The feeling that she didn’t belong, like she was just an object. So many times she’d been pulled from school, or from her life, for meetings with the council. She’d thought it was because of her broken raven, so they could make sure she was progressing like she was supposed to, but now that she looked back, it was so obvious. Her meetings always ended with discussions about the Novak Raven. And she’d answered because she’d trusted her people. She’d trusted them to have her best interest in mind, and honestly, it felt good to openly talk about how much she liked Weston. How much she respected him. Bond, bond, bond. She’d grown up thinking she’d bonded to him just through letters, but maybe that was just what the council had told her. Perhaps they’d convinced her she belonged to the Novak Raven. That her fate was to be with him. Maybe her feelings weren’t real at all.

  Bait.

  Avery fell forward on her hands and knees and retched. Weston’s hand was gentle on her back, right between her shoulder blades, but she didn’t want the comfort. Didn’t deserve it. “Don’t touch me,” she said, wincing away from him.

  “Avery,” he murmured softly.

  She bolted upright to escape him. “No wonder you hated me. No wonder!” Her shoulders shook with her weeping, but who cared if she embarrassed herself now? He hadn’t ever been hers to begin with…and could never be because she was nothing. She was born to betray him.

  Weston stood slowly, his hands out like he was settling a wild horse. “I didn’t ever hate you. I was hurt, and I lashed out the only way I knew how.”

  “By ignoring me, and that’s fine. You had every right to pretend I was invisible because that’s what I am.” Her breath hitched. “I’m nothing.”

  He was to her in an instant. His arms crushed her as she struggled to escape his embrace. She fought and fought, but he was so strong—so much stronger than her.

  When her muscles were fatigued and twitching and she was too weary to fight anymore… When she was completely defeated, she sagged against him and let off a long, heartbroken sound and whispered again, “I’m nothing.”

  “You aren’t. I swear you aren’t, Avery. I see you.”

  She clutched onto his damp shirt and squeezed her eyes tightly because it felt so damn good to hear someone say that. And not just someone, but the someone. Her someone.

  “I’m in a riptide, Weston. I’ve been pulled under for so long, and I’m being thrashed by the waves and dragged down by the current, but I’m still swimming, you know? I’m watching these bubbles racing to the surface, and if I can just follow them, maybe I’ll breathe again. Maybe I’ll be okay. But it’s been too long. I can’t breathe, and it’s been too long.”

  The rasp of Weston’s jaw felt good against her face as he lowered his lips to her ear. “Fuck the council, and fuck everyone who has hurt you, Ave. Someday, you’re gonna rise up from the ashes like a fucking phoenix. Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”

  Like a phoenix? Her? No way. She was weak, and the mud she’d been wallowing in was too heavy on her wings. She couldn’t rise up. Not her. “My whole life has been a lie. I’m all alone with nothing.” She let off a long, shuttering breath and admitted how screwed she was. “My car broke down.”

  “I’ll fix it.” His voice sounded so determined. So sure.

  And dammit, here was her shot to unload all her burdens on a strong man who could shoulder them. “I don’t have any money, and I haven’t been able to afford much food.”

  “I’ll feed you.”

  Her eyes prickled and burned because no one had ever been this kind to her. But there was an even bigger shame, and right now, she wanted to tell him everything. “I’ve been sleeping in my car.”

  “I know.” Weston eased back and cupped her cheeks, his calloused hands rough against her skin. His eyes were dark under the brim of his hat. “I saw the pillow and the blanket in your back seat. I have a place for you to stay. Somewhere dry and warm where you can be alone and safe, and no one will bother you.”

  “I don’t want your charity.”

  “Then we won’t call it charity. Call it me making up for leaving you alone when you needed a friend.”

  “Friend.” She hated the sound of that, but that’s all they could ever be. She’d been born to betray him after all.

  Weston’s jaw clenched as he pressed his body gently against hers. His hands drifted from her cheeks to her neck, and a strange intensity sparked in his eyes. “I want to kiss you right now, but it doesn’t feel right.”

  Avery froze. “Okay, I understand. Wait, no I don’t. Why doesn’t it feel right to kiss me?” Because she really wanted him to kiss her right now.

  “Because you are dealing with a lot right now, finding out about the council and your car, and the—”

  Avery pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed him. Way too hard. She basically bit him. Mortified, she lurched away, ducked her gaze, and apologized.

  Weston rubbed his bottom lip like it hurt, but his mouth was stretching into a smile. He was laughing at her again, and she wanted to crawl into a hole and hide for the rest of her life.

  But instead of making fun, he squared up to her, rested his hands on her waist, and dragged her body to his. And slowly, so slowly, he leaned down and pressed his lips onto hers. Fireworks were going off in her belly as she slid her arms around his neck and parted her lips for his searching tongue. He stayed gentle, drawing out the kiss as his mouth moved smoothly against hers in rhythmic strokes that turned the fireworks to an erupting volcano. This was it—the best kiss she’d ever had, and it was with the Novak Raven. It was with her Weston. Her inner raven was practically crowing with happiness inside of her.

  The rain was falling harder, soaking her hair and clothes, but she didn’t care about that. She didn’t care about anything but how Weston was gripping the fabric of her dress as if he wanted more. And the way his lips were turning urgent against hers, the way his body felt, the way his erection pressed onto her belly, she’d done that—drawn this reaction from him. Her, the broken raven. />
  Weston thrust his tongue into her mouth one last time, then jerked away. “I’m sorry. This is… It’s just I saw your tits, and I really like your tits, and your other parts, too, but your tits are fuckin’ phenomenal. Just…” He held his cupped hands out over her chest. “Perfect.”

  Clearly, Weston was a boob-man.

  He cleared his throat and frowned. “And also you’re nice, sweet, and pretty.”

  But boobs had topped his list. Despite the gravity of her dire situation, she laughed. It wasn’t a soft polite one either, but a surprised, from-the-core bellowing laugh that drew her up short. She covered her mouth with her hand to hide her giggles. She should not be laughing right now, not with all the bad shit she’d just found out about her life, but Weston was chuckling, too, and all that did was make her laugh harder.

  Eyes dancing and dimple deep in his cheek, Weston took his camouflage baseball cap off and put it on backward. He twisted around and looked through the woods in the direction of the road. “I feel…” He inhaled deeply and sighed. “I feel too damn much right now, honestly, but I need to get you warm and dry and fed, okay?”

  “Wes, I’m not your responsibility.”

  “No, but it would make me feel…good…to take care of you.” His smile slipped into a frown. Looking confused as hell, he rested his hands on his hips. “Right. You don’t have a bra on, and I can see through your dress. Your nipples are perfect, and we should go.” In a rush he pulled off his long-sleeve flannel shirt and wadded it up into a ball, then handed it to her, his eyes averted.

  Stunned, Avery took it gently from his offered hand and cradled it to her chest. It smelled like his cologne.

  With a quick dick adjustment, he spun on his heel and strode off through the wilderness, leaving Avery to stare down in surprise at her chest. Sure enough, her nipples were drawn up against the soaking white fabric of her cotton dress.

  She’d just found out her entire life was a complete lie, and in the same five minutes got the kiss she’d always dreamed about from the man who had stolen her heart all those years ago with nothing more than written words on a page. Maybe the council had something to do with her feelings, she didn’t know. But they didn’t have everything to do with them. This right here—this moment they’d shared together—was important.

  Shaking her head at the strange turn her life had taken, Avery followed Weston’s receding figure through the woods and to her car.

  She’d never seen Weston stammer or struggle for words, but he had just had the cutest man-freak-out she’d ever witnessed, and all caused by her.

  She had no idea why, but she, Avery Foley—relative nobody, bait, and broken raven—had somehow managed to fluster Weston Novak.

  Chapter Nine

  By the time Avery reached the road, Weston had the hood of her car popped open and resting on the prop. He was talking low into his phone, shielding the little device from the rain by using the hood as an umbrella. His black T-shirt was plastered to him like a second skin, and his back muscles rippled as he poked and prodded around the innards of her car.

  It was raining in earnest now. Avery didn’t normally like the feel of chilled skin and damp clothes, but standing here on the side of the road, watching Weston try to save her, was kind of beautiful.

  Weston’s dark eyebrows were lowered in concentration, and his lips were so sensual as he spoke into the cell. His baseball cap was wet, there was a constant drip-drip of rainwater falling from the bill to trickle down his back, and his boots were covered in mud.

  He’d come for her.

  He’d left his birthday celebration and followed her, tracked her through the woods, and without a single plea from her, was taking the reins of her chaotic life for a minute so she could rest her weary mind. And damn, it felt so good not to have to worry about anything for tonight, because every instinct in her said Weston would take care of her. Perhaps not for always, and perhaps only as friends, but that was better than nothing.

  His triceps flexed as he pushed on something inside of her car, and when he muttered a curse, she asked, “Can I do anything?”

  “Nah, and neither can I tonight. Your battery is older than dinosaur shit, your belt is shot, and your engine didn’t even try to turn over for me. Maybe it’s just the battery, but I don’t like how it died mid-ride on you.”

  “Oh.” She wrung her hands and tried to imagine how much all of this would cost to repair at an auto shop. How discouraging that her first paycheck and probably more would already be blown.

  “I can get it running again, but I need parts and can’t get them until tomorrow. I’ll call the police station and tell them we’ll tow it to Harper’s Mountains in the morning so they won’t give you a ticket tonight. You can ride with me.”

  “But you have tours tomorrow,” she said. “Weston, I appreciate you helping me, but I won’t risk your new business for this.”

  Weston jerked his gaze to hers, and a flash of surprise was there in his eyes. Then they softened, and he let off a slight smile just before he gave his attention back to lowering the hood of her car. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll take care of it after the tours are done for the day.”

  “Okay.” She wanted to say so much more than that. She wanted to tell him how much this all meant to her, how relieved she was that he wasn’t mad at her anymore. She wanted to tell him if he ever needed anything—anything at all—she would gladly do it. But he was locked onto her with his gaze again, and her words got all caught up in her throat. His eyes were the pitch black that hers turned when her raven was riled up, and his lips were pursed, as though he was trying to figure her out.

  He looked beautiful here in the soft glow of the streetlight behind him. Beautiful? That was an impossible word for a man who was strapped with muscles and covered in tattoos, but he was. He was her beautiful raven man. This moment right here felt like she was falling. Not sinking in the mud that had taken over her life, but the feeling she got when she dove from a great height and spread her wings at the last minute, when her stomach dipped to the ground and made her want to laugh and yell with happiness. She had always been intrigued and a little intimidated by Weston Novak, but now she was falling hard for him.

  Instead of telling him all of her mushy thoughts, she parted her lips and said, “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he asked, a slight frown furrowing his brows.

  For the kiss and for coming after me. For holding me when I found out my life was a lie. For telling me everything will be okay. For all the letters that saved me when I was a kid. For being you.

  He wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment, though, so instead she said the only other words that felt right. “Thank you for everything.”

  When one corner of his lip turned up, her breath stuttered in her chest. So damn stunning.

  Weston jerked his chin toward his truck parked at an angle on the side of the deserted road. “Get in and turn on the heat. I’ll grab your stuff.”

  “Okay,” she murmured, her legs and arms feeling numb with what had transpired in the woods. She’d thought her life was over, thought the darkness was swallowing her up, but Weston had come in and, like a beacon of light, absorbed the darkness and took the impossible weight off her heart.

  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 end
ed 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, fuck the ravens, and fuck 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.”