Now, sit.”
Jane was glad to sink into a chair. Her toes had gone numb thanks to the heels and the idea that she might be a criminal had taken her breath away. For a moment, she just breathed and blinked, processing everything. The air was warm, the sky clear. Birds chirped and bees buzzed in the distance. Inhaling a deep breath, Jane smelled flowers and the way heat dried out the earth’s scent.
“It’s lovely out here,” she said, feeling a moment of peace for the first time since she’d woken up at Crescent Pines.
“It’s quiet,” said Tillie. “Hardly anyone comes out here.”
“Why not?” Jane frowned. The interior of the nursing home was full of institutional beige and blue and smelled of hand lotion and sweat. The fresh air was a perfume she couldn’t get enough of. “If I lived here, I would be out here all the time.”
“You do live here. For now, anyway,” Tillie said.
Jane grimaced. “Oh. That’s right. I do, don’t I?”
“And you’re young. This isn’t cold to you, but for us it is. Even though shifters run warm, in our old age we are more human than we like to admit.” Turning her attention to Ryder, she said, “So, how are things going at home?”
Ryder glanced at Jane. “You want to do this with her here?”
Tillie nodded. “Yep.”
“You don’t even know her.”
“I know her enough.”
Jane frowned. “How can you say that? I don’t even know who I am.”
“You smell nice.” Before Ryder could protest, Tillie raised her hand. “I was the alpha’s mate, young man. I know the mettle of a soul just by smelling it.”
“And just like that, she gets to know all our secrets?” A furrow made a deep line in Ryder’s forehead. "She's a stranger."
“I can go back inside.” Jane pushed herself out of her chair and swayed on her heels as she adjusted to gravity once again. She didn’t even know her own secrets. The last thing she wanted was to take on anyone else’s.
“Stay, dear. I wanted to smell how you and Ryder would mix.” Tillie sniffed. “The scents are good. You two should spend some time together.”
Ryder groaned. “Grandma, stop trying to fix me up.”
“I’m not fixing you up.” Tillie glared at her grandson, obviously insulted. “I am following my nose.” She tapped the side of the organ in question. “In my day, I brought many a couple together. And they were the matings that lasted. None of this abusive crap that we see with Mason and his crew.” She waved her hand, her lips curled with disgust.
Jane went still. Something scratched at the surface of her memory, poking and tickling, but never quite coming together. “Did you say Mason?”
“Yes, why?” Wariness flashed in Ryder's eyes.
“That name means something to me, but I don’t know what.” She gave both Tillie and Ryder a wide-eyed look. “Do I know him somehow?”
“I don’t recognize you, so you’re not from our pack,” Ryder said.
“And he’s abusive?” She shuddered at the idea of violence. When she blinked she saw a fist coming straight for her and her head suddenly throbbed, as if her memory itself had punched her. “He has something to do with me. I think...he hit me.” She collapsed back into her chair, stunned.
Ryder pulled out his phone and scrolled through various screens for a second. Then, handing it over to her, he asked, “Do you recognize him? This is Mason.”
Jane stared at the swarthy man in the picture. His broad forehead featured thick eyebrows that led to a wide nose and a full mouth. Even though it was hard to gauge height on the phone screen, she could tell he was big, at least when it came to muscles. But did she know him? “I-I’m not sure. Maybe.” She returned the phone to Ryder and started rubbing her temples.
“Are you okay, child?” Tillie asked.
Jane nodded. “Yeah. My head hurts. This must be too much or something. I don’t know.” She didn’t think the brain could strain like a muscle did, but she definitely felt
Jane was glad to sink into a chair. Her toes had gone numb thanks to the heels and the idea that she might be a criminal had taken her breath away. For a moment, she just breathed and blinked, processing everything. The air was warm, the sky clear. Birds chirped and bees buzzed in the distance. Inhaling a deep breath, Jane smelled flowers and the way heat dried out the earth’s scent.
“It’s lovely out here,” she said, feeling a moment of peace for the first time since she’d woken up at Crescent Pines.
“It’s quiet,” said Tillie. “Hardly anyone comes out here.”
“Why not?” Jane frowned. The interior of the nursing home was full of institutional beige and blue and smelled of hand lotion and sweat. The fresh air was a perfume she couldn’t get enough of. “If I lived here, I would be out here all the time.”
“You do live here. For now, anyway,” Tillie said.
Jane grimaced. “Oh. That’s right. I do, don’t I?”
“And you’re young. This isn’t cold to you, but for us it is. Even though shifters run warm, in our old age we are more human than we like to admit.” Turning her attention to Ryder, she said, “So, how are things going at home?”
Ryder glanced at Jane. “You want to do this with her here?”
Tillie nodded. “Yep.”
“You don’t even know her.”
“I know her enough.”
Jane frowned. “How can you say that? I don’t even know who I am.”
“You smell nice.” Before Ryder could protest, Tillie raised her hand. “I was the alpha’s mate, young man. I know the mettle of a soul just by smelling it.”
“And just like that, she gets to know all our secrets?” A furrow made a deep line in Ryder’s forehead. "She's a stranger."
“I can go back inside.” Jane pushed herself out of her chair and swayed on her heels as she adjusted to gravity once again. She didn’t even know her own secrets. The last thing she wanted was to take on anyone else’s.
“Stay, dear. I wanted to smell how you and Ryder would mix.” Tillie sniffed. “The scents are good. You two should spend some time together.”
Ryder groaned. “Grandma, stop trying to fix me up.”
“I’m not fixing you up.” Tillie glared at her grandson, obviously insulted. “I am following my nose.” She tapped the side of the organ in question. “In my day, I brought many a couple together. And they were the matings that lasted. None of this abusive crap that we see with Mason and his crew.” She waved her hand, her lips curled with disgust.
Jane went still. Something scratched at the surface of her memory, poking and tickling, but never quite coming together. “Did you say Mason?”
“Yes, why?” Wariness flashed in Ryder's eyes.
“That name means something to me, but I don’t know what.” She gave both Tillie and Ryder a wide-eyed look. “Do I know him somehow?”
“I don’t recognize you, so you’re not from our pack,” Ryder said.
“And he’s abusive?” She shuddered at the idea of violence. When she blinked she saw a fist coming straight for her and her head suddenly throbbed, as if her memory itself had punched her. “He has something to do with me. I think...he hit me.” She collapsed back into her chair, stunned.
Ryder pulled out his phone and scrolled through various screens for a second. Then, handing it over to her, he asked, “Do you recognize him? This is Mason.”
Jane stared at the swarthy man in the picture. His broad forehead featured thick eyebrows that led to a wide nose and a full mouth. Even though it was hard to gauge height on the phone screen, she could tell he was big, at least when it came to muscles. But did she know him? “I-I’m not sure. Maybe.” She returned the phone to Ryder and started rubbing her temples.
“Are you okay, child?” Tillie asked.
Jane nodded. “Yeah. My head hurts. This must be too much or something. I don’t know.” She didn’t think the brain could strain like a muscle did, but she definitely felt
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