Free Blackwing Defender (Kane's Mountains Book 1) by T. S. Joyce Page A

a fragile-winged butterfly nonetheless. What chance did she have against the storm that raged within him?
    Winter was his mate, a desperation-claim after just a few hours of knowing her, but he could never, ever tell her that. Nothing had changed from this morning until now. Logan was still on a straight path to Hell, and she deserved better than another mate who would leave her alone in the world.

Chapter Eight
     
    Logan was toweling off his dark hair in front of the mirror, but Winter didn’t miss his anxiety. He tossed a narrow-eyed glare over his shoulder as her phone vibrated in her purse again. She’d been doing a damn fine job of ignoring it, but Logan’s attention had her instincts riled up. With a sigh, she quickly pulled on the T-shirt Logan had brought her. Apparently, he was staying a few doors down and had his luggage already sitting in his room, which would explain how he had tracked her down so easily. There weren’t many motels around here.
    Mentally preparing herself, Winter sat on the edge of the bed and plucked her phone from her purse. One glance at the screen, though, and she frowned at all the missed calls—nine of them. None from Brody, all from Ben.
    “It’s the alpha from Red Havoc,” she murmured in quick explanation as she connected a call to him.
    “Where the fuck are you?” Ben asked on the first ring without a greeting.
    “A motel. Why?”
    “Kane called, asking if you quit the interview process already. He’s almost done with group interviews. Please tell me you didn’t already walk away.”
    “Brody texted me.”
    “Shhhit. Winter, don’t come back here for him.”
    “I’m not! I’m just telling you what’s happening with your crew. He’s one day married and reaching out to me, Ben. The entire point of this was for me to move on, right?”
    “I’ll order him to leave you alone if you just stay and try for the Blackwing Crew.”
    Winter lifted the gray cotton sleeve of the T-shirt and studied the angry-looking claw marks across her arm. They were bright red and indented, but the bleeding had stopped, so there was that. “I’m headed to Kane’s territory now.”
    “Great!” Ben said, sounding pissed. “Don’t fuck this up.”
    The line went dead, and she tossed the cell into her purse and flipped it off. “We have to go. Group interviews are almost over.” She tossed Logan the keys to his smashed-up truck and smiled. “You can drive.”
    Logan snorted and shook his head as he made his way across the room to the door. “I was mad about you throwing an ice tea on it.” He threw it open and squinted into the sunlight. “Now look at her.”
    “Your truck is a her ?” she asked, following him outside.
    “Whoa, you sounded really judgmental right there.”
    “You keep it pristine. Women aren’t like that. We’re messy and complicated. Organized chaos.” She yanked the truck door open, spilling glass from the shattered window as she did. “What did you name her?”
    “Victoria.”
    Winter plucked glass pieces off the seat. “You have a big, badass, jacked-up truck and you named it Victoria.”
    “It’s a sexy name.” His voice was deep and low, but there was a tinge of amusement laced in it.
    “Well, sexy Victoria now looks haggard.”
    He winced as he looked down the side of his truck, the one he’d kept so polished and perfect. “I deserve that.”
    She made to climb up into the cab, but stopped herself, turned on a whim, and hugged his waist. Logan froze under her embrace, one hand gripping the top of the open door, the other thrust out in the air, palm up, as if he didn’t know how to hug her back. She thought he would soften over time, but he didn’t. He remained rigid until she slipped her hands off his waist and took a step back.
    Eyes downcast, he murmured, “You shouldn’t do that anymore.”
    “But you just held me in the shower,” she said, confused.
    “That was the last time we’ll be sharing anything like that. It would be best