Reflected (Silver Series) Read Online Free Page B

properly to Tom once he was awake, but beyond that, what else was she supposed to do? Promise not to do it again? Of course she wasn’t going to run out on the road again. She hadn’t even meant to do it then, she’d just got so caught up in the game of it all, running before Silver arrived and figured out what they’d been doing—
    Felicia stuttered a step. She’d forgotten about that in her worry about Tom. Did Silver know? John knew, definitely. Would they tell her father? Surely he wouldn’t come down on Tom, not injured as he was. As long as Tom didn’t get in trouble, Felicia would be happy to take whatever consequences her father dished out.
    Felicia tried to lead Silver around to the passenger side of the truck, but Silver dropped her wrist at the back and climbed up beside Tom. After a moment of hesitation, Felicia threw Silver the treats and closed the tailgate and canopy. She’d wanted to ride with Tom, but better the cab than awkward silence in the back.
    The passenger side door never shut properly on Tom’s truck unless you slammed it, which usually amused Felicia, because the driver’s side was the junkyard replacement of the wrong color. Felicia had to open and slam it again before it caught, but John waited patiently, not starting the engine.
    The silence was pretty damn awkward up here too, she realized. She turned and faced straight ahead out the windshield into an overenthusiastic bush at the edge of the parking lot, but John still didn’t turn the key.
    “Playing chasing games as well as literally chasing, were we?” he said. Felicia stayed stubbornly silent and stared at the bush. He knew the answer already. Was she supposed to apologize for that too? That wasn’t the part she’d done wrong.
    He snorted. “And a bonus game of ‘piss off your father.’” He turned the key and the truck cranked into reluctant life. “Tom doesn’t deserve to be part of that game, especially now. I didn’t smell anything—this time. You two start playing chase regularly, someone’s going to tell Roanoke Dare.”
    “Someone like you?” Felicia muttered in Spanish. It was childish, but her father liked to nag her about the rudeness of speaking in a language others couldn’t understand. Even though he wasn’t here, flicking her tail at him that way still made her feel better.
    John didn’t seem terribly insulted by her Spanish. “Lady preserve us from roamers who haven’t left yet,” he commented generally to the air and turned his attention to driving in silence.
    Felicia twisted to look back into the bed through glass dimmed by grime too ingrained to wipe away. She had no idea what that was supposed to mean. She wasn’t some kind of lone, wandering around without a pack. Maybe in North America that was an insult.
    John drove over a set of railroad tracks and growled in frustration along with Felicia. Silver kept Tom braced, but he was still jarred enough that his head came up groggily. Silver murmured reassurances and dumped some treats onto her palm for him. He accepted them delicately.
    Felicia let a breath of relief trickle out, hopefully slow enough John wouldn’t notice. At least Tom was all right. Maybe the talk her father would undoubtedly want to have would go well too. Felicia doubted it.

 
    3
    Silver could see the concern in her mate’s face when they arrived, but John must have warned him, because he didn’t look surprised at Tom’s condition. Tom insisted on walking inside on his own four feet, the food having done his healing some good already. Dare walked beside him into the den but didn’t support him, all confidence-inspiring alpha in his manner.
    If Silver watched very carefully, she could see the slight hesitation in Dare’s step from old injuries of his own. It added to the gravity created by the white locks at his temples, stark against his otherwise dark hair. His wild self, pacing beside Tom’s, showed his scars plain to see in its fur—though of course Silver