Page 4 of Queen of Rebels (Shifters of Sherwood #3)

The badge catches another glint of sunlight. Such a small thing to make my throat close up, to send my thoughts spinning in useless circles. Zayn's shoulders curve inward, defensive, his uniform hanging wrinkled on his frame. Dark circles rim his eyes, matching the exhaustion I saw in my reflection this morning.

I take a step back. The leaves whisper beneath my feet.

“Wait.” His voice comes quiet, rough around the edges. He clears his throat. "I'm not here to—" The words fade. He tries again. "They don't know where you are. Any of you."

The stream keeps flowing. A jay calls somewhere above us, the sound sharp against the morning quiet. My fingers curl against my palms, seeking an anchor that isn't there.

"Are you—" My voice comes out wrong. I try again. "Did they hurt you?"

His smile doesn't reach his eyes. Before he can answer, leaves rustle behind me—purposefully loud. A warning. Three sets of footsteps approach, each distinct as a fingerprint: LJ's steady weight, Tuck's careful precision, Will's natural grace.

"Maren." LJ's voice carries a growl beneath the surface. His presence fills the space behind my right shoulder, solid as a wall. "You were gone too long."

Tuck circles left, wolf-quiet, taking in every detail. His gaze catches on Zayn's uniform, lingers on the badge. The air grows thick with unspoken questions.

"Interesting choice of attire." Will's words fall soft and cold as snow. "Given recent events."

"I can explain," Zayn says quickly.

"I really fucking hope you can," Will snaps. "Because otherwise, you're here to arrest us."

"I'm not," Zayn insists. "Look, it's—" He rubs his temple, looking like he’s slept about as well as the rest of us, which is to say, not very well. "You think I don't know how this looks? I spent three days in their custody. Three days watching them parade Rob past my cell, bleeding, barely conscious...” He trails off, blows out a breath. “In the woods. When we split up. They caught me. Hauled me in, questioned me. I don't think the deputies who nabbed me knew who I was as a former colleague or" —he gestures vaguely toward us— "one of you."

He continues hurriedly, the joke falling flat. "They asked me dumb questions, tried to rough me up a bit. Nothing I couldn’t withstand. But then they brought in someone from the DA’s office, and..."

"And then Guy figured it out," I finish for him.

Zayn swallows hard. "He made me a deal," he says. "He’d give me my job back, because that’s what I wanted, right?" He lets out a hollow laugh. "Give me my job back, and all I’d have to do is come back to you guys and act as his personal mole." His voice catches. He swallows. "I took the deal because it was that or watch them destroy him piece by piece."

Will moves closer to my shoulder. "And we're meant to believe you had no other options?"

"Options?" Something raw edges into Zayn's voice. "Like what? Break out? Run? Leave Rob there alone?" His hands clench, unclench. "You weren't there. You didn't see what they—" He stops, draws a careful breath. "I made a choice. The only choice I could live with."

Tuck's pale eyes narrow, cataloging every micro-expression that crosses Zayn's face. "What exactly does Guy expect you to tell him?"

"Movement patterns. Hideout locations. But I won’t. Obviously, I won’t! Or I’ll feed him bullshit. Probably come up with something creative, throw them off the trail. Come on. You know I’m on your side."

"I don’t know that we do," Will says tartly. He’s starting to piss me off, so I jam my foot into his instep.

"Ow!" Will cries.

"I do," I say for emphasis. "Rob trusts Zayn, and I trust Zayn. Besides, if he had flipped for the sheriff, why wouldn’t he be arresting us right now?"

Will sighs. "I don’t know. Manners?"

"She’s right," Zayn says. "And besides, I figured if I could find you guys again, I could be useful. Get you information or supplies or..." He shrugs. "Be a double agent for you. Be useful.”

"That’s clever," Will says. "I’ll give it to you.”

“Useful." LJ snorts. "All right. Prove it." He jerks his head toward the cabin. "Why don’t you tell us everything you know?"

Zayn doesn’t know much, but what he does know isn’t encouraging.

"They’ve seized the house," he says. "It’s still crawling with Wheatley’s guys. I imagine they’re picking it over for anything they want to conveniently 'seize as evidence’”—he draws air quotes—“and keeping it for their own personal collections. Then maybe they’ll eventually get around to investigating any actual traces of criminal activity."

He folds his hands, surveying all of us in turn. No one says anything. Me, because I genuinely don’t know what kind of evidence there might even be. The others, because, well, I guess they don’t want to incriminate themselves if they don’t have to.

In the silence, Zayn lets out a low whistle and glances around the house. "Quite a change of digs you’ve got here, huh? Not exactly the Taj Mahal you’re used to."

"Don’t start," I warn him, glancing at Will. "We’re lucky we found it."

"No argument here," Zayn says. “Stumbling across that tunnel? I mean, damn.”

“We’re lucky we survived, too,” Tuck puts in.

“Agreed,” Zayn says. “Wasn’t sure if I’d find you upright and breathing or lying in a ditch somewhere. This definitely beats a ditch.

"What else can you tell us?" Will asks, steering us back to the point.

"What kind of access do you have?" Tuck clarifies. "Computer systems? Logins?”

“Got any weapons?” LJ adds.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Zayn says. "I can get plenty of information if I know what you’re looking for. I’m gonna have to cover my tracks, but sure. Other than that...man, I don’t know. I’ve got my radio. I’ve got a login for files. I can pull anything not too suspicious looking, and I know everything the rest of the deputies do. But...what exactly are you trying to do now?"

Again, no answer from the guys. For some reason, their eyes all settle on me. My fingers uncurl from my shirt hem. The fabric is wrinkled where I've been gripping it.

"Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it?" I say. "We need to rescue Rob."

"Maren." Will's voice gentles, the way it does when he's about to say something I won't like. "Rob wouldn't want—"

"Rob's not here." My hands are steady now. The morning air settles cool against my skin. "That's the point."

LJ shifts his weight, floorboards creaking under them. "His priority would be keeping you safe."

"And my priority is getting him back." I like the feeling of speaking the truth. I keep it up, talking faster. “I know he’s injured, but if we can get to him, I can heal him enough to shift. That's all we need—just enough for him to run with us."

Tuck's pale eyes track something in the distance, calculations running behind them. "The risk factors—"

"Are mine to take." The certainty feels strange in my chest, like a key turning in a lock I didn't know was there. "Rob's not here to lead. That means I am."

The silence stretches. Outside, a bird calls, sharp and clear. The guys exchange glances, having one of those wordless conversations that used to make me feel like an outsider. Now I read it easily: surprise, concern, respect.

"Okay." Tuck says it first, quiet and firm. LJ nods once, decisive. Will's fingers brush my shoulder, a touch light as morning frost but solid with promise.

I turn to Zayn. His badge catches the light one last time, a wink against dark fabric. "Get back to the station. Learn everything you can about where they're keeping him, the guard rotations, security systems.” My voice comes softer now, but no less certain. "Then find us."

He holds my gaze for a long moment. Something flickers behind his eyes—too quick to read, gone before I can name it. Then he nods.

“Copy that.”

The door slams behind him as he goes, and the rest of us stand silent.

“Think he’ll come back?” LJ grunts.

“Hope so,” Tuck says, just as Will says “Doubt it.”

“He will,” I say. And I believe it.

I have to.