Page 45 of Silver Elite

It can’t be.

There’s no way Cross Redden is Wolf.

There’s no conceivable way that could be possible.

He’s not Modified.

But his mother is.

I’m almost certain she is, but that doesn’t mean anything. A Mod parent is not guaranteed to produce a Mod child. Hell, two Primes aren’t even guaranteed to produce a Prime child. The mutation caused by the biotoxin lies dormant in some people. Anyone could be born like me, like her.

Like him?

No. There’s no way.

But that painting is…uncanny. It’s—

A coincidence. The world is full of coincidences. Like the fact, for example, that one of the Command officers who came to my ranch to watch me shoot just happened to know Jim from fifteen years prior and just happened to recognize him. That was a coincidence. A random twist of fate.

But this…Believing that Cross could be my oldest friend, the person I love most in this world after Uncle Jim, is so preposterous, it makes me want to laugh.

Yet it eats at me for days following our visit to the General’s estate.

Cross leaves the base on an assignment, which comes as a relief because I don’t know what to do with these suspicions floating around inside me. I move on autopilot. I share a morning meal with Lyddie. I run a recon mission with Kaine. I share an evening meal with Kaine, Ivy, and Lash, which ought to be uncomfortable, but I’m so preoccupied I don’t even care I’m eating with Cross’s ex-girlfriend.

I think about his mother hidden away in that concrete prison and wonder if Ivy ever met her. Seems unlikely. If anyone outside the family knew that Cross’s mother was schizophrenic, it would’ve come out eventually.

Does Roe know? I ran into him in the mess hall last night and almost blurted out the question. But I suspect he’s in the dark about it. I remember his bitter voice in the railcar, griping about how Vinessa Redden never came down when he visited. If he knew she was ill, I think it would’ve given him perverse satisfaction. His mommy was better than Cross’s mommy. He would’ve shouted it from the rooftops.

I search for Vinessa on Nexus. Pull up pictures of her when her sons were younger. She made some appearances with the General, but even back then they were scarce. He was always strict about his family’s security, so I suppose it wasn’t unusual when she dropped out of the public eye entirely. Now she’s hidden away in his concrete mansion, catatonic and vacantly staring at a scene that Wolf has described to me.

There’s no way.

I have to find out if it’s true.

But how can I possibly do that without revealing myself? I can’t just come out and say, Hey, are you my telepathic friend? without alerting him to the fact I have fucking telepathy. And that’s not information I should be providing without confirmation that he has it, too.

By the time he’s back on the base, seeking me out in the mess hall, I’m no closer to a solution. A plan.

All I know is that my heart swells at the sight of him striding toward me. He’s tailed by Xavier, who nods in greeting as he passes me. Cross stops.

“You’re back,” I say.

For a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me, but then his demeanor becomes professional. “We just got in. There’ll be a briefing tomorrow in the war room.”

I nod.

“Come to my quarters tonight?” His voice is low. Husky.

It’s rare that he invites me into his personal space. But we haven’t been alone since I found out the truth about his mother, so maybe he’s hoping for more privacy in case I bring it up.

I nod again. “I’ll comm you before I leave.”

I leave him to join Kaine, who’s once again eating with Lash and Ivy. Before this week, I felt like I hadn’t seen Lash in ages.

Halfway through the meal, I realize Lash is only eating with one hand. His other one is resting under the table on Ivy’s knee.

I try to keep my eyebrows from soaring. Is that a thing? Because I’m not entirely against it. I like Lash. I think he’s a good man, aside from the fact he’d strangle me with his bare hands if he knew I was Modified.

Anticipation flutters in my stomach when I walk toward the officers’ quarters later that night. The jeans I’m wearing are the ones that belonged to Betima. I still think of her often. I didn’t know her as well as I would’ve liked, but I know she didn’t deserve to die.

Cross opens the door and greets me with one of his mocking smiles.

“I was hoping you’d be naked.”

I snort. “You wish.”

“Desperately.”

“Successful op?” I ask as he lets me in.

“Very. We found a Faithful camp in the hills near D.”

“They’re working with Reed?”

“Well, they have supplies they could’ve only gotten from the city, so I assume the answer to that is yes. I don’t want to talk about it, though.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t want to talk at all.”

And then his mouth is on mine.

Are you Wolf? I want to ask as he kisses me. Are you? Are you Wolf?

I’m not suicidal. I can’t just blurt it out, not without a plan. But the idea that I could be kissing Wolf right now elicits a thrill. A rush of joy I didn’t see coming.

The realization hits me hard and fast.

I want him to be Wolf.

So badly. Because other than Uncle Jim, Wolf is the one person I trust most in this world. I don’t want him to be a voice in my head anymore. I want him to be this living, breathing man. Muscle and flesh and bone and a beating heart beneath my palm as I press it to his chest.

He walks me into the bedroom. His shirt comes off. My clothes follow suit. His pants. He throws me on his bed, downright feral.

“I think about you every second of the day,” he mutters, kissing my neck. “It’s a weakness.”

I dig my teeth into my lip. “I don’t want to be your weakness.”

“Too late.” He rises on his elbows, his blue eyes piercing into me with such intensity, I start to look away, because it’s the kind of intimacy I can’t reciprocate.

Normally he lets me avert my eyes, but not tonight.

Tonight, he cups my face with one hand, his strong thumb keeping me in place while his other hand reaches between us to grip himself.

“Look at me,” he says.

Once our gazes lock, he brings the broad head of his cock between my legs.

“Look at me while I do this. Just one time, Wren.”

I bite my lip again, and his thumb slides up to unsnag it from my teeth, smoothing out the seam.

“Don’t hide from me anymore.”

For a moment, I let myself believe I’m peering into Wolf’s eyes. I melt beneath him, and we both moan when he pushes himself inside me. My legs wrap around him, and soon we’re moving together in perfect unison. We’re so in tune with each other.

“It’s never been like this with anyone,” he admits.

“I know.”

When I close my eyes again, he rumbles in disapproval. “No. Don’t hide.”

It’s unbearable. It feels like he’s staring into my soul, and I don’t want to know what he sees. I just don’t. I betrayed Tana. Let them take her away so my cover wouldn’t be blown. I let them kill Jim. Stood there and watched him die. I—

“Hey. Where are you?”

I blink.

“Come back,” Cross whispers. “We’re right here.”

His hand slides between us to stroke my most sensitive spot, and a bolt of pleasure travels through my body. The tempo quickens. Faster and faster. Deeper and deeper strokes, while his thumb teases the tight bud that’s throbbing for him.

When I cry out, he nods with approval. “That’s it. Give it to me. Give me everything.”

Not everything. I can’t give him everything. But this…This I can give him.

I gasp as release finds me, rocking my hips to wring every ounce of pleasure from him. It’s not long before he finishes, too, shuddering, his lips finding mine in a blistering kiss.

We lie there afterward. Both breathless. He rolls us over so I’m curled beside him with my head on his chest. I hear his heart rate begin to regulate, only to speed up when I say, “How’s your mother?”

“Good. Eating again. I’ll go see her this weekend and take her for a walk.” He pauses. “Thank you for being so kind to her.”

“Of course.”

Silence settles between us.

Are you Wolf?

I’m desperate to ask him. I need to know, but short of outright telling him who I am, I’m unsure how to find out. I lie there, enjoyingthe steady rise and fall of his chest. I feel myself getting sleepy, but I try to stay awake, because I know he will. He hardly ever sleeps—

My breath gets stuck in my throat. I think…there might be a way.

I drag my fingers up and down his chest in lazy strokes. “Are you still only getting three or four hours of sleep?”

“Sometimes five.”

“That’s not terrible. Have you always had insomnia, or did it start when you joined the Command or something?”

“Always, I guess. But it’s not a big deal. I’ve never needed much sleep to function.”

“I went through a phase where I wasn’t sleeping either,” I confess. “But that’s because I was having a recurring nightmare.”

“Yeah?” He’s absently stroking my hair. My bare shoulder.

I give a shudder. “It was horrible. I used to get it all the time. It’s been a while, though.”

“What was it?”

There’s my opening.

I steel myself for what I’m about to do.

“It always starts the same way. I’m swimming in a beautiful cave. Exploring. And then I see something sparkling in the water. I can’t make out what it is, so I start swimming toward it.”

He keeps stroking my hair. His body is warm. Relaxed. I wonder if maybe his mother’s painting meant nothing and I’m going in the wrong direction. But it’s too late to correct course.

“I swim deeper into the cave, and all of a sudden everything becomes disorienting, and I don’t know where I am, which way is up. I’m starting to lose my breath.”

His hand stills in my hair.

“I’m trapped in the cave, and it’s like the entire weight of the ocean is pressing down on me. I’m frantically searching for an escape, but the walls just stretch on endlessly. My lungs are burning. I don’t know how much longer I can hold my breath.”

His fingers slip out of my hair.

“The panic sets in. My vision is blurring, darkness closing in around me. And there’s this sinking sense of dread because I know I have no choice but to inhale. I need to breathe. I open my mouth and take a deep breath, and the water rushes in, filling my lungs. My whole body starts convulsing, fighting it, but there’s no relief. I’m choking, dying—”

He moves so fast that I don’t see it coming.

In a heartbeat, I’m flat on my back with a knife at my throat.

Cross’s eyes are wild. Blazing. Every muscle in his body coiled tight as he peers down at me and snarls, “Who are you?”