Scarlet

asking, “Was it always just the two of you?”
    She nodded and when she was sure she’d stifled the tears, peeled her hands away. She sniffed and reached forward to flip the wings, their skin already blackened. “Yep, just the two of us. Grand-mère never married. Whoever my grandpa was, he’s been out of the picture for a long time. She never really talked about it.”
    “And you didn’t have any siblings? Or … adopted siblings? Wards?”
    “Wards?” Scarlet swiped her sleeve across her nose and squinted at him. “No, it was just me.” She added a branch to the fire. “How about you? Any siblings?”
    Wolf curled his fingers into the rocks. “One. A younger brother.”
    Scarlet barely heard him over the crackle of the flames. She felt the weight of those three words. A younger brother. Wolf’s expression showed neither affection nor coldness. He struck her as someone who would be protective of a younger sibling, but his face seemed hardened against that instinct.
    “Where’s he now?” she asked. “Does he still live with your parents?”
    Leaning forward, Wolf adjusted the nearest duck leg. “No. Neither of us have spoken to our parents in a very long time.”
    Scarlet refocused on the cooking bird. “Not getting along with your parents. I guess that’s something we have in common, then.”
    Wolf’s grip locked around the drumstick, and only when a spark lanced out at him from the fire did he retract his arm. “I loved my parents,” he said with the tenderness that had been missing when he’d mentioned his brother.
    “Oh,” she said dumbly. “Are they dead?”
    She flinched at her crudeness, wishing just once she knew when to hold her tongue. But Wolf seemed more resigned than hurt as he picked through the rocks beside him. “I don’t know. There are rules that come with being a member of the pack. One is that you’ll cut all ties with people from your past, including your family. Especially your family.”
    She shook her head, baffled. “But if you had a good home life, why did you even join them in the first place?”
    “I wasn’t given a choice.” He scratched behind his ear. “My brother wasn’t given one either when they came for him, a few years after they took me, but that never seemed to bother him like it bothered me…” He trailed off, tossing a stone into the water. “It’s complicated. And it doesn’t matter anymore.”
    She frowned. It was unfathomable to her that you wouldn’t have a choice to live that lifestyle, to leave your home and family, to join a violent gang—but before she could press him further, Wolf’s attention swiveled back toward the train tracks and he leaped to his feet.
    Scarlet turned, her heart landing in her throat.
    The man from the dining car crept out of the shadows, quiet as a cat. He was still smiling, but it was nothing like that teasing, flirtatious grin she’d seen on him before.
    It took her a slow, blank moment to recall his name. Ran.
    Tipping his head back, Ran sniffed longingly at the air.
    “Lovely,” he said. “It seems I’m just in time for supper.”

 
    Twenty-One
    “I’m so sorry if I’ve interrupted you,” Ran said, lingering beneath the forest canopy. “The scent was simply too enticing to pass up.” His eyes were on Wolf as he said this and the twinkle behind them made Scarlet’s toes curl in her shoes. Grasping the handle of her pistol, she dragged it in toward her hip.
    “Of course,” Wolf said after a long silence, his voice dark with warning. “We have plenty.”
    “Thank you, friend.”
    The man walked around the fire, passing by so close to Scarlet that she had to shrink away to keep her elbow from brushing his leg. The hairs stood up on her forearms.
    Ran sprawled out opposite the fire from her, lounging as if the shore were his own private beach. After a moment, Wolf settled down between them. Not lounging.
    “Wolf, this is Ran,” said Scarlet, flushing from the awkwardness. “I met him on the train.” Wishing she could restructure her emotions into nonchalance, she busied her hands with turning the duck pieces. Wolf inched closer to her, keeping himself as a block between her and Ran even though his face was tinged red from being so close to the flames.
    “We had a lovely conversation in the dining car,” said Ran. “About … what was it? ‘Righteous lupine wannabes?’”
    Scarlet glared at him. “A topic that never ceases to fascinate me,” she said, tone even as she