Page 9 of Flint's Arrow
Tell me how to make this right.
Delete.
Finally, Arrow just typed:I’m sorry.
He hit send before he could overthink it.
The response came twenty minutes later:You’re apologizing to the wrong person.
Fair enough.
Arrow:Then tell me how to apologize to the right one.
Cyrus:Figure it out yourself. You’re supposed to be a smart wolf. Act like it.
The conversation ended there. Arrow sat in his office as the sun set and the city lights came on as darkness fell. His wolf paced and whined. His body ached with the mating pull, but for the first time since he’d met Flint, Arrow wasn’t thinking about dragging him home and getting his dick sucked. He was thinking about earning the right to even speak to him again.How the hell do I do that?
Chapter Three
Flint wiped down his rifle for the third time that morning, even though it didn’t need it. The repetitive motion usually calmed him, but his hands felt unsteady. It had been three days since Pax found him crying in the greenhouse, three days of checking every slight movement beyond the tree line at night, hoping that a wolf was looking for him and praying he wasn’t. Three very long days of pretending the hollow ache in his chest was just heartburn.
The knock on his door made him flinch.
“It’s just me,” Cyrus called through the wood.
Flint set the rifle down carefully and crossed to open the door. Cyrus stood on his porch holding two paper bags that smelled like bacon and coffee. Cyrus’s expression was gentle but assessing - the look he got when he was worried but trying not to show it.
“I figured you might be hungry.”
“I ate.” That was a flat-out lie. Flint couldn’t remember the last time he felt like eating.
Cyrus raised an eyebrow. “You have a garbage can full of coffee pods, and the boys said you haven’t been near the grill in a week.”
Flint stepped aside to let him in. His small cabin was tidy. He’d spent the last few days cleaning everything he could reach just to keep his hands busy. He hadn’t dared shift because his snake was keen on leaving the Alley and tracking down their errant wolf - and as he couldn’t stop crying at random moments, working in the greenhouse was done in small doses.
Cyrus set the bags on the kitchen counter and started unpacking. He’d brought bacon buns and hash browns from Gwen’s Bakery and fresh fruit, which was probably a donation from Storm’s latest grocery haul. The crocodile spent a lot of time trying to dissuade Pax from eating so many donuts. He hadn’t been successful so far.
“You didn’t have to…”
“I wanted to.” Cyrus handed him a coffee exactly how he liked it - black with two sugars. “Besides, I need to talk to you about a job.”
Flint’s stomach twisted. He wasn’t sure he could focus enough to take a shot at a barn door and guarantee he’d hit it in his current state. Every time he thought about working, his mind kept replaying that night at the bar, Arrow’s dismissive sneer, the casual cruelty in assuming Flint was nothing more than a body to use. “Can’t someone else take it?”
“It’s urgent, with only a small window for any chance of success. The job specifically requires a sniper with your skill set.” Cyrus pulled out a tablet and brought up the file. “The target’s a rogue vampire operating out of London. He’s been trafficking shifter children through a network we’ve been trying to crack for two years. We finally got a location, but he’s only going to be there for seventy-two hours before he moves again.” He handed over his tablet.
Flint scanned the details, his professional instincts kicking in despite himself. Third-floor apartment. Limited sight lines. Narrow window of opportunity. “This is a difficult shot.” He passed the tablet back.
“That’s why I need you.” Cyrus met his eyes. “I could send Storm or Levi, but they’d have to get close. This bastard has bodyguards, wards, and a habit of killing anyone who gets withinfifty feet of him. You’re the only one who can take him from a distance without being detected.”
Because no one ever sees me coming.The thought should have brought satisfaction, but instead it just reminded Flint why - everyone underestimated the small blond snake. Even his own mate.
“I don’t know if I can…”
“Flint, you can. You know you can. This is the sort of job you were born to do.” Cyrus’s voice was firm but not unkind. “What Arrow did was shitty. How he treated you was wrong on every level. But your work? That’s something you have control over. That’s something you should be proud of.”
Flint looked down at his hands. They’d stopped shaking. “I just keep thinking...if my own mate thinks I’m useless, maybe…”
“Stop that.” Cyrus set the tablet down and waited until Flint met his eyes again. “Arrow’s an idiot wolf with his head up his ass. What he thinks doesn’t change the fact that you’re amazing at what you do. It doesn’t change the fact that you’ve saved lives, stopped monsters, and done work most people couldn’t even dream of accomplishing.”
