She swore she heard a larger crowd, which seemed impossible with how many were already present. But as they neared a crossing in the road, a group of shifters piled up at an intersection. Deacon led them to the corralling shifters, turning the corner to see a street packed full of bodies. With more eyes, came more stares.
Then Rem saw it—silver hair. In the crowd.
She took an excited step away from Deacon, and that was all it took to be swept away. The stares of strangers changed from curiosity to interest, eyeing her in a way that made herveryuncomfortable—like they wanted to smell her, to take in the marvel of a Silver.
Rem regretted how poorly she handled that moment. She should have stood there, rooted in her spot, but panic was like fighting a hurricane, wondering which one of these shifters was like Jackson or Marcus.
She nearly called out for Deacon, but a hand grabbed Rem’s arm.
Rem would have screamed, but the female that pulled her through the crowd spoke in Icelandic, and the sea of shifters parted. The stranger’s hair was shiny, and more of the color of pale steel, versus Rem’s warmer shade. The Silver pulled Rem to the side of the street and into an alleyway, shooing off a few others. They hid behind a jutting out wall, standing next to an empty stoop. The woman’s hair texture was completely different, with luscious curls that bounced as she moved. The stranger was paler than Rem and covered in freckles.
Rem pulled out of the stranger's grasp and looked out of the alleyway as many passed by. They were alone, and no one followed them.
The stranger exhaled with a smile. “It’s so nice to meet another Silver.”
Rem stared at the Silver in utter bewilderment, like looking at an altered reflection. “I can’t believe you exist,” Rem muttered, taking in bright blue eyes that mirrored hers.
Then stranger took a step closer, and Rem backed up onto one of the stoop’s steps.
The stranger held her hands up as if to show she meant no harm before pleading, "Please. I won’t hurt you. In fact, I need you to help me.”
“What’s wrong?" Rem asked, frowning. "Wait, whoareyou? Who is your Alpha? Also, we really shouldn’t be alone.”
"Please, I need your help,” the stranger pressed.
Rem narrowed her eyes and sighed, straightening out her thoughts. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the vibrant blue of this Silver.Is that what it’s like to look into mine?
Rem asked, "Well, I mean, what’swrong?" She looked around. “We also shouldn’t be alone, honestly.”
The Silver seemed to stumble over words, finally getting out, "I'm with Marcus."
"Oh," Rem said, a chill swiftly moving under her skin. "Oh, oh I'm so sorry. He seems like a, well... Like adifficultman. I heard stories about you and the other Silvers with him.”
The stranger smiled, revealing a small gap in her front teeth, but her eyes never lost their severity. "Yes, he is. I'm glad you agree. Which means you might help me."
Rem looked over the freckled face. "I don't even know your name," Rem cautioned. “Also, were you watching and waiting or something? I only stepped away from Deacon for like, a few seconds.”
"It's Mavis. And in a way, yeah. But I have a reason for that," the Silver said, looking down the alleyway to ensure their solitude. "I think you can risk it. I overheard Marcus talking about you. Marcus said you're a bitch," she said with a slight chuckle, turning to face Rem, "which is good, I think. It shows promise. He said you spoke out of terms and disrespected him—just the kind of person I need." Her blue eyes eagerly awaited a response, the bags underneath pronounced.
"Look, I really cannot help you tothatdegree,” Rem said, the sound of the crowd lessening, her senses on edge as she didn't trust this woman. She scrunched her nose from the smell of a nearby trashcan, a reminder that they were somewhere they shouldn’t be.
Especially after Ronan warned her about wandering on her own.
"There is a black market for the hunters. There's a post here, in Scarlet. It's new, so we have to use it before they find us out. Help me get a message to them. That’s all I need. I don’t need you to do anything with Marcus.”
Rem shook her head, the bad feeling in her gut no longer just from the trash. Rem stepped away from the stoop and took another step away from Mavis. She wantednothingto do with the hunters. "No, you don't want the hunters. The last hunter I came across kidnapped me and casually mentionedrapingme. They’re not our friends. They see us as shifters, no matter what.”
"I don't care. I can negotiate with humans. I can't with Marcus,” she said, those familiar eyes unadorned and desperate; Rem understood how deep a look like that could go.
"Wecan'tnegotiate. We are not humans to them," Rem softly suggested, trying her best to let this Silver down gently. "If I help you get to your message to the black market, I could get into trouble. Ican'trisk that."
"Please. Do youreallywant to stay here with thesecreatures? Do you want to have to find amateand birth more Silvers?" There was a quiver in her voice, a tremble in her jaw.
"I mean, the thought isn't entirely foreign to me," Rem countered, watching a rat scurry by as a cat chased it. "I was going to have to marry someone at some point. It's just with a shifter now. And at least I get to choose from more of them. Back home, no one caught my eye."
Mavis pulled back, the muscle in her left eye twitching as she glared at Rem. "You've just arrived here, and you're already accepting your fate as one of them."
That boiled Rem's blood. "That's not fair. You don't know me. You don't know my life," she defended, thinking of Oliver.I don't have the luxury of just running away or dreaming of an escape. I have to adapt or lose my sanity. "Besides, why don'tyoujust go?"
