There was one rough night in particular where Judge rubbed his leaking cum all over my ass and back, wiping his hand off between my breasts. He seemed to be in a mood since he first entered the room, and a part of me registered that evenheseemed to relax after he was spent.
Is he doing this for himself, too?
I don’t know—too many questions! I grab my hair, wondering when I’ll get a sanity check? When am I getting out ofhere? I can’t stay in here for months like this.
I pace more than before that morning. I even talk to the glass. I press my palms against it until the cold cuts through the heat in my skin.
The logical side of my brain hasn’t left, though. I still wait for an opening. Like fucking hell am I actuallystayinghere. I’m trying to make the best of the situation, to let my body reset. To watch the courtyard below for any help or insight into how Dominion operates.
There’s something different about this night as it encroaches, however. The air feels too small to breathe. It could also be the prolific amount of origami swans all around, which is something I learned to do as a kid and have sacrificed two books so far to make.
I think about Selene and about every wrong turn that led me here.
My breathing hitches when I spot Judge out there in the courtyard, his buzz cut hair and bomber jacket unmistakable, everyone giving him space as he moves about confidentially. It’s so weird to think about how out there, he’s their leader, and then he’s visitingmeduring the nights. Passing out just as hard as I do. That apparently his real name is twenty-seven, which means he’s never been given aproperone, has he? I didn’t even ask howJudgecame to be.
Does anyone out there smell me on him? Or does he use a balm to hide me?
I need more, and I can feel it. I… I look to the door he usually leaves through. It’s different than the one he initially used to bring me inside. I’m certain it would take me to his room, as he disappears through it often. I near it, testing it like I always?—
I freeze.
It opens.
I don’t move, the doorknob fully turned but the door still shut. If I pull, it’llopen. Would I get in trouble for this?
He watches everything so closely, and I’m not blind to the fact that this isthealpha’s den. With how territorial they are, it wouldn’t shock me if hardly anyone comes into his private dwelling. So is this intentional?
I swing the door open.
There’s light at the end of the stairwell, bleeding in from the bottom of another door. I travel down, slow at first, like someone will hear me, but then I recall that I just saw he’s outside. I hurry, opening the second door that’salsounlocked, looking out the window below to see he’s still out there, speaking with his people.
I turn around and breathe in deeply.
His scent is filled in here, completely unaltered by me. Maps are nailed to the walls, weapons hung in rows, pillows neatly arranged on the couch.
For a moment, I just stand there, caught between fear and curiosity. The idea of being inhisspace feels like a kind of trespassing that I might regret, but it’s also the first time in days that I’ve felt something like freedom or true excitement. I trail my fingers along the desk, then lift my hand.My scent.
Well, it’s in the air now. And there’s no way I can get rid of it. And I doubt he left it unlocked byaccident.
Because I’m a bored woman locked in the space above him, I harbor no hesitation.
What does Judge want me in here for?
JUDGE
One of thedrawbacks to gaining power is thateveryonewants a fucking piece of it. I bet even their third cousins conspire with them on how to take it from me.
Heading down the kennels after a long evening in the long hall, the barking and whining dogs make it easier to have conversations. I walk past the hounds, pulling small bits of jerky out of my pockets to feed them.
Skinner’s crouched by one of the sled dogs, a black-furred brute with a white spot on its chest. He’s scratching behind its ear, murmuring something low that makes the dog huff in contentment. The moment my right hand sees me, he stands, brushing his hands on his thighs.
Skinner motions for me to lean in, and I lower my head to face the dog as I wait to hear what I was brought down here for. “White flag rider is heading this way,” he says without preamble. “Might take him a week or two to get here, depending on the weather. That’s what was so urgent.”
I nod, pulling back for a moment, rolling my fingers inward. “So we have a weasel,andTitan is now sending a white flag?”
A rough sound escapes him, almost like a failed attempt at a laugh. “Yeah, he sure as shit is done being subtle.”
A few of the dogs pace and whine as I force a slow exhale through my nose, hand raising to drag down my jaw. Diana’s face flashes in my mind—that bare neck, the way she looks when she’s half defiant, half lost, and how it disappears when her body gives into me. Biting that pretty, soft neck is something I’malwaysrefraining from.
