I laugh again and move my head so he can’t see me smile, as of course he darted his gaze my way as if to capture it. I stare back out the window panes that I know are frigid. “I want to know who wrote that letter,” I blurt out, making quite the cringe face when I shouldn’t have said that.
“It doesn’t matter who did it,” he replies, almost as if it reallyisn’t worth discussing. “She is going through a lot, and it was nothing personal. Don’t feel betrayed for it. I asked her to help and offered her what I could within my control.”
That somehow makes it a little better, but it doesn’t take away from the unsteadiness in my heart that I don’t trustanyone. “Rather than just giving her that space to bekind?”
I can hear his steps near me. “Rules in a gang like Dominion are best not stepped across, sweetheart. One of them is that omegas donotwander outside their wings unmated.”
Okay, drop it!This is getting us off topic. “I want to go to one of therealgatherings,” I say, hoping maybe this can gosomewhere.
“You really want to go to those?” he asks, coming into view with his hands now in his pockets.
Good, he likes that. “I watch them all the time out these windows.”
“You can’t do that for a while, Diana,” he quietly replies, almost with a tone of apology. He purrs, my body loosening in all of its tension. “Where else would you want to go?”
“The beach,” I state, almost shy. It’s my first piece of genuine vulnerability I’m giving him, and because he ruined my first two shots, I might as well try to steal a view of the ocean out of this.
“That’s ten hours from here.”
“You didn’t state it had to have a distance limit.”
He huffs out a laugh. He leans over the bed, grabs one of the blankets, and throws it over his shoulder, then moves to the tray of food I haven’t yet touched. “Grab another blanket, and we’re going down those stairs,” he says, motioning to the ones I frequent.
“And do what?”
“You stress your body out by not trusting me. It’s unnecessary,” he chides, like we’re an old couple with annoying habits.
“Don’t get me started onunnecessary,” I say, standing with a fluffy blanket in hand, not wanting to be uncomfortablewherever we’re going, and head down the stairs, not offering to help him at all.
He acts like he’s always rewarding my behavior with Pavlov’s theory, so I’ll do the same and rewardhisbehavior of talking to me by not hesitating. He makes sure I go first, and I do so with my head held high.
He follows behind, barefoot.
I better not regret this.
DIANA
The courtyardbelow the Iron Castle has oil drums ablaze, the flames licking up into the cold air. Someone strung painted hubcaps, and then broken glass into garlands to catch the light. People near the fires to warm their hands.
It’s a gathering that’s larger than I’m used to seeing. Even children are there, weaving between pillars. Then I notice, under an overhang, what looks like a line of food on a table.
It makes me sad because we used to do something like this at the Enclave every fortnight during the cold season.
“Sit and eat.”
I turn around to see that Judge has laid out the food I had ignored before, which is roasted beef, mashed potatoes, some squash, and, of course, bread pudding. It’s colder than it was when he first brought it in, but whatever. I sit on the blanket and go with it, because I found I don’t like being force-fed, which he did on day three. Judge then gets behind me, and I stiffen, the warmth of his body spreading behind me. I realize he’s taken theotherblanket and thrown it over his shoulders.
“I don’t have a blanket.”
“Then you’ll have to lean against me so I can wrap mine around you.”
A grin spreads on my face, one I don’t have to worry about him seeing. “Good to know,” I say, taking a few rushed bites of the meat, and then finishing the bread pudding so we can get this past us and maybe actually talk more. I drink out of a canteen, feeling rather on the spot since he’s not doing anything himself, other than sitting behind me.
When I hear footsteps on the stairs, I actually jump back into Judge without thought, his arm reaching out almost instinctively as he tightens me against him and his heat. He doesn’t move to his feet or anything, or seem surprised.
Did he invite others here? Is this about to turn into something fucked up? My heart races, my eyes widening—only for Kitty to enter, carrying a thermos, and put it down without a word or making eye contact.
“What is that?” I ask once she’s gone.
