And then it hits me.
My chest rises faster as I slowly look around the attic space. Now, it’s not foreign to feel Judge right behind me while in this bed, but it is foreign to see the faintest glow of the morning sunandto feel him still against me.
When did he get in here?
I lie there, unafraid of the world with his heat to my back, hearing him breathe in a slow rhythm. There’s a moment where I let go of all my concerns and fears, because it feels good to. My eyes even close as I enjoy the comfort of him. Maybe it’s easier, too, since I don’t have to see his face. Judge can exist behind me without the guilt of knowing who he is.
What this man is doing to me is so bad I can’t even think straight, and he hasn’t even bitten my neck. What do I even do right now? Do I just lie here until he wakes up? Do I wake him up? I have to pee, but I also don’t want to leave this warmth.
He’s not so unpleasant, I guess…
I try to move from his arm, but it’s honestly kind of heavy. And when I put a little extra effort in, he inhales a sharp breath as he adjusts, pulling that grip even tighter. The sensation makes me all fluttery inside, some part of my ego thrilled that such an imposing alphapulls me closer.
And—oh, that’s definitely his dick through his pants, his firm warmth pressed right against my ass.
And what do I want? I want…crap. I want more of him. I don’t know what any of this means, but holding frustration for him is now like holding sand… “I have to pee,” I quietly say, not used to the mornings with another.
His grip loosens as he inhales deeply. “Go on,nurse,” he says almost playfully. “Then get back in bed.”
Oh, that’s not good, either. My body is flooded with only good things. He knows me, my history, and how to basically make my body sing for him. I hurry to the bathroom, shivering from the cold and making it quick.
As I sit there by myself on the cold toilet seat, I process the way I smell of him, and not because we fucked. But because I had sat with him, leaning against his body for warmth, and then he must have returned while I was sleeping and joined me in my bed…
What if he bites me and I can’t fight him anymore? What if this is like home, where I trusted my own parents and turns out they were setting me up for a lifetime of a hand already promised in a mating I never even got asked if I wanted…
My heart races, and I wipe.
I also can’t let this morning go to waste. He came back to sleep, which meanssomethingis developing between us. It’s what I need so I can gain freedom, so I can eventually leave this place. Hell, just even go outside for a bit. I doubt Titan is hiding in the bushes. So then what? I give in? I can’t just let myself change, can I? I can’t forget all those omegas that came to the Enclave, terrified of their alphas and desperate to escape.
None of them were Dominion escapees…None, except Rebecca.
When I go back out to the room with my nest—bed—and see that massive, tattooed hulk of a man, there’s a momentary plea in my heartnotto run.
Running is exhausting.
So is being alone.
So is beingcold.
Rather than return to the bed just yet, Judge’s sleepy eyes on me, I add more wood to the hearth and try to light a new one. I strike at the stone.
“I’ll be leaving for a few days. You’ll be here while I’m gone.”
I strike again, the sharp rock slicing at my skin when those words make me feel suddenly abandoned. I drop the stones and wince, gripping my thumb right away and pressing on the wound, moving over to my pitcher of water to clean it out really fast.
Judge is already up on his feet like he’s trained for this. “What happened?”
“I just—struck too hard,” I say, dabbing at the bleeding to clean it before pressing a cloth onto it. “I’m fine. Just need to add pressure until it clots. If it doesn’t, I’ll sew it. Not the first time I’ve done this.”
I slide into the seat of my small dining table, where the natural light is the strongest. Judge approaches, bending over to take my hands that are pressed together within one of his. “Open it.”
“I’m literally a nurse and can take care of it.”
“Open it.Let me see.”
I do so without much more fighting, dark blood quickly reappearing before I close it back. “I’ll get some things for it. That doesn’t look shallow,” he says, his voice lower in the morning, heading down the stairs quickly while sniffing, like he’s still waking up.
What does he mean he’s leaving me? I can’t godaysin thisspace all alone. A needy part of me almost wants to beg for him to just be honest with me, to not lead me on. I’m so afraid to let warm things settle in my heart because IknowI know better.
