I nod. Out of the two massive gang leaders, I already trust Judge more. I’m not taking my chances with the other one. “I’m really tired of being hunted out by alphas, so my lips are sealed.” I rub my eye with my non-wounded hand. “Thank you for telling me.”
“I want you to be armed with that information while I’m gone. Kitty is here, along with Beast. You’ve seen him once. The alpha with the mask. He’s the alpha that would replace me if I died, and I’m leaving him behind to look over this place—andyou—from a distance.”
My body does a little shiver at the mention of Judgedying. “What about Skinner? Isn’t he your right hand?”
“My role is usually filled by an alpha, and Skinner is a beta.”
I stare at my hand, feeling an odd rise ofemotion.
When Judge starts to pull back like he’s about to get up, there’s a slight movement of his body forward as if he would reach out to me. To do what, I’ll never know, because he commits to standing and gathers his first aid supplies. “I don’t mean to leave on a grim note, but I got word late last night that we’d leave today.”
“And if—if somethinghappens, is Titan going to come for me one day?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I have everything under control, and you don’t need to worry? I just need your vigilance, not for you to take action.”
God, I want to believe him. I want to give my worries to a very capable alpha and say, ‘Have it all, bud.’ But I’m also… worried? “What if the rider is a trap?” I ask.
Judge flashes a dark grin at me. “Are you worried for your alpha, Diana?”
I run a hand through my hair, holding my injured one against my stomach. “I feel a lot of things right now, most of them confusing.”
I didn’t deny him being my alpha, but that’s also because he gave me a lot of information just now. So I’ll reward that, just like he ‘rewards’ me. And also… it didn’t feel nearly as wrong as it usually does.
When Judge’s massive back is to me, I look him over from behind, from the large traps down to the way he sways like he’s spring-loaded with muscle. If only I could wave a magic wand to help delineatealltruths from lies. I’d wave that bitch so hard.
Maybe the Witch Doctor is the closest I’d get to such a magical feat. And if Judge is lying, or using me, maybe the Witch Doctor can remove emotions and memories, too…
Thoughts like that are so far away now.
I actually don’t think I want to leave anymore.
Who, then, does that make me now?
JUDGE
The cold gnawsthrough my coat as I stand outside the cabin—one of Dominion’s safety houses scattered through our territories. The place is small, smoke curling into the night sky. It’s frequently stocked with dried meats, canned goods, and the basic baking essentials. A portable antenna hums faintly by the door, powered by an old solar battery. From here, my comm connects to the cameras.
The feed runs through satellites left over from before thebloom. Dominion’s tech crews, usually from military bases or someone unnaturally gifted for that kind of shit, have built walls of encryption around the signal.
I’m watching her without worry of anyone else seeing.
I hold a paper swan in my other hand, mindlessly turning it over. It’s one I took from upstairs. I really doubt she’ll notice, since there’s about a fucking hundred of them. Boone’s collar is the only thing I’ve ever taken of someone as a memento, and I’m already annoyed that the swan has lost most of Diana’s scent.
It doesn’t stop a smile from spreading across my face. On the comm screen, she’s making an origami rose out of paper shepainted black.
A strange warmth pulses against the cold that’s settled in my bones. My breathing deepens, my brows furrowing when I realize she actually made a black rose.
My eyes drift to the black rose tattoo on the back of my hand, the one a glove conceals. I had it inked many years ago as a reminder of a deal I struck with the Witch Doctor, a deal that has never been so heavy until now. My only true ace in the hole if shit goes terribly wrong, and I fail to protect Diana.
I’ve felt her touch the marks on my skin before, tracing the scars, the tattoos, when she thinks I’m sleeping. She’s never asked about them. But seeing her make a black rose—myblack rose—makes me look away.
She misses me.
My omega misses me.
The thought burns through me with equal parts pride and dread. Purpose floods in… and fear follows close behind.
That’s not good. I’m not built to operate while fear sits this close to my ribs. It dulls the edges, makes me far too human. Humans allow for error so those close to them die.
