“Do you think you could teach them, like how Rickon taught you?”
Intelligence gleams in his big eyes. “Oh. Teach about laws?”
“Yeah, about laws and manners, and not fighting.”
“Difficult,” Zack mutters, rumbling at some distant memory.
I didn’t know he understood that word. Every time we meet, he surprises me.
“Will Ri-ckon help?” he asks suddenly, running his cuffed hands over his temples, as if a headache lurks beneath.
“No, probably not.” I shake my head. “Because Rickon’s busy helping Red.”
He looks down, tracing scratches on the table. When he glances up, a shiver runs through my soul at the burning look in his gaze. “Cal-ee good with words. Cal-ee help?”
I open my mouth to answer but he cuts me off with a chuckle.
“Zack have to protect Cal-ee. Fighters eat him alive.”
I groan. “Thanks a lot. Just what every alpha loves; having their weakness pointed out. But yes, it’s something we could do together.”
The big alpha smirks, clearly enjoying my discomfort. But even the fact he can joke around proves how far he’s come.
“Think about it,” I say. “After we bring Ray down and get you out of here, it’d be something to do with your time.”
Even if he was poking fun at me, he has a good point. I’d better complete the rehabilitation training as soon as my leave starts and, while I’m at it, I should speak to the OCB agent in Darinian who has two ferals in his care. Not only is his pack organizing fundraising to keep ferals alive, but I bet he’d have some good ideas about how a system to support wild alphas should operate.
Zack reaches his arms across the table, bent at the elbow, with his hand loosely open. He stares at me until I clasp our hands together, as if we’re about to arm wrestle. “Cal-ee want to help ferals?”
I nod. “I’m helping you, aren’t I?”
His grip tightens, and his aura turns menacing. “When free, I test Cal-ee-stow to see if strong enough.”
My throat tightens, and adrenaline sings in my veins in instinctive response to his dominance. “Strong enough for what?”
“Everything.”
The hair on the back of my neck rises. Does everything include his omega and bonded alpha? I want to ask, but I don’t dare voice my thoughts; the hope is too fragile to be brought into the light. Regardless, my instincts tell me Zack acknowledges me now.
The alpha releases my hand and leans back in his seat. “When leave?” he asks.
“Ah, right.” I clear my throat, shaking off the daze. “I’ve submitted an appeal, so let me tell you how that works and what you need to say at the hearing, whenever we finally get assigned a date.”
He nods. “Zack listening.”
And he is, and I’m listening right back.
Chapter thirty-three
Red
I pace in the long grass on the side of the road, my gaze continually flitting back to the imposing prison entrance. As much as I want to see Callisto drive out through the gates and hear what happened to Zack, my shaky pulse says I’m also dreading it. What was I doing, even thinking of Callisto as a potential sex-scene stand-in? It’s the worst possible way to mix personal feelings with business.
But the truth is, as much as I’ve reassured Rickon everything is fine, I know my control skates on thin ice. Ghost Red took over so easily when I thought we’d lost Zack, and she lurks in the corner of my mind, waiting for more bad news to consume me.
Despite the lurking fear, warmth thrums through the bond, and I relax. Zack’s okay. Happy, even. Compared to the terrible wailing of his inner voice before we met, this feels almost like he’s on vacation. It’s so hard not seeing him, but at least I have this heart connection.
The OCB van door bangs and footsteps swish through the grass. Agent Pierce walks over and holds out a mug with a tea bag string dangling over the side.
