I peek at him.
“Finding enough food was hard, but we had lots of help, lots of community. There were some tough times, but nothing like that.”
Cadel shrugs. “I didn’t need to eat.”
I stare at him, my lip hooking up on one side, amused by his blunt admission.
“What was it like?”
Cadel thinks for a long time. “Lonely. It was just me and my purpose, and the purpose was growing less important as the years went on. My temper frayed, and things started to feel pointless.”
“So, you’re glad you’re here?” I tease.
He lifts his eyes, looking straight at me. “Yes, I would rather be with you for one day in the Culling Ground than spend an eternity anywhere else.”
My heart twists.
“What he said,” Jarek says and lays down, looking up at the canopy.
I lean over him, embarrassed at how much Cadel’s words have affected me. “What are you good at, Jarek?”
“Killing people.”
I snort a laugh and lean down, touching my lips to his. One of his hands lands on the small of my back, holding me in place. I lean back, pushing up with my arms, but don’t try to escape him.
“I’m good at being your alpha,” he says again with a wink.
I splutter and slap his chest.
“Jarek is an artist.”
I lift my head, staring at Mordecai, sure I heard wrong. “What?”
“He can work with blown glass, metal, and wood. He makes the most amazing creations.”
“How do you know that?” Jarek snarls, rolling out from under me and getting up on his hands and knees, glaring at Mordecai.
“I know that because the Resistance has been keeping tabs on you.”
I blink, sitting back on my heels. I want to be upset about the Resistance, but Jarek’s secret is too interesting.
“What about you?” Jarek snaps. “What can you do?”
“Me?” Mordecai snorts a laugh. “I’m a hunter. It’s a skill of which I’m very good. Who do you think kept tabs on you?”
They glare at each other until I look at Cadel, finding him peering between them. Is he good at something or is this one of those moments when I shouldn’t ask and make him feel left out?
Cadel pulls a long wooden flute out of the long black robe he’s wearing and looks at me.
I sit up straighter, my heart pounding. “You can play?”
“I can. Would you like me to play you a song, Omega?”
My mouth is dry, but I nod quickly and sit down, arranging myself to listen. The first notes turn the forest silent; they grab me by the heart and yank all of me to attention. As he plays, I discover he’s not just good; he’s a master.
The song whirls around, full of agony, and rises in joy and hope before it comes to a delicate ending that has me wiping away tears and sniffling.
“Can’t beat that,” Jarek says but with a good-natured smile.
