Page 128 of Faith and Fury

Still reeling, I sign, stubbornly, I thought you were happy to see me.

“I am,” he huffs, “and I’m not. Faith—you got out. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”

I promised I’d come back.

“And now we’re right back where we started.”

I pull away, a mixture of rage and humiliation churning inside. I know the circumstances are not ideal, I sign, but I am going to save you.

“You can’t save me like this. And especially—” he gestures to the cast on my ankle, “not like this.”

A part of me wants to shrink into nothing, hating myself for being so careless, so naïve, but another, stronger part refuses to give up. Knows it can’t end like this.

I have faith, I sign at last.

Fang’s expression falters. I see the memory flash before his eyes, fierce yet tender.

I want to trust you, he signs back. But the ringleaders are up to something, and you’re at the center of it.

That’s not what I’m talking about. My shoulders straighten. The Wilder alphas are coming for me. I’m sure of it.

He growls. They couldn’t find us before. What makes you think they’ll figure it out now?

Because. I smile. They—

I have to stop myself, realizing how close I am to telling Fang that two of the Wilder alphas have confessed their love for me.

Fang’s black eyes sharpen, examining me. Maybe he senses what I won’t let myself say, but I don’t give him a chance to ask.

They’re coming, I sign again, definitively. It’s only a matter of time.

He takes a breath. Time enough for the ringleaders to have their way with you.

I smirk. Like you’d ever let that happen.

For the first time since I woke up, I sense Fang’s pheromones—muted, still, but more present than before—relaxing. He puts his hand on my thigh. Purrs almost silently, just for me to hear.

“Damn straight,” he says.

***

No-one comes to check on us for hours. I explain to Fang how many of the ring personnel we’ve already captured—it’s no wonder they’re stretched thin.

“It’ll be lights out soon,” Fang notes. Just like the old days, he seems to have no difficulty keeping track of time. “They haven’t given us new mats or blankets, so a lot of people are pairing up for warmth.” A few rogues shoot us sly looks, sensing us talking about them. Fang lowers his voice. “I think it helps.”

I smile. Then let me help you.

I nuzzle into his chest, almost all the tension leaving my body as he wraps himself around me. The lights cut off almost exactly when Fang estimates they will, and the entire room is submerged in black.

A pang of fear grips me. Fang responds instantly, burying me deeper in his chest.

“Your scent,” he whispers, “it’s … lavender.”

I smile. Nod.

His lips brush my temple, his kiss like butterfly wings. “It’s perfect.”

My inner omega preens, delighted to know my mate likes my scent.

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