My mate. My mate.
I’ve dreamed of this moment for so long—returning to Fang’s arms, falling asleep in the one place I feel truly safe. He feels so strong, so warm, that I almost forget where we are. Or maybe I just don’t care anymore, as long as we’re together.
Naturally, as soon as I think I might finally be drifting in a deep and dreamless sleep, all hell breaks loose.
The lights flick on. The door rattles.
All the rogues spring up, instantly on alert. We squint against the harsh lights, glaring at the door as an all-too-familiar face bursts in.
Hamish.
He looks more disheveled than I’ve ever seen him, his shirt untucked, his grey stubble doing little to conceal his weathered features. I note with pride the scratches on his arms—courtesy of me.
“F-7,” he barks, “with me.”
Fang reacts before I do. He gives a nasty snarl, putting his arm in front of me.
Don’t, I sign quickly. Maybe he hasn’t noticed the electric baton in Hamish’s hands—a favorite tool of the guards.
Fang ignores me. “What do you want with her?” he demands.
Hamish’s baton gives a harsh crackle. “No-one’s talking to you, D-1.” His glare returns to me. “Up. Now.”
My survival instincts kick in, reminding me how I lasted as long as I did in the ring. Taking orders. Keeping my head down. And winning fights.
This isn’t a fight I can win, nor can Fang. It’d be stupid to try.
Standing, struggling to stay balanced on my bad ankle, I sign to Fang, It’s okay. I can handle this.
I don’t give a shit, Fang signs back.
“Hey.” Hamish points the baton at us. “You two got something to say, you say it out loud.”
I give him a look. He does know I can’t speak, doesn’t he? Axe must’ve shared that much.
Hamish keeps ushering me out. I limp toward the door, flinching when he waves his weapon—a warning to the other rogues to keep their distance. Fang especially.
Even still, Fang hovers behind me, inching his way closer and closer to the door. I know this is the only way I can protect him—obeying orders, like a good little rogue—but it pains me to imagine being separated again.
Hamish backs into the hall. I join him. Then, right as Fang gets close enough to follow, Hamish slams the door in his face—knocking my mate clean off his feet.
Enraged, I flash my teeth. Hamish doesn’t hesitate.
Electricity shoots through me. I choke, spasming violently, my legs giving out.
“Faith!” Fang roars.
His voice fizzles out, and out, and out.
The last thing I’m aware of is Hamish’s arms around me, dragging me down the hall, before the world returns to black.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Faith
No-one speaks to me. Well, they speak at me, but frankly I’m not sure why I’m here.
I woke up to a bottle of cold water being tipped over my head. One of the ringleaders was grumbling at Hamish for knocking me out in the first place.