Page 7 of Faith and Fury

And a feral part of myself wishing I could take her home.

Chapter Five

Faith

This isn’t part of the plan.

I won my hundredth fight fair and square, and yet nobody bid on me. These fuckers in green and black stormed through my arena. Stole my fucking spotlight.

It’s because of them that I can’t rescue my mate.

My crazed inner omega takes the reins, drawing on everything she’s learnt over the last three years: I am an animal. I fight, I bleed, I fight harder. I try to show them that—hoping someone will have the good sense to finally place a bid—when iron arms pluck me up and drag me away.

This alpha’s body is impossibly broad, and so hot that just being near him makes me sweat. He takes me into a dimly lit room.

All at once, my head feels lighter. The light, or lack of it, is oddly … soothing.

“That’s it,” he rumbles. “Just breathe.”

We’re in … an office. I can’t remember the last time I saw an office, but I can tell judging on the long desk, sleek computer, and loose paperwork.

The alpha gestures. “Would you like to sit?”

I hesitate. He smiles reassuringly.

“It’ll be easier for me to patch you up.”

Patch me up? I go to sign, then stop myself. He catches the gesture, eyeing me curiously, but I avert my gaze before he can ask. Still, I don’t sense an imminent threat, so I begrudgingly sit.

He pulls something out of the desk drawer. I hiss when he tilts my face up, but he doesn’t let go—crouching down until we’re eye-to-eye.

“This might sting,” he says.

Slowly, he dabs a cotton swab against to my cheek. There’s a familiar alcoholic bite at the contact.

“I’m Caleb, by the way. Captain of the Rogue Defense Force. We’ve been working closely with the New Caniss PD to get you guys out of that arena.”

His gaze is as deep and green as the ocean. When he grabs another cotton swab, I notice the way his short brown hair feathers his temple. He’s a little older than the other one—the alpha with purple eyes—and definitely stronger for it.

“I apologize for what happened during the raid,” he says. “Rest assured, Jaxon wouldn’t have barked at you if it wasn’t for your own safety.”

Jaxon. Caleb. I roll the names around in my head.

He tends to my knuckles next. The scabs are raw, instantly reminding me of my fight with K-4. I wish I could ask Caleb if he’s seen her. If she’s okay.

My hands give a feeble twitch.

“So.” He secures the bandages. “Can you actually hear me, or are you just reading my lips?”

I blink. How did he—?

“You can’t speak,” he says, simply. “Which made me think maybe you can’t hear.”

I scowl at him.

“Alright then. You can sign?”

Tersely, I nod.

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