Page 96 of Faith and Fury

“Compassion?” His head snaps to me. “You think C-6 is gonna show you any of that tomorrow?”

I can handle it, I sign, exasperatedly.

“I don’t care. It was stupid.”

My blood boils, but not because he’s wrong. Giving up my last meal before a big fight was a stupid thing to do. It’s just … these new recruits have it tough. They’re young—some of the youngest we’ve seen down here.

She reminded me of someone, I sign at last. From home.

At this, Fang stops. He knows I was plucked off the streets, like most of the rogues here, but what came before that … I’ve only told him in snippets.

Someone from your foster pack? he opts to sign back.

Sister. At his astonished look, I add, Not by blood.

He purses his lips. “Not much to go around, I’m guessing.”

Not for omegas.

A soft growl tears from his chest. I bristle, looking around—aggression is strictly forbidden in the cells, even growling—but the guards are too busy with their morning routine to notice.

“Sorry,” Fang grunts. “I just … hate all that shit. Hate you had to grow up in it.”

What do you mean? I ask, frowning.

“Packs—” he spits the word out like it’s toxic. “Don’t care how righteous they think they are—they’re all the same. Putting alphas on pedestals. Letting omegas feed on scraps. It’s archaic.”

I say nothing. Honestly … I thought Fang’s idea of pack life would be more romantic. Before he got here, it was just him and his deadbeat father. What young alpha wouldn’t dream of being part of something bigger?

“Here.” Fang digs into his pocket, pulling out a crumbling bread roll.

My eyes widen. But this is—

“Just eat. Need you to keep your strength up.”

I look at him, my heart squeezing, before accepting the roll. Fang relaxes the more I eat. He puts a hand on the side of my face, tracing my scar with his thumb.

You and me, he signs. We need to protect each other.

I swallow. Nod. Always.

In Fang’s eyes, I see his fear, and mine. Without each other, we’re nothing.

And yet I can’t help but wonder what it was that made him give up on pack life—something most alphas, and omegas, are hard-wired to seek out. Maybe, after all those years alone with his father, he convinced himself he didn’t want it.

Maybe that was easier than dreaming.

Chapter Forty-Three

Caleb

“Here we are,” Maverick says, putting the car in park. “Den sweet den.”

I stare up at my apartment building with a cold mix of exhaustion, dread, and longing. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Thanks for the promotion.”

I cast him a look. “Keep up the good work, and we’ll see.”

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