Page 20 of Ronan

He gestures between us with a vague wave of his hand. “You seem… nice, and all, y’know… as far as monsters go, but I don’t need a mate. That’s not…” He trails off and shakes his head. “I’m good. Thanks, though.”

Astonished, my mouth hangs open as his words sink in. “Thanks?” I repeat, incredulous, and my voice raises as my temper flares. “Thanks, though?!”

He flinches but holds his ground, lifting his chin in defiance as he nods. “Appreciate the interest, and, uh, good luck with…” He gestures towards my hand. “… all that. If it’s alright, I’d like to return to my cell now.”

A low, surprised whistle comes from Elas as my mouth opens and closes, unable to form the words torespond. Unfazed, Cameron stands and stretches, snatching what remains of the loaf of bread from the tray. “You won’t mind if I take this, though? Fuck, I’ll have to hide it in my shirt so the others don’t steal it.”

My body snaps into action without my permission, the chair slamming to the ground with a loud crash as I storm around the table. Cameron’s eyes widen as I shove his shoulders, knocking his back against the wall with a thud. A searing heat, uncontrolled as a wildfire, races through my veins the moment we touch, and my entire body is charring with its flames.

“My bread!” he cries as the loaf falls to the floor, and I push his shoulders again, forcing his eyes to mine.

“You would deny me?” My voice is low and threatening, and fear flashes across his face before he smoothes it into his usual bored indifference.

“You would assault me and growl like a feral beast rather than having a civil conversation? Tell me, does the wordnomean anything to you, or do you just take what you want?” he counters, and I falter, retreating a half step. “Consider my point of view for two godsdamned seconds, Ronan. I’ve been beaten and kidnappedtwice… thrown into different jail cells. I don’t even know these people, but I’m accused of sharing their crimes. Then you drag me from my cell and tell me… what? You’re mydestiny? Themissing piece of my soul?”

A muscle in my jaw jumps at his sarcastic air quotes, and my tails, usually neatly tucked into my armor, burst free, lashing behind me in a display of irritation. His throat bobs with a nervous swallow, tracking the whip-like appendages as they move in perfect sync.

My chest rises in a deep breath as I try to force calm into my voice. “I understand this is a lot to take in—”

“No, I don’t think you do,” he snaps, his cool façade finally disappearing. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t have me pinned, trying to rub your scent on me like a fucking animal.” The truth in his words hits me in a punch and I stumble backward, putting space between us. Cameron wilts, eyes closing as his head thunks against the wall. “This was not how I saw my week going,” he mutters, and for the first time, his stress shows itself, front and center.

Pushing my own tangled emotions aside, I force myself to really look at Cameron. Anxiety lines his face and tension weighs on his body. Exhaustion hangs over him like a cloud, as if he could fall asleep and not wake for an entire week.

Guilt eats at my insides as I take another step backward and lean against the table. He opens a single eye by a sliver, glancing at me as some of his tightness eases.

It doesn’t feel like a victory, but maybe a delicate truce.

“What can I do to help?” Both of his eyes snap open as his brows try to meet in the middle of his forehead.

“I’m locked up… in a rebel prison… and you have to fucking ask?” I flinch, dropping my gaze to the ground as I nod, realizing that I am, in fact, an idiot.

“Elas and I are working on a plan to free you, but it’s not something that can happen overnight.” There’s no official log of the prisoners, because unless you live in the control of the big cities, identification cards are a thing of the past. Half of the rebels aren’t willing to speak, much less give their names. In such a large group, a single missingprisoner would be chalked up to a miscount and no one would bat an eye.

“What happens when you get me out?” he demands, his agitated hands flailing. “Let’s say you’re actually able to release me from this fetid, rat-infested hellhole… what then? I owe you a life debt and am stuck by your side? Youownme?”

Disgust twists my features at the implication of his words. “No,” I say, voice low as I stretch the word. “You would be free to do whatever you want.”

“Simple as that? Just…poof, gone? Even if it meant letting me walk away, never seeing you again? That’s big talk from a man who was just preaching about being fated mates.”

Pain rips through my chest, and I tear my eyes from his, staring at the wall. “If that’s what you truly desired, then yes, I would do it.” A scoff, sharp and dismissive, makes it abundantly clear he thinks I’m lying.

And really, who can blame him?

“You may not believe me, Cameron,” I say, voice quiet, “but I am not the monster you have painted me to be in your mind.”

Not with this…

Not with him.

In spite of my colorful, bloody history, I already know I could never hurt the man in front of me... no matter how much I want to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. There are lines that even the worst of men don’t cross. Despite the way my instincts scream at me to take him, to make him mine, I’d never force myself on him.

Would never take what wasn’t freely given.

Cameron says nothing, just continues to stare at me with that disbelieving expression on his face. The silence is deafening, ringing in my ears as I stand and wipe my palms on the leather of my armor.

“Alright, then. Let’s get you to your cell,” I say as I walk towards the door, fighting the urge to rub at my chest. The rejection took more out of me than I had anticipated. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry for my behavior… before. You don’t know me, and all I’ve done is…” I trail off, shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get more bread to replace the one you dropped.”

“Find out what happened to my dog,” Cameron blurts from behind me, and I pause, glancing over my shoulder at him. He pushes off the wall and takes a cautious step closer. “Boomerang… she’s a German Shepherd mix. Can’t bark, only makes a strained, raspy sound. When I was captured, she was taken along with me. Find out…” He swallows, the emotion in his voice potent. “Find out what happened to her, good or bad, and I’ll consider joining in whatever scheme you concoct.”

---