Page 124 of Scavenger's Oath
As we round the corner to the main street, the police station finally comes into view.
Myles stalks beside me, skull mask covering his scowl, still keyed up from stringing up the three bodies he took out earlier.
We hung them next to the others that Zane and I decorated our perimeter with like a garland. Some hung by their feet, others by their neck. Each one a warning.
Fear is cheaper than ammo.
They shouldn’t have been able to get the drop on us. For years, we’ve had this town rigged with explosives, traps and even bells… because occasionally we enjoy getting our hands dirty.
But we’ve been distracted since we took in our little stray.
Even now, Myles and I are powering through the street to get back to her. Fresh blood seeps through the bandage on his arm—her work, so he wouldn’t let me fix it.
My thoughts keep circling back to Ivy.
I knew the situation she escaped was bad. But I didn’t think the cult would be stupid enough to raid uslike that.
Myles wants blood now, but I’ve ordered rest. We need a plan first.
Our group is fraying. I saw it coming from the start. One woman walks in and every system goes belly up.
But it’s more than that. I’m worried about Zane. I just hope that whatever the fuck is going on with him, Ivy can reach him. They got close over the last month.
He’s torturing himself over his past, thinking he doesn’t deserve her, but I see the way she looks at him.
Pushing through the front door, Myles and I make our way down the hall to the showers. Passing the kitchen, something catches my eye.
Zane’s silhouette stands at the fridge. He’s shirtless as usual but something’s off. I stop dead in my tracks.
Sweat glistens on his skin as he leans in and grabs a water bottle.
Then I notice the fresh claw marks down his back, too faint to be from anything but feminine nails. A pink curved line of a bite on his shoulder. Combat pants unbuttoned and hanging low on his hips. Dark hair ruffled with grooves only dainty fingers could make.
He moves slow, muscles loose. In the kind of relaxed haze that only comes after you empty yourself into someone.
The room narrows and ice floods my veins. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” I snarl.
Zane freezes, water bottle in hand. Then turns slowly like he’s buying himself seconds to figure out if lying would make this worse.
Myles strides past me, eyes locked on Zane. “Are you fucking serious?!” he shouts, voice already climbing. “Inmybed?”
“Don't,” I warn, stepping in before Myles gets within swinging distance.
The look on his face says he’ll break Zane’s jaw, and part of me wants that. Part of me wants to beat Zane’s ass myself.
But I can’t let that happen. Not when we’re gearing up for war.
Myles is breathing like a bull ready to charge, fists twitching at his sides.
Gritting my teeth, I turn back to Zane. “You fucked her?” The words come out controlled. But they taste like blood.
Zane hesitates. “Yeah,” he admits, voice tense.
And that one syllable feels like a blade between my ribs. Because Ivy is hurt.
She flinched this afternoon when I tried to check her face for fractures. She refused to eat anything solid because of the pain.
And Zane took one look and decided this was the perfect time to fuck her.
