Page 50 of Scavenger's Oath
Ivy doesn't scramble for the blanket or try to cover herself. Spine straight, she tilts her chin, ever so slightly. She doesn't look like the kind of girl who even survives this world. And yet, somehow, she has.
She's notcomfortable, but she's not the same broken, trembling thing Zane described. Her body is smaller than I remember, and that dainty little form shouldn't look so enticing... but it does.
Ivy,the little stray.
I arch a brow. “Doesn't that sweater get hotduring the day?”
She nods once. Calm. “It does.”
That answer throws me off more than if she’d screamed. She didn't hesitate. There was no panic in her voice.
Stepping further inside, I let the door click shut behind me. My boots echo against the tile, but she doesn't react to the sound, just keeps watching me. That stare is unnerving.
“Thought so.” I gesture to the hoodie. “I could bring you a shirt.”
“You have women's clothing?” she asks, hopeful.
“No.” I shake my head slightly. “It won't fit you. But it'll be better than that hoodie.”
There's a beat of silence as she looks like she's trying to figure out the trap in my offer.
Smart girl.
She already knows how this works.
Crouching by the bars, I rest my arms across my thighs. “It costs us, you know,” I say, rubbing my jaw. “To keep you fed. Sheltered. Protected. Eventually, you'll need to show us that you're worth the risk. That you can offersomethingback.”
Letting the words linger, I allow my eyes to trail over her legs again. She's not trying to seduce me, not deliberately, like Zane described. But she doesn't need to. It's just the soft quietness, the contrast to the chaos we live in.
My mouth starts to water.
What is happening to me?I’m way off script. Offering to bring her new clothes? Stealing glances at her legs? This is bad.
She gives the faintest nod, and I hate how satisfying that feels.
“I don't know what your game is, little stray,” I mutter. “But you've stirred up enough shit in this place without saying a damn word.”
Ivy’s eyes widen a little, big but still calm, with a hint of remorse. The tension in her shoulders betrays her. Carrying the kind of guilt that wants a chance at forgiveness.
My lips curl in a smirk, because that's useful.
I've found her weak spot... much quicker than Myles did.
Pushing up to my feet, I see her stiffen slightly, before I take a step toward her door.
“I'm not letting you go,” I say dryly as I unlock her cell. “Just ten minutes. To stretch your legs.”
This wasn’t part of the plan. But I can’t stop.
She doesn't move when I open the door. Just shakes her head faintly. “Myles… he won’t like—”
“Myles doesn't run this place,” I cut in. “I do. And if it's easier for you, we don't have to tell him… could be our little secret.”
Her eyes narrow slightly. The hesitation is there, written all over her body.
But I'm patient.
Eventually, she rises cautiously and walks to the edge of the cell before waiting a beat, as if she’s about to cross a literal line in the sand. Then she steps forward, bare feet meeting the tile.
