Page 35 of Unlikely Omega

“You weren’t listening to me before,” he says softly. “You can’t ignore a god, not for long. I should have been open with you, explained. I should have taken that chance. What happened is on me.”

“No,” I say. “It was never on you to protect me.”

He reaches for my hand and I lift it off the bars to slide my palm against his. “I took on that responsibility and I don’t regret it.” He clasps my hand. “Keep an eye out for the guards. Let’s be ready to break free.”

But nobody comes all day and all night. No food, no water, no visitors. We doze off, each on our side of the wall, or at least I do, and he’s quiet on his side.

I still don’t understand our connection, and I’m sorry he got pulled into this, but I can’t deny I’m glad to share this darkness with someone, no matter the outcome.

When the guards finally enter, holding lanterns and making a racket, there are at least six of them, and they aren’t here to provide food or explanations.

“Out with you,” one of them shouts and one of them unlocks our cells. “Holy shit, they untied themselves. It doesn’t matter. In the cage, they won’t need to be tied.”

Cage?

Finnen roars when they grab him and half-carry him, fighting them. When the guards grab me, though, when I yelp as they lift me up, he stills.

“Ariadne?” he calls out. “Are you all right?”

That earns him a punch to the face and I gasp, twisting in the guards’ hold, trying to see him, but we’re already being hauled out of the dungeons and through the fort yard, toward the grand gate.

A cage. I see it now, mounted on wheels, pulled by two horses. Two more riders wait, flanking it. Our transport to the Summer Capital is here.

I’m too weak from lack of nourishment to fight much as they drag me there. My mouth is parched. My hope is going out. They throw me into the cage, and then they punch again a stubborn Finnen and kick him in with me.

Blood runs down his chin from a split in his lip, and over one eye crimson drips from a gash into a pale brow. He growls as he sits up, looking like a war god in the midst of battle.

The cage door bangs closed and one of the guards puts a lock on it, throwing the key to one of the riders. “Off you go. Make haste. They’re wily creatures and you don’t want them escaping.”

“Escaping this cage?” The rider laughs. “That’s Iremian steel, my friend. Nobody can break it, much less some Fae-blooded weakling.”

“Godspeed,” the guard says and the coachman sitting at the front cracks the reins.

It’s gray dawn and the clergy hasn’t even turned up to watch us go. They’ve decided our fate and washed their hands clean of us.

“Now what?” I whisper as the horses neigh and lurch forward. The two riders spur their mounts onward at a lazy pace.

“We’ll escape from this cage,” he grunts, settling into a crouch and grabbing onto the cage bars, white hair falling in his face. “And that’s a fact.”

We roll out of the fort yard, over the moat and through the small, old town surrounding it. The sun comes up, lending us some warmth although clouds keep rolling over it. We’re not dressed for outdoors in our thin dark robes and the thin undergarments below. My bare feet ache with the cold.

Crouched on one side of the cage, Finnen seems to be in deep thought. Where I’m mesmerized by the landscape rolling by, which he of course can’t see, he seems to be muttering to himself, rocking a little on his heels. He has pulled his hood over his head once more so that he looks like a black crow—and in a black mood.

No idea how he thinks to escape. He was confident back in the dungeons and it came to nothing. How are we to escape a steel cage with guards flanking us, rolling through the countryside? We don’t even have a weapon to our name.

And on top of that, the cramps in my belly have restarted. Being in forced proximity to Finnen seems to be the culprit. His scent keeps finding me, tugging on me.

My body has decided to do its thing, overrule any other priority in favor of need. What, though? Finnen’s scent calls to me, makes me want to lean against him, touch him, have him touch me back. I’m aroused, I feel it, the ache inside me needing him—but that’s ridiculous. We’re caged, on our way to be trialed and probably hanged. I should be able to control this impulse, my mind should reign over my body.

It's damn frustrating that I can’t seem to have any power over my basic urges anymore. All the dreams I’ve had feel like nothing compared to this nauseating tug inside of me, this obsession taking over my thoughts.

I need Finnen to fill me up. To hold me down and push into me. To scratch me and bite me and hurt me and mark me.

“Maiden Goddess, help me.” This is the worst time ever for this to happen. I wish it never had. “Tell me what to do.”

But why should she? I don’t belong to her anymore. Probably never have.

“Drakai,” I think I hear God Sidde’s voice inside my head, and shiver. “Drakai evenen.”

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