Page 41 of Unlikely Omega

“You don’t remember?” Ariadne nudges her horse forward, too. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

It’s not entirely a lie. I remember parts, glimpses as if from a dream. And I don’t want to talk about it. So I cluck my tongue and take the lead again. A coward’s move, I know that. Not facing my actions. Not facing my desires.

Not facing her.

I slow down and shift on the saddle, realize I’m wincing and school my face into an impassive mask. The cut in my side burns, my bruised ribs ache dully. My jaw throbs.

And the inside of my head is a damn mess.

I want her. So damn badly. I’ve never wanted any woman or man with this force before. Never thought it possible for a body to yearn for another so much. It’s as if my rational mind is bypassed by an ancient instinct, ignoring all the discipline I instilled in it for my whole life.

Discipline? Control? Ha. Take that, priest, my body is telling me, the smug bastard. I want her and you have no say in it.

Only I do, which is why the moment I realized what I was doing—that I was kissing her, touching her, about to fuck her, dammit—I yanked myself as far away from her as I could possibly go for two people forced together by circumstance and on the run.

“Wait for me! Finn!” She canters after me, the two horses tied to her horse neighing as they have no choice but to follow.

Pressing my lips together, grinding my jaw, I keep going. Keep moving, that’s the trick, not stop and think.

Not about last night and not about what has come before—my transfer to the province Temple, my efforts to blend in, the death of my parents, Ariadne’s arrest and then mine, and finally our escape.

Our flight through the countryside with a vague goal in mind. A beacon that I’m not even sure is lit.

I was supposed to stay out of the unrest, to not give anyone any reason, ever, to suspect and accuse me, and now my parents’ sacrifice was for nothing.

All for fucking nothing!

I canter down a slope toward a stream I can hear gurgling. It’s like I’m trying to escape time, escape reality. I need a moment to collect my wits.

The moment the horse slows down, I jump off and stagger to the stream. I crouch down, plunge my hands into the icy water, draw a sharp breath.

“Nyx. Briareus. Can you hear me? Have you ever heard me? What am I doing here? What am I supposed to do?” I bow over the stream. “I know you didn’t choose me, but I have served you faithfully until now. Dammit, please give me a sign. Tell me what to do.”

“Finn!” The sound of beating hooves reverberates through the ground. I feel it in my bones as she comes down the small slope toward me. “What is the matter with you? Why didn’t you wait?”

I grind my teeth—against anger, against panic, against the pain of my parents’ passing and my own failure. The stream goes on its way, no reply forthcoming. Maybe if I danced, if I performed the rituals, if—

“Finn!”

“Shut up!” I yell, rising and turning toward her. “Shut up and fuck off. Leave me alone.”

“What? You don’t mean that.”

“And how would you know that, huh?” Bitterness pours out of me like venom. “You don’t really know me. You know jack shit about me. I came with you because they threw us into that cage together.”

“You don’t mean it,” she says again, more quietly.

“I was going to leave you in that dungeon,” I say, my words coming out like poison from an infected wound. “I don’t care if you live or die. All I care about is myself.”

“Finn…”

“My name is Finnen, not Finn. Take the horses and leave.”

“You’re an asshole!”

“Never said I wasn’t,” I mutter, because being petty and cruel is easier when you feel as if the ground is collapsing underneath your feet than facing it all. “Go!”

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