Chapter 10
Ronan
A sharp rap on my barracks door startles me, causing my head to snap up from the worn pages of the book I’m reading. I use the term loosely, of course, because in reality, all I’m doing is staring at the lines as the words blur together. My mind is stuck inside an abandoned house with an infuriating human, too distracted to actually read.
“It’s just me,” Elas calls from the other side, and the churning tension in my gut settles as I yell for him to enter. His eyes dart around the room like he’s expecting an ambush, before he finally shuts the door behind him. “How’d it go last night?” We saw each other across the courtyard when I returned, silently communicating what we could, but the chaos made it impossible to have a conversation.
“Which part?” I ask, flopping onto my couch with an exhausted sigh. “The improvised escape plan, sneaking a dog from the fenced yard of some pompous captain while it tried to lick me to death, dropping my bleeding mate off in a trashy abandoned house, or the never-ending interrogation waiting when I got back?” Only a couple of hours have passed since I made it to my room, leaving me without enough time to sleep before my next watch rotation.
“Um, well… all of it?” He offers me a half-smile that turns into a grimace. “Did Bravis try to pull the whole disappointed father act?”
“For about two minutes,” I snort, gesturing at the seat across from me, and he runs to the fridge to grab us both a drink before he sits. “That act hasn’t worked on me in decades, and we both know it.”
Elas grins around the rim of his drink. “Did he call you son?”
“Once, and it looked like it pained him to say it as much as it turned my stomach to hear it.” I take a long swig of water. “That ship sailed long ago.”
Bravis took us both in as young men. He molded us to be the perfect soldiers... his personal killing machines. The idolization we once held for him died a quick death as we got older, though, and saw him for what he really is—a monster among monsters.
I clear my throat, focusing on Elas once more. “Cameron saw me kill a man.”
Elas’s eyebrows rise, but he lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “I mean, it was inevitable someone was going to die in the middle of a mass escape.”
“He watched me snap a man’s neck with my bare hands.”
“Oh.” A quiet laugh huffs from between my lips at his apprehension. “How’d, uh… how’d that go?”
The corner of my mouth upticks as I remember Cameron’s lips near my ear, his breath warm on my skin as he encouraged me to end that man’s vile existence. There are some thorns hidden amongst his petals, after all. “Surprisingly, it might’ve been the highlight of the day. The body came in handy… on my way to steal the dog, I swung into the chaos and grabbed the body. Have you ever tried to look casual with a corpse over your shoulders? Because it is not easy, even in the middle of a riot. I was able to hide it behind a dumpster until I got back, then put it in the van and said he’d escaped. Justified my leaving.”
“Waste not, want not,” he muses, raising his glass in a toast. “You dropped Cameron off safely?”
“Yeah,” I say softly, remembering the heat of his body as he stood so close to me in the dark. The near-silent whine that slipped from his throat as he pushed closer, fingers grabbing at my armor.
I could’ve had him, then, if just for a moment.
Could’ve tasted his lips against mine.
But my years in this world have taught me my limits, and if I’d let him kiss me, there wouldn’t have been any leaving him behind. Any boundaries I’ve managed to establish would’ve been blown away, and I would’ve stayed right there with him, unprepared and impulsive. It would only put Cameron in danger, but even knowing that, walking away was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
“And?”
“And I told him it’ll take me a few days to return with more supplies.”
“How’d that go?”
“He was fucking furious about me leaving, and if there was ever any question about whether he’s afraid to speak his mind, I can say with certainty that the answer is a resounding no.” I chuckle, but there’s no humor behind it. “ I, uh… I asked if he’ll be at the cabin when I return.” It’s quiet for a moment, and Elas watches me with a guarded expression. “He doesn’t know.”
Elas’s lips pull tight, his tusks jutting from his lower jaw. “Doesn’t know what ?”
“If he’ll be there.”
“Shit,” he mutters, dragging his hand over his mouth. “You’re not going to just let him go, are you?”
I shrug, my gut twisting at the thought. “It’s his choice… I promised him that much.”
“Fuck that, Ronan. Really?”
“What would you have me do, Elas? He already views me as a monster, and I refuse to prove him right by being one.” Quieter, I say, “He asked if I’d be willing to walk away from this life and leave with him.”
“And you said give me a day to pack my bags?”
I scoff at the simplistic way Elas views the world. It’s always been that way for him, his existence black and white while I live in the gray. “I told him the same thing that he told me… that I don’t know. My whole life, everything I’ve ever known, is the military. If I walked away from it, what does that mean? Was my life wasted? Was it all for fucking nothing?” I meet his eyes, his dark ones filled with a profound understanding. “Without the military, every atrocious thing we’ve ever done suddenly belongs to me. I own it. There’s no one else to carry the burden of that guilt.”
“We were following orders.”
“Orders we knew were wrong.” He doesn’t argue with me, just takes a deep breath as I drag my hands over my face, shaking my head. “What good would I be doing out in the wastelands, roaming the world?”
“You’d be protecting your mate. ”
“Stop using that word like it gives me some iron-clad, indisputable claim to him. He is a person , one who makes his own choices, and trust me, that infuriatingly stubborn man will do whatever he wants to do, regardless. What happens when he decides he doesn’t want a mate? That he doesn’t want to be paired with a monster for eternity and is better off without me?” I slam my bottle on the table, my fingers squeezing around the glass until they ache. “What then, Elas?”
He stares at me for a stretch before leaning into the cushions and draping his ankle over his knee, a smile spreading across his mouth. “Are you feeling insecure, Ronan?”
“Oh, fuck all the way off.” My arms cross over my chest as I sit back, twisting my head to stare at the wall instead of his stupid face.
“He asked you to go with him.”
“No, he didn’t. The question was whether I’d be willing to go with him. It wasn’t an invitation, it was a test.”
“Which you failed miserably, from the sound of it.”
Refusing to answer, my mind drifts again to the hidden house, and I wonder how long it took him to leave. How many minutes went by before he decided it wasn’t worth the risk of waiting? Did he think twice before grabbing the pack and running? Was I ever even an option, or was it nothing more than a strategy to get out of that prison?
And why does that thought hurt so much?
“Did you find August?”
He recognizes the change of subject for what it is, and for a moment, I think he’s going to push the matter. Whatever he sees in my face gives him pause, and he purses his lips before he sighs. His hand seesaws in front of him. “Sort of. Several rebels died in the escape attempt, and the survivors magically found a newfound gratefulness to be alive. They were more willing to cooperate once they were locked in their new cells.”
“Imagine that,” I mutter, and he snorts a laugh.
“There’s an August listed on the register of names they started. If he’s a medic, I might be able to get him into a work program. The base always needs extra hands in the hospital, assuming Cameron’s correct about him having an agreeable attitude. If we’re being honest, though, I’m not positive I trust your snarky man to make that assessment.”
“Don’t blame you for that,” I mutter, wondering if Cameron will even be around to hear the news when we get it.
“What happened when you got back to base?”
“Commander Bravis ripped me a new asshole.” My ears still ring from the lecture. The commander loves to hear himself talk on a good day, and loves to chew someone out even more. “Spent an hour screaming that I was careless to leave base, then another one yelling about not following protocol. He finally calmed down once I showed him Bruce’s body and convinced him he was the ringleader.”
“He believed your claim that he’d slipped past the walls?”
I shrug. “A few of the chattier prisoners mentioned his name as the one who was unlocking the cells, so the story lined up. Did anyone give you grief about our visits to the cells over the past week?”
“Nah,” he says with a careless wave of his hand. “The guards at the door were always different, and like I said before, we have every right to be there. Now, I’ve given you time, so stop avoiding the question.”
“Question?” I ask, glancing at his smug grin.
“Don’t play dumb, it’s beneath you. What are you going to do about Cameron? Take him those supplies in a few days, and then… what? Throw the Fates a big middle finger? Say goodbye and watch your mate…” He catches himself as my glare sharpens. “… your man walk away from you, back into the wastelands?”
“What else can I do, Elas?” I snap, hands flying into the air in front of me. “Leave behind everything I’ve ever known for a human who doesn’t even want me around?”
He stares at me, chewing on his lip with his foot bouncing underneath him. “I think if the Fates gave me a mate, I’d guard that shit with my life. It’s a gift, Ronan.”
“It’s only been a week since you were calling it a curse!”
“Yeah, okay, that’s fair, but back then I didn’t know it was real. This changes everything.”
Thick silence settles between us, my mind racing over the miles to the decaying house where I stowed Cameron away. Something akin to shame roils in my stomach, wanting to provide him with more than a run-down shack.
A nagging doubt gnaws at my insides as I question what worth I’d have in his life. Out there, I have nothing to offer beyond brute force and combat skills, and while they’ll be useful in protecting him, they aren’t enough. He’s the one who’s scavenged his way through life, smart and cunning, and me?
Nothing but a mindless warrior.
Inadequate in what I would bring to his life .
But when I consider that the last time I saw him could be the final time, something ancient and primal claws at my insides, bellowing its rage at my inaction. It’s a raw, physical agony, every fiber of my being screaming in protest with a need to ravage the world until I find him. A demand to scour every hidden hole and quiet corner of the planet until I’m sure he’s safe… take my snarky, sarcastic human and tuck him away where he can’t be found or hurt.
It’s irrational, illogical… and overwhelming.
An entire life spent in unwavering routine and rigid structure, and now it surrounds me like a cage, my arms against the bars and my feet itching to escape.
“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Elas asks, and I refocus on him and narrow my eyes at his goofy grin. “You get this love-struck look on your—”
He ducks as my half-empty water bottle hurtles towards his head, barely missing its target. “Shut up before I kick you out,” I growl, but he only smiles wider.