Chapter 23
DIANA
Through a single ray of morning sun, dust particles gently float over the black rose that I’ve since laid on a table, watching it like I’m trying to decipher what it means.
Why would she give this to me? It’s meant to heal broken hearts? To ease that ache? It hardly makes sense to me, honestly.
I don’t have it in me to ask about Titan because I’m not looking forward to any possible answer that’s not ‘oh, it magically disappeared and everyone lived happily ever after’.
Nearing the table, I turn the rose over in my hand. Other than being the color of ink and not needing water, it just seems like any rose. The petals are impossibly soft…
I should ask Judge. What if he needs me?
That sense of betraying my own kind by, well, maybe even loving that man, is so distant in my mind.
When we were at Grimm’s, it was so clear through the bond how much he was taking from the mess of our temporary nest. How he has wounds so deep, I don’t think he’ll heal them all in this lifetime.
And I felt it. The reprieve that being with me gave him—
The door opens, and Judge fills the frame. I don’t even know how many days ago it was that I stood in this very spot of his room with beef jerky in my hand, and now I stand here wearing his scent like it’s something I would fight another over.
Judge’s pale eyes track from the rose in my hands to my face, cataloging whatever he sees there. Something softens in his expression, just slightly. Just enough. "You're thinking too loud again,” he comments, stepping in with the sound of his leather jacket adjusting with each step.
“Stop listening, then,” I tease, placing the rose down. He follows the motion with his gaze and doesn’t address it further.
“That’s never going to happen.” His footsteps are heavy on the wooden floor, and I pop a hip out and quirk a brow. He stops in front of me, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. "Come on. I want to show you something."
"What?"
"The pack. Dominion. How things work here." His jaw tightens, just slightly. "What your life could look like. If you let it."
My eyes widen. “Seriously?”
“Get dressed. Or wear that,” he says, looking me over appraisingly. “I won’t say no.”
“You’d let me strut out there with no underwear on, wearing only this?” I pop out the oversized shirt to make a point.
His grin is laced with something possessive. “You’re my mate here, Diana. You could strut out there naked with your ass up, and no one would touch you. Especially,” his fingers gently laced around my throat, “once you have a tattoo.”
Oh my god, my body acts as if he just proposed the sexiest thing ever, and it’s about branding me.
That intensity darkens in his gaze, and before I know it, the alpha is growling to bring out the slick of his omega.
There’s nothing really ceremonial or romantic in the way Judge turns me over against a chair, the sound of him unbuckling and unzipping making me even wetter.
His cock spreads me like it always does, and I rock back and forth to his fucking. He lifts up my shirt from behind, and I know it’s to get a better view of him disappearing into me over and over. I’m almost jealous that I don’t get to watch, too.
His presence smothers me as he leans over, his jacket rubbing against me as his fingers find my clit, and I shiver at the stimulation while I stare at the creamy wall ahead of me.
“I will never say no to you walking around with my cum leaking out of you,” he grunts, which turns into another growl as if he’s getting off on imagining me strutting around and covered in his scent.
“And I’ll be obliged,” a deeper thrust, “to fuck you,” another one that makes me moan, “right in front of them all.”
My orgasm rips through like he owns my body, which shudders as I clench his cock in waves of pleasure. His grunts are feral until he’s gripping my hips so hard they’re probably bruising. Judge is fully balls deep inside of me as his hot cum spurts against my womb.
I better not be going into heat soon, because that idea makes me want to turn him over and ride him again…
There’s something I enjoy about the forced wait while his knot slowly reduces in size, squirting cum periodically until it leaks around the both of us. We have our most random conversations then, if I’m not sleeping.
I do change my clothes, throwing on something a bit modest just because I’ve never really worn anything else in my life.
I think of Scorch and the Black Mirage, and that maybe one day I’ll venture out in style.
But for now, it’s just black pants, a black shirt, and a gold bracelet that Judge gave me when I said I’m missing some jewelry.
He doesn’t seem pleased that I ditched the cum-stained shirt of his. “I’m not wearing that for my first outing here.”
He snorts behind me as we leave his room through the front door. “Just know that when you need a favor from me, that’s exactly what I’m going to ask for in return.”
Alright, maybe my heat is coming up already because that’s turning me on. Which would make sense, given the engagers before… but I don’t linger on that thought because we’re quickly moving through parts of this place that are covered in people. Nothing like the empty halls of before.
I don't look at them directly, but I feel them clock me anyway. The way their eyes flick to my neck first, and suddenly I feel naked without a tattoo here. It’s like wearing the uniform that announces who I am, which is something I’ve always done my entire life.
Nobody speaks to us, thought.
Judge moves with purpose, his stride long and unhurried, and I match his pace without thinking about it. The bond hums between us, warm and steady.
And, dare I admit it, something like love.
We did not last long in public before Judge had to be pulled away, and I returned to his space. I keep glancing at the attic door as the room starts to darken with the setting sun, finding that I just have forgiveness for him.
He’s quite literally far from perfect, and yet I love the way he’s authentic. Maybe it’s just that I’m getting to understand what that looks like in him.
When he returns, I’m busy chewing on a nail as my body stiffens when the door opens.
He doesn’t even come in very far before motioning to the door. “Let’s go. I got something to show you.”
The way I trust him as I rise to my feet, ever curious what a surprise looks like from a leader of a biker gang, is pure testament to how one never knows where life will go.
I'm absolutely invested in him at this point, and there’s no reason to feign otherwise.
What’s he going to surprise me with? A tattoo?
A particularly impressive severed head? More hot chocolate?
Judge is beside me as we walk, noticing that once again, the halls are filled more than usual. When we turn a corner, I recognize the space almost instantly—there’s a certain light fixture I only saw outside of the scraps.
"I swear if you're moving me back in here..." I start, my voice sharp with warning.
He glances at me, and there's a flicker of amusement in those pale eyes. "Yeah, I thought it would be helpful to our relationship. Really strengthen the bond."
I throw him a look, one that he has said more than once he thinks is hilarious. The bastard is actually teasing me. I smile despite myself, a laugh escaping before I can stop it. "You're not funny."
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
I’m flustered as if he’s a real catch of a man, my heart racing when we’re at the door as I realize I might see everyone again. “I’m trusting you,” I warn.
“It’s empty inside. You’ll understand.”
“Oh, the ladies are with the others? Like with the other mateless omegas?” I ask with hope.
“No, that’s not the surprise,” he answers, and it helps ground me that this is, in fact, a Judge I do know.
Of course, he wouldn’t make that change so quickly.
Walking through the space is like entering a vague memory that has all the colors wrong, filled with the scents of women I found kinship with, even though I barely know them.
Then my jaw drops.
The door to the courtyard is wide open, which explains the breeze, and it’s completely transformed.
I strut out that way, Judge stopping to motion for a large coat near the entrance.
It’s his bomber jacket, and I throw on the oversized thing, lifting my gaze once more to take in the snow-kissed scene.
Strings of lights crisscross overhead, their warm glow turning the cold stone into something almost magical.
A massive tent has been set up near the far wall, its canvas sides rolled up to reveal the space within.
Two oil barrels burn next to it, their flames dancing against the darkness, casting everything in shades of orange and gold.
Inside the tent, there's a table set for two.
Actual chairs, too. A small fire pit is filled with glowing coals that radiate heat into the winter air.
I can see food laid out, steam rising from covered dishes, and a small brass bell sitting on the corner of the table, like this is some kind of restaurant I saw in any magazines that survived, especially the cooking ones.
And there, at the center of the table, is—
"My mug."
I cross the distance without deciding to, my hands reaching out before my brain catches up. It's real. The ceramic handle is worn just at the top so some of the black reveals the cream underneath, the faded image of sea turtles swimming across the surface, and it has the small chip on the rim.
And of course, there's steaming hot chocolate inside.
"Judge." His name comes out so gently.
He's watching me with an expression of pure satisfaction, softened by something gentle and warm beneath. Something that looks almost like hope. He sits in the chair opposite me.