Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
MAYA
I fully expect Poe to drag me to his room and toss me on the nearest flat surface. But he surprises me by stopping at a totally different door and pushing it open with a rueful smile cast over one shoulder.
“I’m covered in Ares’s sweat, and I really need to soak this shoulder before it swells up. You mind?”
With a noncommittal shrug, I follow him into the expansive bathroom that I’d only gotten the briefest look at before. The sunken tub at the center of the room is as impressive as I remember it, large enough to take up the space of a small pool and surrounded by glimmering tile.
Poe moves to fill the tub, obviously favoring his shoulder. “You’re welcome to join me.”
It’s purely a suggestion, his eyebrows raised with earnest hope rather than expectation.
I have no idea what to do with this softer side of him.
Logan’s domineering attitude naturally invites resistance, Cillian’s lack of knowledge about Omegas is an obvious weakness and Ares has been easy to avoid so far.
But Poe has me disarmed. At least, until I figure out how best to react to this new version of him.
I stare at the tub as Poe strips off his shirt, revealing a broad back marked with scars I’ve never seen before.
The slight twitch of muscle is the only evidence that this isn’t of a part of himself that he typically shows other people.
Just a hint of vulnerability that I would miss entirely if I wasn’t watching him so closely.
“You can turn around if you want,” he offers, his back still to me. “I don’t expect anything.”
“I’ve seen naked men before,” I reply, though I do turn away as he removes his pants. The splash of water signals he’s entered the tub.
When I look back, Poe sits with his head tilted back against the edge, eyes closed, steam rising around him. His injured shoulder bears a darkening bruise, and he holds it at an awkward cant as he settles back.
“Your shoulder looks dislocated.”
He doesn’t open his eyes. “It might be.”
“Don’t you need to set it before the swelling gets too bad?”
His lips briefly quirk in a smile, eyes still closed. “Probably.”
“Poe.”
That infuriating smile widens. “Maya.”
“You need to get your shoulder looked at.”
He tilts his head back far enough that end of his dark strands curl in the water, face a study in relaxation. “If I go see the medics, then I’ll be gone for at least a few hours. Ares will insist that you spend the night with him if I’m not here.”
“You’re really going to risk permanent injury just to avoid losing your night with me?”
He shrugs, freezing halfway through the movement with a wince of pain. “The palace doctor will still be there in the morning.”
“Oh, for the love of…” I begin hastily stripping out of my dress before I have the chance to think through the wisdom of the decision.
Poe’s eyes remain respectfully closed, though I don’t miss the way the skin around his eyes crinkles in amusement.
I turn my back anyway as the fabric falls to the floor at my feet.
It’s a particular feeling to know you’re being manipulated while having no idea how to stop yourself from falling for it.
I leave my underwear on, even though it’s the flimsiest barrier imaginable. An Alpha can break bones with their bare hands, so thin cotton doesn’t stand much of a chance. But I appreciate the feeling of not being entirely nude, even if it hardly matters at this point.
The water is almost too warm as I slip into the water and wade carefully toward the deceptively harmless Alpha. He reacts so subtly when I gently touch his injured shoulder that I almost miss the movement. He is clearly putting effort into not scaring me away.
I’m just like a fly buzzing around a Venus trap, too focused on the allure to appreciate the danger.
My fingers press against the hot muscle just above the curve of his pectoral muscle and Poe releases an unsteady breath.
Do you even know how to set a dislocated shoulder?” he asks with a pained grunt.
I follow his collarbone to where the shoulder has obviously been pulled from its socket. The Enclave taught basic first aid, but this injury probably requires more than a simple bandage. “Nope. I assumed you could talk me through it.”
His free hand shifts to my hips, maneuvering me until I’m straddling his lower stomach. “It’ll be easier from here.”
If I lean back even the slightest inch, I know I’ll feel the full length of him nestled in the curve of his ass.
When I shift up, my center grinds against the hard wall of his abdomen, sending a spike of pleasure up my spine.
I’m literally caught between a rock and a hard place, which is clearly no accident.
I keep my back iron rod straight as I continue to prod at his injured shoulder. “What next?”
Poe’s chuckle reverberates through his chest against my palms. He guides my hands into position with his free hand. “Just hold my arm up like this and then lift it up while pushing hard and fast toward my body.”
I hesitate. “What if I make it worse?”
“You won’t.” The eyes that meet mine are full of a trust I don’t deserve as he gives me a crooked smile. “It already feels better just from you touching it.”
“Idiot,” I murmur. “Okay, fine. Here we go.”
Taking a deep breath, I grip his arm firmly, feeling the solid muscle beneath my fingers. The warmth of the water makes everything slippery, but I maintain my hold.
“On three,” he instructs. “One... two...”
I whip his arm up before he reaches three, feeling a sickening pop as his shoulder slides back into place. Poe’s entire body tenses beneath me, his free hand gripping my hip so tightly that I’ll probably have a bruise tomorrow. A sharp exhale escapes him, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Sorry,” I whisper, not entirely sure why I’m apologizing.
His eyes open slowly, pain still evident in their depths. “No, it’s good. The surprise actually helped.”
We stay like that, my body hovering over his, neither of us moving. The steam rises around us, creating a hazy barrier between us and reality. In this moment, I could almost forget why I’m here—why I need to destroy these men who’ve claimed me against my will.
Almost.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it.
Poe’s expression shifts, something unreadable crossing his features. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You know why.”
“Then you tell me.”
I can’t hide the bite in my voice. “Because you’re getting tired of waiting your turn?”
His hand moves from my hip to my face, brushing a strand of wet hair behind my ear. The gentleness of the gesture catches me off guard.
“Is that really what you think?”
“It’s what I know,” I counter, refusing to be swayed by false kindness. “Your pack Alpha claimed me. If you want an Omega, then I’m your only option.”
Poe’s head swings up so he can stare at me, gripping my hip tighter when I instinctively lean away. “Is that actually what you believe?”
I shrug, feeling inexplicably guilty. “I don’t know what else there is.”
“You really think I don’t see you? How amazingly unique you are?
” Poe’s hand cups my face, his eyes more serious than I’ve ever seen them.
“You think you’re just a prize? Maya, you’re the first person who’s seen me—really seen me—in years.
” His thumb traces my cheekbone. “I like your quick mind and your bravery. I’ve never met anyone else like you, and I sincerely doubt that I ever will.
” I look away, because I refuse to let him see my reaction to his words.
He lets me, fingers so featherlight on the curve of my cheek that I barely feel them at all.
“I like that you’re still fighting when anyone else would have broken.
Your strength terrifies me sometimes. His forehead touches mine, our breath mingling in the steam.
“I like that when you call my name, it feels like coming home to something I never knew I was missing.”
The water laps around us, and I realize I’m trembling—not from fear, but from the weight of his words. This isn’t manipulation.
This is something far more dangerous.
He studies me for a long moment, water droplets clinging to his eyelashes. “I can’t speak for anyone else, but I’m not waiting for my turn, Maya. I’m just waiting. For as long as you need me to.”
The sincerity in his voice threatens to crack something inside me. This is dangerous—far more dangerous than Logan’s possessiveness or the reluctant pull of my bond with Cillian. This illusion of choice, of respect, could make me forget what they’ve all taken from me.
I push away from him, creating distance between our bodies. “What I want doesn’t matter here. It never has.”
“It matters to me,” he says quietly.
The words hang in the steam between us, an offering I don’t know how to accept or reject.
So, I do the only thing I can think of to make him stop talking.
I lean forward, closing the distance between us, and press my lips to his. It’s a desperate move, but one that works. Poe stills for a moment, surprise evident in the way his body tenses beneath mine. Then his arms wrap around me, pulling me closer as he deepens the kiss.
This is different from our first encounter in the basement. That was all adrenaline and violence, a primal reaction to death. This is something softer, a connection I can’t afford to feel.
His hands trail up my back, fingers tangling in my wet hair as he cradles my head. I push myself against him, using physical sensation to drown out the thoughts his words stirred in me. When he groans into my mouth, I feel a flutter of triumph.
“Maya,” he whispers against my lips. “I think I love?—”
I silence him with another kiss. Words are treacherous. They make promises neither of us can keep.