Chapter 27 #2
“You have unfortunately come here at a very bad time,” he states. His voice is admittedly gentle, like he’s trying to be sincere. He clears his throat. “I am pulled in a lot of directions. I’m sorry if I’m not around a lot.”
There’s a fragile sensation of guilt sprouting in my heart, as if I forget why I hated him in the first place. “What’s the end end goal with me, Judge? Like, where do I fit in this place a year from now? Two years from now?”
“You’ll wear a vest that says you’re my property.”
I start to shift like I’m about to get up. Judge merely laughs, keeping me in my place with his arms that tighten around me, and god, I hate the lovely sound that his laugh is. How I can feel it against my back, and how I just want to lean into him. “Knew you’d love that.”
“So you’re joking then?” I ask, thinking about Kitty.
“Oh, no. You’re definitely wearing it, one day. All the Iron spouses wear it.”
Spouse. Why does that sound more serious than a mate? I twist slightly so I can look up at him to look over his face to gauge how serious he is, and when he starts to look over mine, I know it’s dangerous the way we are too close. I turn back ahead, nearly panting. “Property is barbaric.”
“I call you my property because it means if someone even looks at you wrong, then they looked at me wrong. Any slight to you is a slight to me. It’s how respect works around here.”
I think about that bizarre notion. “Let’s just go with that’s true. That means you value the scent match over being someone you get along with.”
“Did you not ever wonder if yours was out there?”
“It didn’t matter because if I mated with an alpha, packs and gangs like yours would kill him to take me,” I say, trying to sound strong, but my voice wavers at the end. I hate talking about these things because I can’t deny that they haven’t kept me up at night more times than I can count.
“For the last damn time, Dominion doesn’t do that,” he says, and I can tell I’ve annoyed him. “At some point you’re just arguing with yourself.”
My jaw drops, and I try to hit what I can of him, a little growl escaping me.
He seems caught off guard, even just for a moment, and I find so much joy in that tiny victory before he pulls me tight against him, spinning me around, and pins me to the blanket on the floor while he laughs at me. “Your omega growl is adorable.”
“Shut up,” I say, annoyed.
That was a real growl to me.
“What were your plans for life if you weren’t going to find a mate?” he asks, totally in control as he’s now on top of me, blocking out what little light came through from below.
“I actually believed I could somehow make it to menopause. Otherwise, maybe the Witch Doctor could do whatever she does to make me not an omega.”
Judge’s hand is on my chin, all humor utterly fading from his face as he pins me there. Holy shit, when he wants to manhandle me, I literally cannot stop him. “You never mention the Witch Doctor again.”
“What?” I ask, my eyes vibrating to look at both of his.
“I said what I said,” he says and lets go of my chin, then gets off of me, motioning to get back in front of him.
And I do so without protest, because it just doesn’t seem to make things better for me anymore.
At some point, as we sit here, a true sense of calm washes over me.
I don’t have to watch my back because Judge is literally there, and he’s warm.
His small purr even surrounds me, and for a moment, I just give in.
I’m so fucking tired. It’s the first time I’ve ever looked ahead of myself and not worried about what’s behind me.
No one is coming for me here, and I don’t have to run.
As I watch them play, I start to get sleepy.
I don’t remember the last time I breathed this calmly, and I start yawning.
As my eyelids start to get heavy, my body leaning harder into him, Judge repositions us and scoops me up.
I stiffen, grabbing what I can—which is placing my arm around his neck for stability.
The action soothes my omega heart in a way that makes me feel ruined.
I don’t fight him, because what’s the point right now?
I’m.
Tired.
Mentally, physically, and emotionally. Why should I stop someone from carrying me to my bed? I know it’s technically a nest, but I’m also tired of sleeping on the floor. If I just think of it as a bed…
There’s something to his silence that makes me nervous because it feels intimate. When he lays me down, he looks me in the eyes with a smirk. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
Oh, trust me. All the retorts lodge fiercely in my throat, but I admit that I also freeze.
I don’t say anything, like some part of me wants to buy into this messed-up courtship.
I just blink a few times, eyeing his broad, scarred lips before looking away, rolling over into the blankets and feel a deep sense of loneliness that that stupid alpha isn’t in this bed with me.
In this nest. The one that reeks of us but doesn’t feel like mine.
And that fucker just leaves. Doesn’t force anything. Doesn’t growl. Doesn’t make me say anything to him.
He fucking tucked me into bed.
Am I losing? Is this what losing feels like?
God, I miss talking to someone.
I miss Selene.
Even that doesn’t work anymore. I know she’s free, or at least I have to believe him. Selene feels like someone from a lifetime that I always knew had an end.
I can’t feel for Judge, though. That means that I’ve gotten a bastardized taste of what it could have been like if life were fairer before I confront the Witch Doctor.
If I had found a mate worth loving.