Chapter 29
DIANA
Waking up is like coming off a drug, and for a moment, I don’t recognize anything. Am I at the Enclave? Home? It’s so quiet, though. My brother was always so loud…
And then it hits me.
My chest rises faster as I slowly look around the attic space. Now, it’s not foreign to feel Judge right behind me while in this bed, but it is foreign to see the faintest glow of the morning sun and to feel him still against me.
When did he get in here?
I lie there, unafraid of the world with his heat to my back, hearing him breathe in a slow rhythm.
There’s a moment where I let go of all my concerns and fears, because it feels good to.
My eyes even close as I enjoy the comfort of him.
Maybe it’s easier, too, since I don’t have to see his face.
Judge can exist behind me without the guilt of knowing who he is.
What this man is doing to me is so bad I can’t even think straight, and he hasn’t even bitten my neck. What do I even do right now? Do I just lie here until he wakes up? Do I wake him up? I have to pee, but I also don’t want to leave this warmth.
He’s not so unpleasant, I guess…
I try to move from his arm, but it’s honestly kind of heavy. And when I put a little extra effort in, he inhales a sharp breath as he adjusts, pulling that grip even tighter. The sensation makes me all fluttery inside, some part of my ego thrilled that such an imposing alpha pulls me closer.
And—oh, that’s definitely his dick through his pants, his firm warmth pressed right against my ass.
And what do I want? I want… crap. I want more of him. I don’t know what any of this means, but holding frustration for him is now like holding sand… “I have to pee,” I quietly say, not used to the mornings with another.
His grip loosens as he inhales deeply. “Go on, nurse,” he says almost playfully. “Then get back in bed.”
Oh, that’s not good, either. My body is flooded with only good things. He knows me, my history, and how to basically make my body sing for him. I hurry to the bathroom, shivering from the cold and making it quick.
As I sit there by myself on the cold toilet seat, I process the way I smell of him, and not because we fucked. But because I had sat with him, leaning against his body for warmth, and then he must have returned while I was sleeping and joined me in my bed…
What if he bites me and I can’t fight him anymore? What if this is like home, where I trusted my own parents and turns out they were setting me up for a lifetime of a hand already promised in a mating I never even got asked if I wanted…
My heart races, and I wipe.
I also can’t let this morning go to waste.
He came back to sleep, which means something is developing between us.
It’s what I need so I can gain freedom, so I can eventually leave this place.
Hell, just even go outside for a bit. I doubt Titan is hiding in the bushes.
So then what? I give in? I can’t just let myself change, can I?
I can’t forget all those omegas that came to the Enclave, terrified of their alphas and desperate to escape.
None of them were Dominion escapees… None, except Rebecca.
When I go back out to the room with my nest—bed—and see that massive, tattooed hulk of a man, there’s a momentary plea in my heart not to run.
Running is exhausting.
So is being alone.
So is being cold.
Rather than return to the bed just yet, Judge’s sleepy eyes on me, I add more wood to the hearth and try to light a new one. I strike at the stone.
“I’ll be leaving for a few days. You’ll be here while I’m gone.”
I strike again, the sharp rock slicing at my skin when those words make me feel suddenly abandoned. I drop the stones and wince, gripping my thumb right away and pressing on the wound, moving over to my pitcher of water to clean it out really fast.
Judge is already up on his feet like he’s trained for this. “What happened?”
“I just—struck too hard,” I say, dabbing at the bleeding to clean it before pressing a cloth onto it. “I’m fine. Just need to add pressure until it clots. If it doesn’t, I’ll sew it. Not the first time I’ve done this.”
I slide into the seat of my small dining table, where the natural light is the strongest. Judge approaches, bending over to take my hands that are pressed together within one of his. “Open it.”
“I’m literally a nurse and can take care of it.”
“Open it. Let me see.”
I do so without much more fighting, dark blood quickly reappearing before I close it back. “I’ll get some things for it. That doesn’t look shallow,” he says, his voice lower in the morning, heading down the stairs quickly while sniffing, like he’s still waking up.
What does he mean he’s leaving me? I can’t go days in this space all alone. A needy part of me almost wants to beg for him to just be honest with me, to not lead me on. I’m so afraid to let warm things settle in my heart because I know I know better.
I don’t like the idea of him out there with no obligation to me. He literally owes me nothing—I’m the one locked up in here! What if I’m in here so he can control the world around me, and I’m none the wiser?
But when he returns with a small bag, I try to get myself together.
I can’t ruin the opportunity to be alone with my thoughts.
I need it. I need to be reminded that Judge isn’t the only thing that exists in this world, and that being constantly flooded with his scent makes it impossible to think clearly.
He places the bag on a table before getting one of the blankets, draping it over my shoulders, before he sits across from me.
He motions for me to give him my hand.
I watch in silence as he grabs a few things from the bag, including what smells like a small bottle of liquor. He pulls out a syringe needle and vial, filling it to about half a milliliter before I ask, “What is that?”
“Numbing agent. You need that stitched.”
“I can—”
“So can I.” He swats at my hand that’s covering the wound. “Unless you really want me to sit here and watch you fumble around with one hand trying to stitch the other?”
I stare into his eyes, the ones with a color that reminds me of the massive history of his life that I barely know the surface of. That maybe, just maybe, he really is a man who finds value in omegas.
In scent matches.
Because everyone has to hope for something, don’t they?
“Okay,” I say, removing my hand as blood begins to spill again.
I watch as Judge numbs the area before flushing it with water, and then applying alcohol onto the wound.
It’s always recommended to use it, since it kills healthy tissue, but I also don’t want to risk infection at all.
Some of the sting prevails, but it’s otherwise pretty mild with whatever he gave me.
He grabs a sewing needle and begins to add a few stitches to my hand, amazed he can even properly use one with the size of his hands. They’re so calloused and scarred, making for such a unique image as he delicately handles my wound.
“What is going to happen to me up here while you’re gone?” I ask, looking over his face, which has the thinnest scruff on it.
“Kitty will be here,” he quietly replies, the slight imperfection of his lower teeth visible when this close. “Because I still don’t trust Ravina.”
“Why not?” I ask.
He is so gentle with threading my flesh. “I can’t tell you all the details, but she thinks her position of arranging matches supersedes my authority. And seeing as you’re not a normal scrap, I can only imagine she thinks it’s best to socialize you before the other alphas get wary.”
“Well, it might be worth it? I could really use the other omegas.”
With a blink, his gaze rises to meet mine. “I will kill anyone who comes near you who has any intention to try to touch you. It’s not a good idea. I can’t have that stress while I’m gone.”
It’s not even said with the same possessive tone as before. It’s a literal warning, like it’ll be my fault if someone dies if I let such a thing happen. If it were the first night he took me? I’d roll my eyes or think he’s nuts.
But my body is filled with that sedated effect that his smell has on me.
There’s no point in trying to deny he’s my scent match anymore.
Which if true, then what if he continues to keep me here for two more months, not just two weeks?
Will I even have the ability to run away from him, or will that hurt too much by then?
I also feel like I’ve experienced far too much in this life to just believe the words he tells me.
I don’t reply to him.
Judge continues to gently pull my bleeding flesh back together.
“I’m going to meet a white flag rider from the Bayou’s Maw, which is Titan’s gang.
” He ties the end of the string, and I’m barely breathing, staring at his face as I’m desperate for anything he’s about to say.
He keeps his eyes on my hand, cleaning it and applying a balm as he continues, “I don’t like that Titan is making these moves.
It’s too coincidental with your appearance.
It’s why it’s important, Diana, that you don’t leave this space while I’m gone, on the off chance someone forgets to lock a door. ”
Judge pulls his hands back to grab some bandaging, and I don’t think I even move to breathe as I stare at him with wide eyes, waiting for more.
His pale eyes flit to me, as if to confirm I’m listening, before he resumes his work.
“I might carry a heavy reputation, but I’m not a god.
You are safest in my territory, and even more so, a ghost, for now.
It’s not uncommon for omegas to appear and then disappear within our walls to go be with alphas.
As I said before, it’s what people believe has happened to you.
If they learn you’re up here, they’ll all know I’ve taken you for myself. ”
Well, shit. That actually makes a lot of sense. “How could Titan learn?”
“Dominion is too large to believe that rumors don’t spread that shouldn’t,” he carefully replies. “He would know by the end of the week if word ever got out.”
Judge puts a pin in my bandages to keep them together. “That is why,” he continues, finally looking me in the eyes as he speaks, “No one knows you’re my scent match except for less than a handful here.”
My eyes flit back and forth between his before my gaze slowly falls down his body, then down to my hand that he just patched up. Well, this isn’t a great position to be in. “So I just have to wait until he croaks?”
His lips form into the smallest smile. “If I’m worth any of my reputation, he’ll croak sooner rather than later.” His eyes deadpan, a flash of the same Judge that overtook New Bunker returning. “Don’t ever ask me about that, though. And don’t ever share that with anyone.”
I nod. Out of the two massive gang leaders, I already trust Judge more. I’m not taking my chances with the other one. “I’m really tired of being hunted out by alphas, so my lips are sealed.” I rub my eye with my non-wounded hand. “Thank you for telling me.”
“I want you to be armed with that information while I’m gone. Kitty is here, along with Beast. You’ve seen him once. The alpha with the mask. He’s the alpha that would replace me if I died, and I’m leaving him behind to look over this place—and you—from a distance.”
My body does a little shiver at the mention of Judge dying. “What about Skinner? Isn’t he your right hand?”
“My role is usually filled by an alpha, and Skinner is a beta.”
I stare at my hand, feeling an odd rise of emotion.
When Judge starts to pull back like he’s about to get up, there’s a slight movement of his body forward as if he would reach out to me.
To do what, I’ll never know, because he commits to standing and gathers his first aid supplies.
“I don’t mean to leave on a grim note, but I got word late last night that we’d leave today. ”
“And if—if something happens, is Titan going to come for me one day?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I have everything under control, and you don’t need to worry? I just need your vigilance, not for you to take action.”
God, I want to believe him. I want to give my worries to a very capable alpha and say, ‘Have it all, bud.’ But I’m also… worried? “What if the rider is a trap?” I ask.
Judge flashes a dark grin at me. “Are you worried for your alpha, Diana?”
I run a hand through my hair, holding my injured one against my stomach. “I feel a lot of things right now, most of them confusing.”
I didn’t deny him being my alpha, but that’s also because he gave me a lot of information just now. So I’ll reward that, just like he ‘rewards’ me. And also… it didn’t feel nearly as wrong as it usually does.
When Judge’s massive back is to me, I look him over from behind, from the large traps down to the way he sways like he’s spring-loaded with muscle. If only I could wave a magic wand to help delineate all truths from lies. I’d wave that bitch so hard.
Maybe the Witch Doctor is the closest I’d get to such a magical feat. And if Judge is lying, or using me, maybe the Witch Doctor can remove emotions and memories, too…
Thoughts like that are so far away now.
I actually don’t think I want to leave anymore.
Who, then, does that make me now?