Chapter 30 #2
There were ones I was going to have to do myself. I needed to do myself. Though glancing over at Caden, still sitting in the same position, staring at Birdie numbly, I wondered who deserved to end Istvan more.
The son he abused, experimented on, turned his back on, and left to die in the Games with his mother. Or the orphan girl he took in because he was the one to murder her father, the girl he experimented on and tortured. The one he tried to marry off to a sadistic abuser to gain more control.
He sold both Caden and me to obtain more power, and it still wasn’t enough.
It never was for Istvan.
Caden and I knew Birdie was intentional.
Istvan shot her on purpose. As Istvan did to Andris, killing Ling, he wanted to take away the one thing his son might care about.
Istvan was always watching, observing, noticing more than others.
When Caden called for Birdie in the Games, seeing the fear in his son’s face, he knew the fae girl was not an enemy.
There were feelings there. Markos wanted to avenge what he felt was the deepest betrayal.
Caden falling for Birdie, a fae, was the ultimate disloyalty.
Hurting her was more impactful to his son than shooting him. Thank the gods that Birdie was straight out badass and wouldn’t let Istvan win. He couldn’t take her down so easily.
The train rocked back and forth, my muscles relaxing into Warwick, the night’s events slamming down on me. His arms tightened around me as I curled into him, laying my head on his chest.
I was proud that we did what we set out to do, at least clipping Istvan’s wings, though my gut coiled with the truth that the real fight still lay ahead of us. I was terrified as I looked around the train. Some of these people—my family—might not survive.
Tucked up against some crates were Rosie and Killian.
She had her head in Killian’s lap, his finger threading through her hair, watching her with an expression I had never seen on his face.
Ever. Utter adoration. Killian couldn’t hide it if he tried.
The man was completely in love with her, making a smile grow on my face, watching them together.
The high noble leader was stripped down; the facade he kept up, the role he played, even with me, had crumbled with Rosie.
Some might think they had little in common, but they had lived very similar lives, both acting their parts for survival, for power, for money. Their pasts weaved together into understanding and respect. And for once, they could both find who they really were together.
On the wall to my right, Ash, Lukas, and Kek muttered and whispered together, smiling and joking; their interactions were such a unit. Ash was the anchor, but the three of them worked together in a way no one could explain.
Eli and Ember were at the far wall leaning against the crates blocking the connecting door, and though they were practically strangers to me, I couldn’t deny that I felt like I had known them forever, especially Ember. Maybe it was the magic we shared, a strange family bond.
Though another bond took my focus, my heart aching as I watched Scorpion bind Hanna to a metal bar, her hands behind her back, her unconscious body slumping against it.
I could sense his pain. The agony of knowing this had to be done for her own good still didn’t take away the disgust he felt at himself for doing it.
“Scorpion.” I reached out to him. His head turned just slightly toward my shade.
His mouth didn’t open, but his head dipped in a nod, understanding what I was saying without uttering a single word more.
I’m here if you need me. He instantly drew back up the wall between us, not wanting me to be part of his struggle.
I understood. Sometimes you just needed to be by yourself and deal with the trauma the only way you could. Being linked to Warwick and me was not easy on him. Even more so when Hanna might be too far gone to save.
Closing my eyes at that thought, I burrowed into Warwick, his heartbeat thumping against my ear like music.
The sound of life. His existence was a song I conjured up before I was born and sang the moment I entered this world, beckoning him to be in it because not for one second of my life could I not have him in this world somewhere.
A deep vibration came from his stomach, humming up to his throat, feeling me reach for him.
My soul sank into his, twining and gliding through, wrapping myself around like a blanket.
Warwick and I were always going to want to fuck each other’s brains out, that was who we were, but right then, it was about comfort.
About feeling safe and loved for one moment in this fucking hellish world.
“Merry Christmas, princess,” he growled in my ear, wrapping his arms tighter around me, using his shadow to blanket me even more in his smell, his heat, his body . . . his love.
I could feel it in every pore of my being, making me cling to him more, tears stinging my eyes, wanting to stay here forever.
“Warwick . . .” My voice barely made it out, tucking closer to him, not able to get close enough. The panic, terror, and possessiveness I felt thinking about anyone hurting him, taking him away from me. Nothing would be safe from my wrath, including my sanity.
“Shhh . . .” His breath filled my ear, his nose nuzzling in. “Sleep, Sotét démonom.”
The carriage rocked and jolted as it changed tracks. My lids bursting open, instinct jerking my limbs to move, my hand hitting something and knocking it onto the floor.
“Ahhhh!” Opie’s voice cried as his butt hit the ground.
“Oh shit, Opie!” I lifted my head off Warwick’s thigh, where I had fallen into a deep sleep. “Sorry!”
“Geez, Fishy, shouldn’t we have a safe word before starting the rough stuff?” He rubbed his butt, standing up.
Chirp! Bitzy flipped me off from the bag on his back, glaring at me, though nothing could stop me from chuckling.
“What are you wearing?”
“Don’t judge!” Opie put up his palms. “I mean, we have very little to work with here, and wow . . . the quality is less than par, but you know I can make miracles out of nothing.” He swished the shredded packing paper from the crates around him like a hula skirt.
Bullets were strung together in a high crown on his head; his chest and face were marked with gunpowder like a warrior.
His beard was braided, and his hair was tied in a bun with dark green fabric with smudges of red.
Bitzy had a single bullet tied to the top of her head, her face painted with gunpowder, and she was wearing dark green-red shorts.
“At least the fabric came pre-tie-dyed.”
My gaze drifted to where I had seen that dark green material before. Caden’s shirt, the one Ash used to stop Birdie’s bleeding, was in pieces.
My cheek flinched; did they want to know the dye was Birdie’s blood?
Warwick huffed behind me, a smirk dancing on his lips, his head shaking. “If we run out of bullets, I’m sticking your head into my gun.”
“Ohhhh. Yes, please . . .” Opie’s blushed, nodding.
Chirp!
Opie blinked, going serious. “No, I meant no . . .” Opie wagged his head, his eyes open wide. “I don’t want that. That sounds aaawwwful.” A small purr came from his throat. “And really violent.”
Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!
“I did not!” Opie put his hands on his hips. “That was not what I meant.”
Chirpchirpchirppp!
“Take that back. It was a total misunderstanding!”
Chirp! Chirp!
“Oh, don’t give me that . . . like you weren’t sticking your fingers in there earlier.”
A groan pushed out of Warwick, and I twisted to him as Opie and Bitzy argued.
Warwick leveled his eyes at me.
“You kind of walked into that one.” I grinned with a shrug.
“I did.”
“How long have I been asleep?” I brushed back my hair, my stomach gurgling with hunger.
“Probably about nine hours.”
“What?” I hadn’t slept that long in years. “Did you sleep?”
“Some.” He shrugged a shoulder, rolling it back as if it ached. I realized it probably did . . . this whole time I slept, he hadn’t moved a muscle, no matter if he was aching or uncomfortable.
“You needed it.” Warwick’s stare was heavy, his voice gravelly.
“Your fingers were there too.” Opie’s voice cut through our moment, making me rub my head again. “Don’t play innocent with me. You’re just cranky because the tree humper is out of mushrooms.”
Chirp!
Warwick took a breath, tipping his head back on the wall, his eyes never wavering.
“I don’t even want to think about where their fingers have been,” he growled, grabbing my legs and straddling them over his lap, pulling me into him.
“I just want to think about where my fingers are now.” The feel of his imaginary hands gliding through my folds hitched my breath, sending heat sparking through my nerves.
His huge hands stayed on my thighs while I felt his thumb rub over my core, his fingers sliding slowly in.
“Fuck.” I sighed, my body instantly on fire. My nails dug into his arms as I tried to pretend nothing was happening. He pushed in deeper, pumping harder with a smirk on his face.
“Warwick . . .” I gritted my teeth, a warning to stop lingering loosely in there.
“What?” He nibbled my ear. “I want to make you come right here. It’s up to you how much they know, princess. How quiet can you be?”
I peered around, biting my lip. Most everyone was asleep. Scorpion was now on watch, but he sat outside on the steps.
“Fuck, I knew my girl was dirty.” He growled in my ear, his ghost fingers pushing in farther, moving faster, forcing me past the point of being rational.
My lids shut, knowing I should stop it. We were all on top of each other in the carriage, but pleasure hijacked me, my teeth clenching together to keep from moaning aloud.