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“I’m in this, you know,” I told him.
Surprise flickered across his face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’m with you. I’m… I know I’m not entirely Wolf. I’m… God, I don’t even know. An abomination to both sides, probably.”
I meant it as a joke, but he growled and curled his fingers in my shirt, yanking me toward him. “Do not call yourself that.”
“I just mean I don’t exactly feel like I belong anywhere but with you,” I told him. I laid my hand over his and stroked until his fingers eased, and then I took another step back. “You’re my other half, Kor. Which means your fight in this coming war—it’s my fight. I’m in this, okay?”
He swallowed thickly, bowing his head, then he nodded. His fingers flexed like he wanted to reach for me again, but he held himself back. It felt like a test for himself, to see if he was capable of putting his overwhelming need to be near me—to be touching me—to the side. And he succeeded.
I knew it wouldn’t last. Later, behind closed doors, he would hold me. He would pin me down and fuck me until the only thing I knew was his name. We’d curl up in each other’s arms and sleep until morning—and then we would part ways. He would give himself to the Council, to the rebuilding of the city, to the work it would take to free the people trapped in the labs.
And I would find my place—somewhere. Because this was home now. For better or for worse. I was no longer human, and though I was not a Wolf either, I was his Omega.
Epilogue
KOR
My cane slid along the concrete floors, tapping from one side of the wall to the other in the narrow hallway. We had the option of moving Sanderson to the city, but I knew it was time to end it. He was not speaking, and it was clear now he never would.
Orion wanted to kill him, but Misha had been the one to come up with a better plan: let him think he escaped. Plant a tracker in his body, then allow him to feed information back to the city. I had kissed him for that. Then I more than kissed him for that after Orion left.
My Omega tested my resolve to dedicate myself to the resistance. I wanted to whisk him away and live out our days in quiet solitude with my cock buried in his ass, or his own buried down the back of my throat. I wanted to lay him out and pay worship to his skin and forget the rest of this existed.
But I couldn’t—and Misha wouldn’t have let me even if I begged.
Sanderson believed he’d been drugged for transport when in reality we had only moved him to a warehouse just outside the compound—but he didn’t need to know. While he was unconscious, Danyal had imbedded a tracker deep under his skin, no bigger than a grain of rice. There were ways to detect it, but he would at least give us information before that happened.
We’d know where he went, and we’d have some idea of who he was with. If he went to the capital, we’d know then how we needed to strike. But like Misha, I had a feeling he would be taken to a lab, and that was what I was holding out for.
Tonight was the night he would escape. I would over-inflate my confidence. He would take me down, and he would run. He would use my blindness against me as a weakness. He would spread rumors about it to those that mattered. He would play right into our hands.
With a breath, I reached for the door, finding the handle on the second pass. At the very least, I didn’t need to feign my unease in unfamiliar situations. I was confident in my quarters now in the city and in the Council chambers. I was learning my way around other places, and I was reading maps and understanding the very beginnings of braille. But I was off-kilter now as I faced him in the room.
I let him see my cane—let him see a symbol he thought meant weakness. “Sanderson.” I knew he was gagged, but I pretended like I wasn’t sure. “Am I still getting the silent treatment after all these months?”
He let out a muffled noise, and my brows rose. I set my cane against the wall, then felt my way over to him. The knot at the back of his head was loose enough it came free with a couple of tugs, and I heard him cough as I stepped back.
“Enough is enough,” I told him.
He let out a dry, hoarse chuckle. “Is it?”
“Major Peterson has finally convinced me you’re not going to talk. And we obviously can’t let you walk away from here, so I’m going to allow you a fair execution.” I folded my arms over my chest and shuffled back until my shoulders hit the wall.
After a beat, he scoffed. “A challenge?”
“You’ll be killed either way, but you have the opportunity to take me out first. The guards will return in twenty minutes to take one or both bodies out of here.” It was an old custom—an archaic one that no Wolf had used in centuries. But he was aware of it. It was a way of dying with dignity back when our freedom was used in sport.
“Why?” he finally asked. “Why not just cut my throat?”
“Because unlike you, I’m a Wolf of honor.” I took a step away from the wall and held my hand out. I didn’t need it, but I wanted him to think I did.
“Culling a blind Wolf is hardly fair,” he said with a sneer, and I allowed myself a flinch. “You’d be better off sending in your bitch human.”
I did not have to fake the warning growl that rumbled from my chest. “The one you tried to kill?”
“The one who compromised you,” he spat. I heard him shift in the chair, trying to break his bonds. He’d be able to soon. They were loosened and weak. He’d take the opportunity to run instead of killing me, knowing he could take one Wolf, but a dozen guards would be beyond him.
