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“Because now everyone knows,” I say hoarsely, my face hovering inches from hers and my thumb running a back-and-forth motion on her neck. “The secret’s out, but I couldn’t listen to that smug asshole for another second.”
“What do you mean?”
“Now they know that I can’t do it. I can’t save Goldenrod.” I release a sardonic laugh, and her fingers press into the movement, burning my flesh. “I don’t know how to communicate with … them. I don’t know if the delivery’s coming, and if it’s not, then … we’re fucked.”
Unlike the gasps and denial from the dining room, Hetty doesn’t react badly to the news. In fact, she barely reacts at all. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” she says with a shrug.
“Of course, it is.”
“What if—” she whispers gravely, staring at me searchingly. “What if things are different outside Goldenrod?”
“Things are different, but not in a good way.” I scoff. “You’ve seen Rill. His alphas.”
Her expression wavers briefly before determination sparkles in her eyes. “But we could be free.”
“And we could die,” I counter.
She shrugs, weaving mysterious dreams behind her sparkling eyes. “Maybe it would be worth it.”
I remember the fury I felt at Rill’s words in the dining room.
All these betas are as good as dead.
The same anger swells in my chest as my fingers wrap around her narrow neck, holding her tight as I move closer to her.
“What’s wrong with you, Hetty?”
“Nothing.” We’re so close now that even in the dim light, I can see her face pale. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Do you want to die?” I growl, ignoring her insolence. “Is that it?”
“Of course not! I’m just not…” She tenses and then releases a deep breath. “I’m not scared.”
I stare down at her familiar face—always so comforting, soothing. She’s not comforting me now, though. No, she’s making me decidedly uncomfortable.
When did this happen? When did she start questioning me? When did I start putting my hands on her? I vaguely remember vowing never to do that again. But now, we’re pressed against each other, arguing under the eerie amber moonlight?
It doesn’t seem like it’s really happening, and maybe that’s why the next words stream out of my mouth without a thought edgewise.
“Since that day in the basement, I’ve thought about you…” I trail off, locking eyes with her. “A lot.”
She inhales sharply, but the noise from the bugs and the wind sings around us for several seconds before she speaks.
“I’ve thought about you, too,” she finally admits in a whisper, her bluster fading now, replaced by something else. Something quieter.
“I think it would be a bad idea, though,” I say, despite the fact that I’m all but pushing her against a tree. “For anything to ever happen between us.”
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. She sneers—actually sneers—I’ve never seen a beta sneer. I’ve never seen Hetty sneer.
“You know what your problem is, Noah?” she says thickly. “You think too much.”
I can’t help but bark out a laugh. Her simmering eyes burst into flames at the sound. “Yeah, I know. If I didn’t, I’d be a lot happier.”
“So, don’t,” her sharp voice cuts through my brief flare of humor. “Don’t think so much.”
My blood bursts into flames as I pull her hips against mine, swirling them softly. “Do you know what I’m thinking now?”
What are you doing? The voice in my head is pleading. I ignore it.
