Nausea roils my stomach, because he’s not looking at me like he wants to eat me up.
He looks… disgusted.
"They did not know?" he repeats. "You deceived your own people? Your friends?"
I don't offer him a defense.
I don't tell him how miserable they were, or how badly I wanted to save them from their dead-end jobs, or how much I am currently bleeding inside from the guilt.
The why doesn’t matter, not anymore. I’m not sure my reasons were good enough, even if this hadn’t turned into a shit show.
"Yes," I say simply. "I did."
Vael-Torin’s tail lashes violently behind him, a sharpthwackechoing against a nearby tree trunk. He shakes his head, disapproval tightening his handsome features.
"I do not like that," he says slowly. "That is dishonorable. Loyalty is the only armor that never breaks. This is not good, Poppy." His gaze trails over me, but there’s no desire in it.
There’s nothing in it at all.
“I do not know if I can trust you.”
The rejection stings, but I refuse to let him see me flinch.
Court room training was good for one thing, at least.
I need him to see me as a partner, not a traitor. I step right into his personal space and lift my chin.
"Then it's a good thing we're not in an army, Vael-Torin," I tell him, my voice sharp. "I made a choice, and I am going to handle the fallout with my friends. But right now, we have to be a team. I am smart, I am capable, and you are stuck with me. I don’t know about you, but I want to survive, I want to get out of here, and I want to make sure my friends do too." I jab a finger at his chest. “I can be your partner…” I search for a word that might make more sense. “A co-captain, or whatever, but you don’t have to trust me to work with me. But trust this, when I set my mind to something, I do it. I get shit done. So let’s get shit done as a team and save the fuck out of everyone.” I stop talking before a sob wracks me, and I swallow it down, refusing to cry.
Now is not the time.
Vael-Torin blinks, his red eyebrows knitting together in surprise at the aggressive shift in my attitude.
"The voice said there are supplies and weapons deposited near our sleeping site," I continue, turning on my heel and marching right past him down the path, my new boots hitting the dirt hard. Stomping, some might say. "If we want to survive whatever the fuck it woke up, we need to locate that shit immediately. Help me look."
I hear the heavy thud of his boots picking up his pace, and I allow myself a tiny smile.
So there.
For the next hour, we trek through the increasingly hostile wilderness.
I keep my mouth shut and my eyes locked on the surroundings, scanning the terrain like I’ve done this before.
Yeah. I’ve never been the outdoorsy type, and a little pang of sorrow goes through me, because goddamnit, neither are my friends, and it’s my fucking fault were in this fucking mess.
Fuck.
I can adapt. I am adapting.
I use the pointy end of broken branch to stab at a cluster of vines that look like they might be twitching toward my ankles.
The only survival shit I’ve done is braving a sample sale in NYC, but if I can survive that, I can survive anything.
When I take my first breather, leaning up against a tree and sipping from the water from the dome Vael’s carrying for us, there’s a reluctant respect on his face.
I start up again, because waiting around never solved anything. Certainly didn’t get me the last pair of Louboutin’s in my size. I sigh. RIP red bottoms, I wore ye well.
"You must keep your energy up," he observes quietly, his wing brushing against my shoulder as the path between trees narrows. "If you must rest, we will rest."
