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I trust him with my life and the life of my people. It’s only fair to expect the same in return. Unless I’m no more to him than a fun pastime, as all the men in the rings were to me.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he says again, still avoiding my question.
Unfortunately, his non-answer is the devastating answer I was expecting.
I look at Chaz longingly as he studies my eyes with a fierce intensity. Whatever the reason Alyssa isn’t here is apparently none of my business, yet he can’t understand that layers the air with a blanket of distrust. It labels this as frivolous and meaningless.
I keep forgetting he’s not truly mine. I’m not sure what the protocol is for relationships outside the walls of the rings. Since being freed, he’s the only man I’ve touched. My learning curve with relationships was skewed from the beginning.
He’s more practiced and experienced. According to Slade, he was once involved with Amy and never shed a tear or missed a beat after learning of her death.
And I’m falling harder for him than he is for me.
Much harder.
It’s easy to forget my place until I’m reminded of it.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him.
His brow furrows, but I slam my knee into his side too fast for him to react. He grunts and stumbles away, and I dematerialize while I have the small advantage. My knee throbs and my chest aches. It feels like I just made a decision that I wasn’t ready to make so soon.
I half hope for him to show up before I reach the bunker, since he can transport much faster than I can shift through the planes. But I’m not surprised he hasn’t followed.
It’s the first time I’ve truly denied him of any request.
He won’t chase me.
The fun is only fun until it’s not.
It was never just fun to me. It was dangerous, exciting, terrifying, then... consuming. I’m not sure what to do from here, but... Fuck. Freedom is just as liberating as it is frustrating. With freedom comes choices and no one to blame but yourself when your world is spinning out of control.
There’s no evil to blame when you’ve caused your own problems. There’s only your reflection to confront. And it’s not a conversation I have time for right now.
Slade doesn’t even act surprised to see me when I step inside. He knew I’d follow. Just as Chaz knew I would.
I’m not a woman. I’m a soldier.
I’m not one of theirs. I’m one of the surviving slaves.
And I’m not one to be told to stand still when I know I have to keep moving.
“What’s going on with you?” I ask in a strained tone, choking back the unexpected surge of emotions. Clearing my throat, I ask a little stronger, “Why did you provoke him?”
Slade tosses me a necklace, and I put it on without hesitation.
“I didn’t intend to provoke him. He provoked me. And the princess has to feel like she’s in control on occasion when she spends too much time out of control.”
“You deliberately talked down to her and laced your condescension with a veiled threat.”
“There was nothing veiled about it. She and I will fight eventually, but not today.”
“You really believe that?” I ask, studying him. “What does she do when she’s out of control? Because it didn’t sound like she wanted to fight.”
He looks me in the eyes, his gaze burning through mine. “We fight. We fuck. We survive. Those are the only three things that are truly in existence, Kya. I’m not fucking the princess. You think they’re going to rub elbows with us once this is all over? They’re going to come for a fight.”
This is not why I’m here. Arguing with Slade is always counterproductive after the first five minutes.
“Ella is their target. They need her to stabilize the portal in order to open up the right dimension. She’d be like the ground wire to their electrical current, from what I understand. We need to help ensure her safety—around the clock security or whatever. You have to stop provoking them and start working with them, because we now have a common goal—stopping this portal.”
