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Grant blows out a breath and nudges me from across the table, clearly amused by her rejection. “Wow,” he says. “You’re letting your prisoner walk around like she owns the place, and she’s still giving you the cold shoulder?”
“I didn’t feel like there was any point in keeping her locked up,” I say. “She’s going to get to work on preparing the garden plot tomorrow. She’ll see it all anyway.”
“No…there’s more going on here,” Will says, narrowing his eyes. “Something you’re not telling us.”
Grant inhales in her direction, then again—and then he gapes at me. “Garza, you didn’t.”
“He didn’t what?” Will says, then he seems to register her scent at the same time. “Did you—did you fuck her?”
“No, God no,” I say. I catch myself after I’ve already let it slip, and cross myself in a silent apology for taking His name in vain. “I’m celibate. That hasn’t changed.”
“But she smells like you fucked her,” Grant says.
“Lower your voice,” I hiss. “And stop…stop saying that. I’ll explain, but it isn’t widely known just yet.”
“So you’re keeping secrets from the pack now?” Will says.
I pull so hard on my beard that I’m afraid I’ll tear it right off. “Can’t catch a fucking break around here,” I mutter. “No—she was dying, so I bit her.”
Grant leans forward. “You say that like it’s so simple,” he says. “Like it’s a logical hop from point A to point B. But it’s really not.”
“You know she’s yours now, then,” Will says. “There’s no getting around it. Even if you try to break apart, you’ve just…shit, Reyes, you’ve permanently brought a crusader into the den. And I presume you made this decision over the course of, what, five minutes?”
“She was bleeding out,” I say.
“And she wasbringing a gun into the den,” Will shoots back. “I’ve never known you to be impulsive. Even when we were in the rebellion—especiallythen—you were always careful. Calculated.”
“There was no time for calculations,” I say. “And trust me, I’ve been kicking myself for this ever since. Because now I have to deal not only with what to do with her now, but what to do with her later, when she asks to be brought home…and I told her we would help her procure medicine for her sister.”
Grant raises his eyebrows while Will’s frown deepens. “Medicine?” Grant asks.
“Insulin.” I take a sip of water from in front of me, focusing on how it cools my throat rather than on my building rage. They shouldn’t be questioning me like this; I’m their Prime.
Down, boy, I think, internally chastising my wolf.
“Her sister is diabetic,” I continue. “I guess the Heavenly Host has started withholding meds as we’ve widened our control over central Texas, and she’s offered to help us with our farm in exchange for the insulin.”
“Even though you literally saved her life,” Grant says. “This girl is…yikes. And for an omega…”
“We don’t really know all that much about them,” I say. “The only omegas we’ve got here are Charlotte and Peaches, and it isn’t like the two of them are complete pushovers.”
Grant shrugs. “I mean, Peaches…?”
“She’s been through a lot—you can’t fault her for being quiet sometimes,” I say in her defense. “And Charlotte is tough as nails, and doesn’t take any orders from Elijah. I’ve come across so few omegas in my time that I really have no idea what makes them tick, or if there are any similarities between them all. The Heavenly Host kept such a tight hold over us that it’s hard to know what’s natural and what’s…”
“She’s coming over,” Will says, his eyes flickering over my shoulder. Her scent hits me a moment later, and I turn slowly to face her.
“Tilda,” I say.
“Garza,” she says.
“Need something?”
She lifts her chin up, ever imperious. “I just wanted to tell you that you don’t have to have me tailed everywhere,” she says. “I think the blonde is making Peaches uncomfortable.”
Tilda jerks her head over her shoulder, and I glance toward the back of the room to see Arden scowling from the wall with her arms crossed over her chest.
“I didn’t tell Arden to do anything,” I say. “You might want to try talking to her. You might have something in common. You’re both…”
