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I let the water cover me completely as Javi stalks away, checking every corner of the room. He peeks into the lamps, the drawers, the little trinkets my father has always kept around the citadel. I keep my eyes on him as I reach for the soap, knowing it won’t wash away the way I feel and wishing it would.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice quiet.
“Looking for bugs,” he says. “I don’t know if they’re listening…watching.”
“They’re not that smart around here,” I say. “And they don’t have the tech—not since the Heavenly Host dipped out on the Gulf Pack.”
“You don’t know that,” he snaps.
“Yes I do,” I say. “I planned an escape from this place once before, remember?”
He pauses to glare at me. “Trust me,” he says.
I shrug. “Okay.”
As if I have any reason to trust him.
I busy myself scrubbing my skin raw, careful not to touch the bite mark. It throbs every time I get near it, like it’s angry that the bite wasn’t immediately followed by consummation. That’s the way it’ssupposedto be—but nothing about this is normal, according to the norms of anywhere I’ve ever lived. I’m sure the alphas out there think Javi is having the time of his life in here, but it seems like he wants to run screaming away from the Rig just as much as I do.
The water gets cold while he searches the room. There’s no towel in sight, and the wound on my neck is still raw—too raw.
A tremble shakes my body, forcing me to stand up and look for a towel. The closest one is by the door, and I clear my throat to get Javi to bring it to me so I don’t track water all over the floor.
Such a silly thing to think about.
Tracking water on the floor when my life is at risk.
He turns around and, for a split second, his face changes. He drinks me in with those green eyes, his gaze sliding over my body like the touch of a lover.
It feels…
I don’t know.
I blush bright pink, covering myself as best I can.
“The towel?” I ask, gesturing at it with a nod of my head.
It’s like he catches himself in the moment—and remembers he hates me. He schools his expression and looks past me again, then picks up the towel and tosses it my way.
“Thank you,” I squeak.
I wrap myself up in it, trying to hide my body, my shame, and even the stubborn desire that won’t seem to go away.
“Fuck,” he curses. “You’re still bleeding.”
I reach up to touch the bite, finding that it burns at even the slightest brush of my fingers. I hiss and close my eyes, holding back a cry of pain. It should have healed already.
When I open my eyes again, Javi is standing in front of me, his brow furrowed. His green eyes flit from my face to the wound, and he opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but shuts it again.
“We should get a medic,” he says.
“No!” I catch his hand before he can turn away, shaking my head. “They won’t help. No one here will help me. We can’t trust them.”
“It needs to be treated,” he says. “I don’t know why it isn’t healing.”
“Because you’re not my mate,” I blurt out.
Javi grimaces, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You believe that stuff?”
