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I gaped. “Resistance members?”
Some said “sympathizers,” granted, but the gist was the same.
Auren looked smug, leaning back in his chair. “When those two get done doing all the heavy hitting, we plan to move in and finish the cleanup. The Free Kingdom doesn’t realize they’re helping us rebuild our army with every center they take out, and by the time they do, we’ll be ready to push them out of the States.”
“Are you sure? They’re… they’re powerful, Auren.”
He ran a hand over his hair again, looking a bit guilty; I put together what he was about to say before he did.
“I was hoping you would be willing to help with that.”
I must have made a face because he hurried to continue. “You don’t have to, of course. I said there was no catch for our help, and I meant it, Aria. But you’re one of the people we’re fighting for. Hybrids will never be free to live their lives as long as the Upper Council is in charge.”
Those words ended up following me for the rest of the day.
Sariel was already waiting for me at the cafeteria when I made it in for lunch, an old metal lunchbox in hand. “Since we’ve had such good luck with picnics, want to join me on another one?”
About ten minutes later, he led me to what I could only assume was the prettiest place in this compound—not that that’s saying much, considering the state of most of it, but the grass was green, and the sun was shining. When he dropped down and flipped the lid of our lunch box open, my heart fluttered.
“I’m sorry I’ve been difficult lately,” he sighed, handing me one of the sandwiches within. “I just… it’s been a lot.”
I nodded, scooting closer to him. “We don’t have to talk about it,” I said. The tension leaks from his shoulders, and affection floods the bond. “But I’m here when you’re ready to.”
“I know.”
I tried to quiet the urge to tell him about my conversation with Auren, but it was hard. My wolf was preening over how he’d taken time out of his day to provide for us, and the contentment was… different.
Lunch was quiet but not uncomfortable, and everything was so peaceful that I finally couldn't resist blurting everything out.
Sariel was silent as I began explaining what Auren had told me about the war, being mindful of our connection for any signs of distress, but there was nothing.
And then, there was everything.
“I knew it.”
His anger was palpable. I winced, reaching out to grab his hand when he straightened from his lax position and glared at nothing in particular. “Everyone wants something from us, even—”
His tongue clicked, and he visibly tried to calm himself. It occurred to me I should have held off on telling him everything, but the memory of how I had felt while we were in the Free Kingdom reared its head. I’d have hated him keeping any of this information to himself, no matter how upsetting the news.
“I don’t think it’s like that, Sariel.” I squeezed his hand, and it garnered his attention. “He wasadamantwe didn’t have to do anything for his help.”
Sariel sneered. Even though the look wasn’t directed at me necessarily, it made me flinch. “It’s never that easy for us.”
With that, I watched him swallow whatever other acidic words were trying to escape him instead of spewing them at me.
“Maybe not, but he’s right. Unless we get the Council out of the way, there’s nowhere for us to go; no kind of life we can have.”
“So you’re buying into the propaganda.”
“I’m being reasonable,” I huffed, releasing his hand, finally fed up with his complete irrationality about all of this. “If you’d stop feeling sorry for yourself for five minutes, you’d agree with us.”
I regretted saying that as soon as he shut down, red climbing his neck.
To his credit, he did not lash out; he just stood swiftly, body bunching and flexing like he was two seconds from a full shift.
“I’m going back to our room.”
He stalked off without another word, leaving me and our mess of a picnic behind.
