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“Ineedthem.”
His shoulders are rigid blocks of wood for another several long, still moments. Then they sink down his back and he sighs, rubbing a hand roughly over his face one more time. He scratches his bearded cheek.I remember tugging on his beard last night…with my teeth.Today, it looks even more matted. Ilikethe way he looks like pure wilderness.
I glance at his lips. I liked the wilderness of his beard against my face last night. My chin and the area around my mouth feel a little raw because of it. He’s a good kisser.Fuck. Don’t think that, especially because I don’t think he’d think the same about me.I tear the thought apart with my blunt teeth because that’s all that I have left to defend myself with.
I quickly bite my lips inside my mouth until Pain taps me on the shoulder and helps me refocus on what I need. And I don’t need kisses. I don’t need anything from him. Just the damn boots.
“My boots,” I bite out.
He mutters under his breath and stomps away, returning a couple moments later carrying two huge backpacks. He drops them at my feet. “Start goin’ through these. See if there’s anything to wear. Your boots are soaked and so is all your shit. Can’t put ‘em back on yet.”
I glance around, not wanting to make any more conversation than absolutely necessary with him, and try to figure out what the hell happened. How did I get here? How am I even still alive? I rub my eyes while Adam —fuck— the Berserker turns his back to me and moves through what looks like the vestiges of an abandoned campsite. Where the hell are we and what happened here? I glance around, taking it all in and not liking any of it.
We’re on the fringes of Dark City now, at the border where Paradise Hole’s murky greyness begins to transform and where the leaves sprouting off of the trees are actually green in places and their trunks have faintly greenish moss.
The sky overhead is dark, but that’s nothing new — the only thing that isn’t. Because scattered around us now are clustered fires — at least three — clearly abandoned in a hurry. Packs were left open, their contents scattered, and whatever Alphas they belonged to — or wily Betas — were well-equipped.
Spilling out of half-opened packs are canvas sacks of rice and half-eaten bags of dried meat. The Berserker drops one in front of me, a sack of raisins and peanuts alongside it that look virtually untouched. “Looks like enough for you for tonight. Want you to eat all of it.”
“If I eat all of it, what are you gonna eat?” Why did I ask that? I don’t care. Stupid stupid stupid.
“Beast caught a deer. Gonna skin it now. Then, I’ll get a fire going.”
“Are you sure we should linger here?” I glance around, skin prickling with awareness and unease.
“I circled the area. Not an Alpha or a Beta for miles. Whoever came here left fast and they’re not comin’ back anytime soon, if they’re even still alive.”
I shiver as a surge of wind spirals down through the trees and gives my cheeks a loving caress. My neck strains when I twist towards the packs and start to go through them with my good hand. Augh. The stitching. I try not to scratch at it, but it itches.
“Don’t scratch it,” he grumbles.
“I’m not.” I am.
He gives me a withering look, but I scrunch my face up and refuse to back down. He shakes his head and saunters off with a swagger I definitely don’t like.His butt is so muscular.Gah.
I ignore him to the best of my ability, which doesn’t count for shit. So, I watch him out of the corner of my eye as he continues to rummage and collect stuff in the light of the fire he created. The sky darkens. He skins a deer and I watch him handle the carcass, shaking my head. He makes a mess of the thing. It’s clear he’s not used to this. His Berserker’s beast probably just swallows the animals whole. And in Dark City, he probably eats off of porcelain plates.
I snort at the thought and his gaze flicks up to mine. One corner of his mouth lifts and it does terrible things to me — not the half smile, but the half smile coupled with the blood splattered across his cheek and mouth, and the droplets that have made their way down his neck and onto his chest.Fuck.
“Like your outfit.” His gaze flicks down to the long-sleeved shirt and hideous pants I’ve pulled on.
I grunt. “Better than yours.”
The Berserker’s cargo pants fit him like leggings, so tight every seam looks exhausted from trying not to explode apart. Cutting the knees out of them helped in the sense that he can now bend his knees at least, but the way they strain around his thighs is frankly ridiculous. Hilarious. I don’t laugh, though.Fight it. Fight it!
He looks down and stretches one leg out fully. When he bends it again, he winces and the knee tears halfway up the thigh and halfway down the shin. “No disputin’ that.”
A sharp, loud sound bursts out of me and keeps bursting. The hand I throw over my mouth is too weak to stop or smother it. The Berserker jerks and whirls to face me. His eyes are huge fists in his face and his lips are slightly parted.His eyes… No! Look away look away look away! His expression is surprised at first, but then his stare becomes absolutely ravenous, the caramel color of his gaze brightening to a fire-tarnished gold.
I laughed. I laughed for him.
No, I laughedathim. At him. Yeah. That’s it.
I yank down on the sleeves of my gigantic flannel. It’s hot underneath and that heat intensifies as my face and neck flood with embarrassment. “At least yours doesn’t smell like some other Alpha’s BO.”
He doesn’t answer. It makes me uncomfortable. I get more uncomfortable the more time passes and it doesn’t help that I don’t have anything to do with my hands. I’ve already disassembled the four packs placed in front of me, consolidated all of the equipment, and reorganized everything into the largest two packs once, twice, and then, when I got bored, once again.
I shove my hand in the nut sack — I mean, the sack of peanuts, the bag of peanuts and raisins,fuck— grab a fistful, and carefully examine each peanut before tossing it back. I choke on peanut dust so hard that my eyes water and I don’t hear the sound of the Berserker coming over to me until he’s already there, squatting down, making his other pant leg rip to match the first.
