Page 25 of Marked By Him

“Did you make them?” He didn’t break his, either.

My heart galloped and throat tightened. “The clothes?”

“Yes. I’ve never seen that material before.”

Here we were, talking about clothes as if the butterflies in my stomach hadn’t burst into flames the second he looked at me. It was almost laughable.

“I wish. We make weapons. Then, we trade them for food, clothes, medicine, anything other camps can scavenge from the big cities.” I spoke about the camp as though I were still a part of it, as if it were still my home. I should have said Iusedto make weapons. Now, I spent my nights running from bad dreams and my days wondering if I still had a purpose.

Roman studied me for a moment before finally tearing his gaze from mine. “Sit.”

It was a simple command. A one-word order. The authority in it made my breath stall, but somehow, I managed to obey.

He opened a cabinet, then closed it, followed by a drawer. And then the refrigerator.

He walked over and set two glasses of milk on the table. Then, he turned back toward the kitchen, returning a moment later. He sat across from me, then slid a plate full of eggs and fruit in my direction. It was like a dance I couldn’t stop watching. Every move was full of confidence and grace.

“We don’t trade. And we don’t scavenge. Everything we have, we grow or make ourselves. Our ancestors did a good job of making sure we were equipped with everything we’d need to survive within these walls,” he said.

“You make your clothes?”As in, from scratch?

“The women do. From flax and wool.” He speared a forkful of scrambled eggs. “We farm. We build. We don’t ever have to leave except to go get rocks or wood.” His hand froze mid-air and he got a faraway look, like he was seeing something that wasn’t there.Or someone.He sighed and lowered his fork. It landed on his plate with a metallic clank.

Awkward silence thickened the air. The weight of all our unspoken words made my stomach drop. For several long seconds, we communicated with nothing more than a stare. Pain festered in his eyes. It was the kind of pain only loss could bring. I knew because I suffered from it, too.

What hurt you, Roman? Who did you lose?

I wet my dry lips. And then I plucked a berry from my plate and changed the subject, letting the secrets fall.For now.“Your camp must be massive. With all that many people doing all those things.”Could I be any worse at small talk?

But it worked.

The tension lifted.

The atmosphere shifted from feeling like heavy steel to calm waters.

A smirk tilted his lips. “When you finish eating, I’ll show it to you.”

“Seriously?” It took everything I had to keep my tone calm.

He was taking me outside. He was showing me his world.

He bowed his head in a nod. “Seriously.”

Finally. He was giving me a secret.

13

Eve

I finishedthe eggs and fruit because I was starved. Then, I grabbed my clothes, hurried upstairs and got dressed. The whole time, my heart fluttered like it had wings. I felt human again.

I felt free.

And as I bounded down the stairs and met Roman at the front door, a tinge of sudden worry shot down my spine.

What if his people don’t like me?

What if this is a trick?

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