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“A liar?” The chasing expression on his face is what I’d expect if I slapped him.
“You made me feel like I was strong. Suddenly, you’re changing your tune in front of everyone. You don’t trust me? Is that it? You think I’m going to jeopardize everyone?”
“No.”
“Then, what? What is it? Why are you being so goddamn difficult?”
“It’s not a matter of being difficult.” Jaw shifting, nostrils flaring, his reactions warn that I’m thinning his patience.
Good. “Then, what is it? Because in their eyes, I’m now weak and unreliable! A weak link!”
“I don’t give a fuck what you are in their eyes.”
“Of course you don’t! The big bad Alpha wouldn’t dare stoop to the emotions of others!”
Lip peeled to a snarl, he reminds me of a rabid animal on the verge of attack. I’ve snaked beneath his skin, and it’s only a matter of time before he explodes. “As I said, you don’t understand.”
“I won’t let you treat me like I’m fragile! I won’t let you treat me like my father! I won’t let you, or any other man, ever break me down again”
“And I won’t let you break me, either!” The wall slams into my spine, as he presses me against it and wraps his palm around my throat, holding me in a way he hasn’t before. A thrum of fear pulses through my veins with this strange behavior, and for the first time, I wonder if I’ve pushed him too far. “I can tear a man apart with my bare hands, limb by limb, bone by bone.” Words spoken through clenched teeth, he practically sizzles with the heat of his anger, his eye holding an intense, murderous stare, from which I want to turn away, but can’t. “I can burn him alive, and the sound of his screams as his skin turns black is of no consequence to me. I was bred and trained to kill without mercy, or morals, and I would do so without hesitation.” The sharp rage in his eye softens, and he releases my throat, stroking his thumb down my cheek as he swallows back a harsh gulp. “But the thought of someone ever hurting you again is a pain I can’t take. I’m not strong enough for that.”
“Titus …” I know that pain too well. I felt it when I watched him succumb to the poison. “I promise you, I won’t put you, me, or anyone else in danger.”
“I’m sorry, Thalia. I would die a thousand times over to keep you safe. I won’t risk it.” Arguing with him is futile, and the expression staring back at me tells me he has zero interest in entertaining my objections. “We’ll bring you his head.”
An apology simmers on his lips when he presses them to mine.
“And if something happens to you? I’m here waiting, praying you come back to me?”
“You’re my reason for staying alive. I’ll come back to you.” With a soft brush of my cheek, he strides off back toward the group.
The heart is the most stubborn organ in the body, the way it constantly battles the brain. Where my head tells me that Titus is wrong for making me stay back, my heart knows why. It knows, because even as I stand here cursing him, there’s an ache of despair throbbing inside my chest at the thought of never seeing him again. The difference between the two of us is, he was born to fight.
I wasn’t.
I was bred to stay behind and care for the home. To wait for man’s return and pray no harm comes to him. I remember those nights as a child, watching my mother weep at the foot of the staircase, waiting on my father’s return from the Deadlands. How hardened her heart became over the years. How unaffected, up until the point she finally received the news of his death.
She didn’t cry at first, and I thought it odd at the time, but it wasn’t long before I realized. She’d already mourned his death every time he walked out the door. She’d shed so many tears for so long that she was empty of them. Empty of pain. Of emotion.
Of love, too, I suspect.
I refuse to let it be that way with Titus. I don’t want a hardened heart like my mother’s. Not with him.
Rounding back toward the front, I skid to a halt on seeing only Lilith standing by the small gathering spot, where the remains of my diagram on the ground have been trampled by footprints.
“What’s going on? Where’s Titus?”
“He and Atticus left to round up supplies and weapons. Told me to gather the women and meet up at the highway.” She twists around, arms crossed, and gives me a onceover. “So I’m gathering the women. Are you ready?”
Half smiling, I glance toward the empty path, where I suspect Titus and Atticus set afoot. “He’ll be furious when he finds out I’ve tagged along.”
“Yes, I suppose he will. And tell me, what man doesn’t fight harder when he’s furious?”
* * *
The truck jostles and bounces over the rough terrain, as Lilith drives toward the rendezvous point. My nerves are frayed, imagining the look on Titus’s face, when he sees I’ve gone against his wishes. While I recognize it’s not a matter of control for him, but his fears, the frustration that he would make such a request still festers inside of me, too reminiscent of the days when my father put his fears before my independence.
The truck rolls to a stop alongside Atticus, who sits off the highway, carving a piece of wood with his blade. How he can remain so calm and collected is a wonder to me. A trait of an Alpha, I’m guessing. He pushes to his feet and strides up to the driver’s window, and I can feel his stare burning into the side of my face, as I try not to look at him.
