No Hunter would let himself be taken. You should've died. You're not a man. You're food. Then I almost threw up; it took all my will to choke it down.
Deuce reached for me, then drew back, as if remembering that touch wasn't what I wanted anymore. I did, but close contact had so many echoes, like a child weeping at the bottom of a well. My foster father, the Muties, years alone in the dark... there had been so much pain, so much loss, but being taken? Changed me. I couldn't silence the scream in my head that said I should've been strong enough, smart enough, to stop it. No matter how I tried, that accusation never ceased.
"Fade, you said you can't be what I need, but you're everything I want. Even if you give up on yourself, I never will. I'll fight for you."
"You shouldn't say that," I muttered. "I'm not worth it."
"That's not true." She lifted her face, so I could read the sincerity there. That smile was a promise, and I clung to it like I had my father's hand, long ago, in the river, while my mother sunned herself on the rocky shore.
As she studied me, my chest ached until I couldn't stand it. For inexplicable reasons, she blew me a kiss, and I raised my hand to catch it. Though it was an ephemeral thing, intangible, I daydreamed her warmth against my palm, and for the first time since I came back, hope fluttered its fragile wings. My heart throbbed her name, all the way to my fingertips, as I watched her walk away.
Once she was gone from sight, I ran into the house to pack my bag. Though she hadn't said so, I knew from Edmund that this assignment came from Elder Bigwater, so it made sense to search for her there. As I passed the blacksmith shop, a cheerful tune preceded him, then Stalker came out, a pack slung over one shoulder.
My jaw clenched.
"Did she take pity on you, ask you to tag along?" he asked, sharp as a knife. "I wonder if she kissed you. She's like a secret berry patch, all thorns on the surface and sweetness beneath." He licked his lips pointedly.
Killing him would've been perfect. My fingers trembled on my blades, but I kept them sheathed out of respect for Deuce. She seemed to find something in him worth saving. I disagreed. In my eyes, this animal would never be anything but a weapon, fodder to keep the Muties from eating someone else. What he'd permitted to happen to Tegan assured me he was filth, and if that wasn't enough, he'd hunted Deuce and me for sport. Finally, if not for him, Pearl would still be alive.
Deuce might be able to forgive you. Not me. I'd rather stab you in your black heart, wolf boy.
"She will never see you," I said quietly. "You're a sparring partner, convenient to her, useful, even. You may trick her now and then, because she's not bent like you. But she'll never, ever offer what you want of her own free will."
He sneered, the ugly expression pulling at his scars, but I saw from the desolation in his eyes that I'd drawn blood. "And what do you think I'm after?"
"Her heart," I said. "Which is too bad. You see... that's mine, and it always will be. Odd as it might seem, she'd rather have me broken than you whole."
When Stalker shoved past me, he wasn't whistling anymore. I watched him go, knowing I should feel a little guilty, but for the first time in days, a smile broke over me, and it felt like sunrise. This was a deep, clean breath, bracing me for the trouble that lay ahead. The danger hardly seemed to matter, as long as I was with her.
Be patient, solnyshko moyo. I'm still here. And I'm coming back to you.