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Forget sex. I wanted to lie in bed for an entirely different reason. Each movement was met with protest as I rose from the table. Rapp offered to clean up so Rokath could escort me back to our tent. I bid my friend a goodnight and then followed my mate out of the light and into the dark.
At least now that the sun had disappeared, a cool breeze swept over us.
As we neared our abode, Rokath’s hand brushed against mine. I linked my fingers with his, subtly peeking up at him through my lashes. The black around us had nothing on the energy radiating off of him.
I welcomed it. Sank into it like it was a cool stream waiting to sweep me away. Because Rokath had taught me one important lesson, even more essential than fighting.
Safety was for the naive.
To survive in this world, I needed power. I’d been shattered by my abusive husband, wounded by the Angels who captured me. I knew what it was to choke on silence, to be dismissed, disregarded, and disbelieved.
Never again.
Zaph and the others had no idea the Imposter they helped create. And when I wore those females’ faces, I’d savor the knowledge that I was a wolf in sheep’s clothing and they had no idea I was among them.
I would smile as I slaughtered them all.