Chapter 24

Carter's kick had knocked Bash out, and it was all I could do to watch him worriedly between the bars of the twin cages they'd put us in.

Each of us had a thin mattress on a metal frame folded down from the wall, but they'd dumped Bash on the floor. So that was where I'd chosen to sit cross-legged, watching him for any signs of consciousness. At least the room was well lit, with a pathway and chairs set in front of each cage, presumably for visitors. Although I couldn't think of anyone I wanted to see.

I passed the time thinking about Bash. If that was even his real name. He'd been put into the role of watcher as surely as I'd been put into the role of breeder. Neither of us had an alternative, a different way to live our lives than the ones they'd selected for us. I watched his brow furrow in sleep, wishing he was close enough for me to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

His breathing was even with only a small wheeze at the end of each breath. A stain of dried blood darkened his hair from a wound long healed, and I hated the sight of it. I wanted to wash it clean, to talk to him and for him to talk to me, but on he slept. And the more I stared at his handsome face, the more I understood.

He'd been on the outside looking in, and he'd wanted more for himself. Wanted it badly enough to take it. How could I fault him for that when it was what I'd always dreamed of doing?

It felt like hours had passed by the time he groaned and opened his eyes, a hand shooting to his forehead. He sat up to cradle his head with both hands, rubbing his palms into his eyes.

"I'm glad you're awake."

He jolted at my voice, his face contorting in pain, before he blinked at me in surprise. Wincing, I resolved to lower my voice.

"Syl? What are you doing here?" His words were laced with concern, and I went on my knees at the bars between us.

"You don't remember?" Perhaps he'd been unconscious when I'd leapt on Carter, a thought which hadn't crossed my mind. He looked up at me, his cheeks blotchy with redness.

"No, sorry. What happened?"

I grinned, knowing the whites of my teeth were showing—and just how savage it looked.

"I kicked Carter's ass."

Bash gave a barking laugh, quickly started to cough, and raised a hand to his head. I reached out for him through the bars, wanting to touch him, to convince myself he was okay.

"Are you okay? Do you need more of your medicine?"

He snorted, looking up at me. "Syl, I'm sorry. I've been such a fool, sneaking my way into Pack Breeders 103C, lying to you, letting you believe I'm something I'm not. This is what I am." He gestured down at himself. "Weak. Pathetic. Unsuitable as a breeder and too sickly for the fields." He gave a self-deprecating smile. "I can't even give you the baby you want so badly. Fucking worthless." He drove a fist into his thigh.

I was incredulous. A baby?

"Bash, where did you get the idea I wanted a baby?"

He looked up and met my eyes with a frown.

"When you didn't get pregnant, and you cried. I know why you cry, Syl. I know how badly you want to be a mother. It's why I backed off. I can't"—he choked up and paused to swallow before continuing—"I can't give you what you need."

It was my turn to laugh. The sound echoed around the room—the merriment at odds with the grief etched in Bash's face. "A baby? Bash, I've never wanted children. Never."

He stared in shock at me.

"But your period, you were so upset."

He didn't get it. Couldn't get it. He'd been assigned the role of watcher. The fields had never been a threat looming over his head.

"Because I have to get pregnant, Bash, not because I wanted to." Tears sprang to my eyes, and I looked down to hide them. I wanted to be vulnerable with him, I did. But this burden had been something I'd shouldered alone for so long. "You don't know what it's like to be a woman in this pack. We aren't allowed in the guard, and if you aren't selected to be an administrator or a coordinator, well, you can either breed or be sent to the fields." I choked in a shaky breath. "My sister failed as a breeder, and every fucking month I have to watch as she falls apart. Do you know what that's like? To watch someone you love die for the glory of the pack?"

A tear slipped loose, the pain too much. I startled when a warm hand cupped my cheek. Looking up, I found Bash watching me with a steady gaze. He'd pulled the confession from me, just as he always had. My hand crept up to hold his in place.

"There is no choice for me, Bash. It's breed or burn."

He should've been disgusted at how anti-pack my sentiments were, how unwilling I was to work the fields for future generations, but I saw only understanding in his clear blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, Syl. I had no idea."

Sucking in a shuddering breath, I licked my lips. "And what you were assigned, Bash, it-it's unfair. You never had a choice either."

It was his turn to look away, and I felt his pain as if it were my own.

"No, I didn't. Once they assigned me the role of watcher, I was shoved into a room to watch better men, chosen men, father children. I was worthless to the pack, unwanted, shoved to the side." I clung to his hand, wanting it pressed tighter to me, wanting to give him some comfort. "And I almost died in there, Syl. I was close to giving up, letting myself just waste away into nothing, and then I saw you on my monitor." He looked up at me, his gaze piercing. "I saw you cry, and I wanted something I shouldn't have. Something I had no right to. I wanted to know why."

And cry I did, blubbering and kissing his palm, wishing the bars weren't between us so he could take me into his arms. He didn't say anything, just stroked my cheek with his thumb and waited until I regained my composure enough to speak.

"You're not worthless to me. I don't care if sometimes you can't run or need medicine. You're amazing. You're perfect, and you're not unwanted, because I want you and anyone who doesn't is a fool." I laughed, and he gave a small chuckle, his hand darting up to his forehead as a flash of pain crossed his features. I leaned forward to clutch the bars and waited for him to look at me. "I love you."

Bash's eyes cleared, and he moved on his knees in front of me, covering my hands with his own.

"Syl. I'm nothing next to you. You're special, beautiful. I'm a lowly watcher. I can't give you—"

I cut his words off with a kiss, pressing my lips against his and darting out my tongue to taste him.

"Shh. I don't care about any of that. I love you. Even if I don't know your real name." I looked down, and we both smiled at the absurdity of the situation. After everything we'd shared, the love I bore for this man in front of me, how badly I wanted to be his and for him to be mine, yet I didn't know his true name.

"It's Ashton, but I chose Bash for you, Syl. Please call me Bash. Ashton is"—Bash licked his lip, fixing his gaze at something over my shoulder—"not who I want to be anymore. I left that life and that name when I chose you."

I nodded, looking down thoughtfully.

"They'll banish me for this, Syl. I know it. They can't allow a watcher to get away with this, and I've been deemed unfit for the fields."

I nodded my agreement. It was the only punishment available for one such as him.

"Yes, they will, and I'm going with you."

Bash stared at me, his eyebrows raised and eyes wide. His mouth worked.

"No, Syl. There's no way I'll allow you to make that sacrifice."

I laughed, reaching out to lay my hand across his cheek and feel the prick of his stubble.

"You can't stop me. If you leave without me, I'll just follow you."

His face fell, and I felt a stab of guilt at the sight.

"Syl—"

"Bash, there's nothing for me here. This was my last cycle to conceive, and I've already had an extension. Seeing as how you can't get me pregnant, I don't think it likely I've conceived, and I won't"—fire entered my words—"I won't go to the poisoned fields to work them, for a pack that wouldn't give me that choice. That would do this to you. I won't sacrifice myself for them. As to leaving, I don't care what's out there. I'm not afraid of going into the unknown with you, Bash. The only thing that scares me is a life without you in it."

"Syl." He spoke my name in a whisper, leaning forward to touch his lips to mine tenderly. "I love you. I'll always be your watcher, your shadow, your protector. I'll do whatever I can to take care of you. I swear it." His voice took on a different tone. One I could feel in my bones. One that sang in my heart. "I'll be your teacher, your lover–whatever you need me to be."

I stared at him in shock. My body was alight with his words, and I sensed it was my turn.

"They called you defective, but I will never call you that—could never call you that. You're perfect, and you're mine. Mine alone, every word, every touch is for me, and in turn, I give you everything I am."

He hummed his agreement, and the thing in my chest flared to life again, edging me closer to something.

"From the moment I saw you, you awoke something in me. You don't burn for them, Syl, you burn for me," he said the last with a growl that echoed through my chest and sent a shiver of arousal straight to my core. Heat rose to my cheeks, and I realized he was right. I did burn for him. It was the right word to describe this insatiable, living thing between us.

My trembling lips collided with his, my hand seeking his nakedness even as he sought mine, both of us fighting with the bars and the bit of distance they put between us. I'd put on a white cotton shirt and shorts, but they hadn't been willing to dress Bash and had left his clothing on the concrete floor.

Something wild rose within me, and I felt the need to sink my teeth into Bash. To mark him, claim him, make him mine. I wanted his neck, but I couldn't fit my face through the bars, and all I could do was whimper at the strange need going unmet. He pulled away to look at me, the same feral need etched into the snarl on his face.

"Your wrist, Syl, give me your wrist."

I thrust my shaky hand through the bars, my eyes rolling back when his head dropped to it and his tongue darted out to trace a vein.

"Bash," I pleaded, but for what, I didn't know. I only knew that he wasn't doing it, was holding back. Then his teeth pierced the flesh, and the arousal I'd been feeling increased tenfold until it was almost at the height of heat madness. A bolt of need coursed through my veins, all emanating from the teeth embedded in my wrist. It should have hurt, and in some corner of my mind, I felt the sting of his teeth, but the pleasure it brought was so extreme that the pain was an afterthought.

The need to sink my teeth into his flesh consumed me.

"Give me yours." My voice was low, almost unrecognizable.

Bash watched me, his pupils dilated. His breath had gone raspy, and while I worried for him, I knew I couldn't stop this. I paused a moment to lay a hand on his heaving chest.

"Easy." I waited until his lust heavy gaze met mine and his breathing slowed before I pulled his arm through the bars.

I'd always loved his hands. They were an artist's hands, roughened in a strange place on the side of his finger where no worker was likely to hold a large tool. His fingertips were soft, and I brought his hand to my cheek, turning to trail kisses across his palm and down to his wrist.

"I claim you. I mark you. I mate you," I whispered, not knowing where the strange words came from, but feeling the rightness of them a moment before I could resist no longer, and my teeth sank deep into the flesh of Bash's wrist.

He cried out, and I recognized it from my own experience—arousal and pleasure so intense it was nearly orgasmic, and that feeling of connectedness, only now it was nearly complete.

Blood pounded in my head as I lifted my eyes to meet Bash, and a moment of understanding passed between us.

"I need to feel you."

He nodded in understanding, and we both stood. Bash on shaky legs worrying enough to dull the moment, but then he was standing before me, his cock straining as he positioned himself between the bars.

He was taller than me, and he lifted me into his arms, holding me high enough to kiss my lips before lowering me slowly onto his length. The bars prevented him from sinking fully, and I moaned against him, wanting all of him as he'd promised. Wanting to give him all of me as I'd promised. But his lips were on me, his hands soothing across my back, and I knew we'd get a chance to properly consummate our union.

This would have to do for now.

He lifted me up and down on the part of him that could reach through the bars, a few precious inches that made me desperate for more. I climbed the bars like an animal, and he helped hoist me up until I could hook my legs on his forearms, but the moment he took my full weight, he wheezed. And no wonder after his breathing episode in the forest and then that asshole Carter. The noise stabbed at me, but I knew we needed this, so I gripped the bars above his head, using my upper body to relieve some of my body weight. He gave me a thankful look just before he squeezed my ass, panting into my neck. He groaned, his breath hot on my neck as his palms massaged my cheeks.

How it must've hurt him to not take me fully. I reached through the bars, stroking along his length to soothe the distance between us. He moaned and the sound went right to my core.

Faster. Harder. Damn, I wanted it harder, but his hands massaging my ass and the few precious inches I could get were all to be found. The cold metal bars clanged as I pumped him, squeezing his cock mercilessly as he thrust into me, one hand snaking around my front to find the delicate bundle of nerves crying out for his attention. I threw my head back, panting and wriggling against his hand. His touch was everything, but I wanted more, wanted every inch of my skin to be touching his, until we were as one. More. More. More.

Stroke. Thrust. We found a rhythm. A way through the restrictions, until he throbbed beneath my fingers. I arched back, almost falling if Bash hadn't caught me at the last second. Every fiber of my being burst apart, shattering as release tore through me, different from any I'd experienced. This one was doing something to me, changing something in me, and I emerged from it to stare at Bash with perfect clarity.

Bash.

Ashton.

My shadow.

My watcher.

My mate.