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I hold back another chuckle at her fierceness. It’s what I love most about her, and I have no doubt she would do exactly as she says.

“Yes, ma’am.”

By the time I get us home, the night’s cooled, but something between us hasn’t. I think she trusts me.

Or maybe she’s just tired of trying not to.

In the morning, I observe her as she sleeps soundly next to me. After fucking her gently when we got home, she seemed to forgive me. At least enough to cuddle after.

Eventually, I slip out from the bed and get ready for the day, then make some oatmeal for us. When I bring a tray over to her, she wakes with a stretch, smiles sweetly, and sits against the pillows.

“Breakfast in bed?” she asks.

“It was microwavable, so yeah. I also have dried cranberries, honey, and walnuts… Wasn’t sure what you wanted.”

“I’ll take all of it.” We both dive in, and she glances at me. With her mouth full, she says, “Maybe we should fight more often.”

“Disagree. I think fighting with you could land me in the hospital at some point.”

She giggles. “I’m still sorry.”

“Well, I’m not. I was amused by your reaction. And now I know when you want us to have kids.”

With a slow chew, she considers her next words. “I think I want to be married first.”

“Our Culling is in May.”

Her eyes blink bashfully. “That’s, uh, not what I meant.”

“Are you asking me if I plan to do a civil wedding? Or if this is just for the orders?”

When she doesn’t respond, I toss all our food across the room with a dramatic shove, then grab her and put her on my lap so our faces are inches from each other.

“Ask me,” I command.

Her voice is quiet, but I’m already losing my fucking mind over her doubt. “Ask you what?”

“Ask me if you think I’m doing this for an order .”

She swallows audibly, her words coming out with uncharacteristic hesitance. “A-are you?”

Pain grips my heart. When will she be able to accept my declarations of love? What if she never feels it in response?

What if she never loves me?

I shake my head. It honestly doesn’t matter. If I have her to love for the rest of my life, I’ll do it. I’ll make her happy.

“Fuck no. When have you known me to be obedient?” My lips brush against her forehead. “I’m doing this because I love you.” Dragging my mouth down to meet hers, she kisses me briefly, still a bit stunned from my outburst. “And I will be marrying you. Fuck the Culling.”

“But we have to, Ryan!”

“I mean, I’ll do their stupid ritual ceremony. But there’s no way I’ll let them touch you during. You are mine and no one else’s. Robed, old, droopy balls be damned.”

Her eyes dart between mine as she considers my response.

With a hitch, I jar her slightly. “Okay?” I ask.

“Yes, definitely okay. No old, droopy balls.” She relaxes enough that her lips form a small smile.

“Well, mine will get saggy someday.”

She shrugs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ll be saggy then, too.”

“Then our loose skin can smack and make nasty sounds.”

She lets out a full-belly laugh and, fuck , it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard. Her joy fills me up with the same, and I lay her back on the bed and tickle her ribs until she’s begging me to stop.

“I’ve got an appointment today. And I don’t want you alone,” I tell her after I clean up the mess.

“An appointment?”

“Yeah. I’m getting a new tattoo.”

Crawling her fingers over my arm, she teases me. “Oh. What will it be?”

I tap the end of her nose with my finger and tug on my leather jacket. “You’ll see.”

As she pulls on her jeans, she grabs her phone. “Fine. I’ll hang with Oz today. I haven’t caught up with him in a while.”

“That’s a good idea.”

When I grab my key and turn to leave, she grimaces. “What?”

“He says he’s busy. I guess I’ll have to go with Valencia for coffee. Text me when you’re done?”

“Of course, pink cheeks. I love you.”

The new ink doesn’t take long and looks perfect. Exactly how I described. Fortunately, Wrench was available, so I didn’t have to use fucking Nico Griffin. Once she bandages me up, she gives me aftercare instructions, but her demeanor is robotic and dismissive.

“Thanks, Wrench. Something wrong?”

As she cleans up her station, I toss my jacket on and pause at the door. She says, “I think you may be more comfortable going down the road to Inkredible next time.”

“My money no good here now?”

Her eyes dart to the station across the parlor, where Nico rips off black nylon gloves and tosses them in a can while staring at me intensely. A tall, shadowy figure stands behind the white frosted door next to him.

“It’s fine, but I think you may be more comfort?—”

Maintaining my gaze on Nico, I mutter, “I get it.”

As assurance, I slyly touch the barrel of my Smith & Wesson sitting in its holster buried in the lining of my coat. There’s no way I’d come here without a way to defend myself. Just hoping I don’t have to use it. But the way he’s looking at me says I might.

“Good luck to you, Ryan.”

When I head out the door, my head is on a swivel.

Wren is right. I would be much more comfortable going somewhere without Delta involvement.

Especially the likes of the Griffin boys.

My only hope, though, is that Adal Freidenberg would stick up for me.

We haven’t gotten close , but enough that I would think he’d be okay with me now that I’m appointed to his sister. Surely, Max told him.

Full throttle, I rip through the side streets on my bike. But the feeling that someone is following me won’t leave. Doesn’t matter. There’s no way they could catch me.

At the north end of campus, I pause at a deserted red light, hoping it will change quickly. My Theta tattoo burns on my chest like a brand, declaring to everyone that I’m on the wrong side of the tracks.

When the green light flashes, I move forward, deciding to cut through campus as much as I can. As I pass an old cafe, a white SUV pulls out of the driveway, and I swerve to get away from it, but it doesn’t stop.

They floor the gas, nailing me in the side of the leg. I’m pitched into the air and my bike shatters beneath me.

The ground surges closer and closer, the pavement looking like it’s going to create a deadly impact. And when I hit, everything hurts.

Before blackness surrounds me, I find myself laughing at the irony.

There was a time not so long ago when I would have begged for this kind of ending. To die like this. Here on the road.

Now, all I want to do is live.

For her.