Page 101 of Scavenger's Oath

That makes her smile. Just a little. It’s small and tired, but it’s real.

She exhales slowly. “You always make it sound so easy.”

“Because when it comes to you,” I murmur, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear, “it is. Keeping you safe… that’s the one thing that makes sense to us.”

Silence lapses again, only this time, it’s a little more comfortable.

Ivy steps away from the door, walking toward the kitchen, trailing her fingers along the wall as she goes.

I follow like I’m tethered to her. Because I feel like I am. My obsession with her is more than just keeping her safe.

And a huge part of me wants—no, needs—to redeem my past self.

To prove to myself that I’m not the same depraved bastard I used to be. That I can be the man she sees. The one I’m trying to be for her. To treat her like the goddess she is… not the whore I want to make her.

“When I was with them,” she says quietly, sitting down at the table, “they didn’t let us outside much. Tending the vegetable gardens was one of the only times I got to be out in the sun. But I loved it. Even the weeding,” she laughs softly and looks down at her hands. “I could pretend like I was somewhere else. Like I had a normal life.”

Grabbing a frying pan from the dishrack, I get started on breakfast while she reminisces.

I’ve never understood the need to speak about the past. But if she finds distraction or healing in speaking about it, then I’ll listen for the rest of my life.

“I’d imagine I was tending my own garden. That it was my house, my chickens.” Her lips curve softly. “That I was just a normal girl.”Her smile falls. “Not a slave.”

“You’re not,” I say, sharper than I mean to and pouring a little too much oil in the pan. “Not anymore. And you won’t ever have to go back to those fuckers.”

She wants a garden. Chickens. Peace. I’ll give her all of it. I’ll give her anything she asks, even if it’s my head on a stick.

Phoenix and Myles will make sure those fuckers aren’t circling back and I’ll keep her mind off it in the meantime.

Ivy nods, eyes still distant. “What about you?” she asks. “Did you have anything like that when you were with the traders? Something to help you escape reality?”

My jaw tightens, the memory hitting harder than I expect.

Keeping my eyes on the frying pan, my hand instinctually comes up to scratch at the brand on my chest. But I try to hide my reaction, not wanting her to think she can’t ask.

“I didn’t have much to hold on to,” I say finally, trying to keep my focus on the oil warming in the pan. “The jobs they gave me were what I wanted to escape from. It was fighting mostly. Killing and stealing—” I pause.

Shit, I can’t tell her I was directly involved in stealing women. That’d hit way too close to home for her. Especially when the ones she escaped might be getting closer.

Peering over my shoulder, I see she’s waiting for me to continue.

Instead, I focus on the part that’ll prove my ability to protect her. “They trained us to fight. But not for survival… for conquest. They’d send a few of us out as ‘berserkers’ on the front lines, when we were… attacking other groups. It was a fun intimidation tactic.”

Her head tilts in my peripheral, but she doesn’t shrink into herself. I don’t know what’s compelling me to open up to her. But it feels good.

“Othertimes they made us fight inThe Pit. It was basically like their Roman colosseum—but it was just an old parking lot with a bunch of chain-link fences. Just entertainment for the group when they couldn’t get their fill of war. But that was also where—”

Fuck, I can’t say that either. No, she should know who I was. “They also made us train women in The Pit. It was all just… so fucked up.”

My hand shakes as I grab the spatula.

The things I’ve done remind me I don’t have the right to breathe the same air as her. The nightmares still haunt me. The look on those girls faces seared into my brain before I learnt to keep them face-down.

I hadn’t slept a full night in years until recently.

This is exactly why I don’t deserve Ivy. Because I keep dreaming about her in their place. If she knew… she’d never let me this close.

She’s quiet now. I can’t even make eye contact with her. “There was no joy to be found. No escape. No pretending.”