Page 142 of Scavenger's Oath

For the first time, the ghosts don’t press against my lungs—they just… sit with me. Manageable. Becausehe’shere.

Zane leans in and presses a kiss to the top of my head.

“Something strong,” he whispers, handing me one last seed. “Something that can survive anything.”

I close my fingers around it like a pledge before pushing itinto the soil and covering it over.

Then he stands, and holds a hand out to me. I take it with a new appreciation for his tender nature.

“You think the others are awake yet?” I ask.

He huffs a soft sound that might be a laugh. “If they’re not, I’m dragging them out myself. I’m not cooking twice.”

A smile breaks out on my face at his mock impatience. He freezes for a second when he sees it, his pupils expanding. Then he clears his throat and starts walking toward the station with my hand in his.

But I hear him mutter under his breath, “God, I love that smile.”

The words sink under my skin, leaving a tingling warmth in my chest that spreads until I have to bite my lip to keep from grinning wider.

Love. Directed at me.

I want to clutch it to my chest and never let go. Even though part of me whispers I don’t deserve it.

But maybe I do.

Because either way… I think it’s already mine.

Chapter 46

Zane

Four years ago

The Pit’s blood-stained exercise mat beckons me.

Chain-link fences rattle around me, construction lights blinding me to the crowd above. The smell of the barrel fires and sweaty bodies fill the air but all I can focus on is the blood.

Blood stains everything—the fences, the mat, the air itself. I taste it when I breathe. It gets me in the mood they came to witness.

As one of the camps favourite berserkers it’s always a huge crowd when they throw me in here.

They scream my name from the scaffolds above the makeshift arena of the concrete parking lot. Men without a scrap of humanity between them. A few dead-eyed women who’ve been dragged along by whoever claimed them tonight.

Most of them laugh, others just watch in anticipation, chewing stolen jerky and drinking whatever passes for booze these days.

A guard smacks the fence behind me, getting my attention. “Hope you’re ready to give ‘em a show pretty boy. They’re bringing your pound of flesh out now.”

I give him a slow menacing smile and he backs up a step,hand trembling on his gun.

The mat gives just enough under my boots, springy like it’s alive, feeding the energy in my muscles. My dick grows against the rough seam of my pants, eager before I’ve even seen her.

This isn’t my first time in the Pit. Not even close.

The first time, I vomited before they threw me in. The second time, I fought them until my arms were bruised black. The third, I started shutting it out.

That was nearly two years ago.

Now they don’t have to drag me in. The scent and the cheers are enough for me to tap into the beast they’ve made me. The Berserker.The Monster.