I don't know what the intended purpose of the book was, but it helped me stay sane by reading as I worried about everyone outside. Damien was here. Did he know I was here?

What did it mean, so close to their attack?

I took a deep breath, shivering in the cold. I had looked around for a blanket, but there was none there. What type of shelter doesn't have a blanket? I was grateful for my long-sleeved shirt and pants, at least.

"The humans and Plutonians are wild today, and the stands are packed to the brim with spectator..." I read. Plutonian by Sonia John. Not a bad read. I was almost finished I was only a few chapters in earlier today.

I was musing about the ending of the book when a foot appeared on the roof. I grabbed my flashlight and stood up. 4327. Or was it 3427? I was about to find out.

As more of the body came into view, I realized it was Elijah.

"Elijah!" I exclaimed. "Are you okay?" I asked as he dropped down. My eyes roved over him. He didn't appear hurt, but he had changed clothes. Had he gotten his other clothing bloody?

"I'm fine," he said tiredly. "The interaction was short. I'm sorry for the long wait."

I nodded slowly. I was grateful to not have to see the monster's face. "He's gone?" I asked. Elijah looked at me with heavy eyes and nodded. That's when I saw a speck of dried blood on his face. "What did Damien do?" I asked.

Eli took a deep breath. "Nothing good."

Left a head. Cold-blooded killer. Wanted to stab his heart then and there. What sort of twisted psycho. And leaving her pregnant in a glass cage? He is sick...

I clutched my head and Elijah reached out to me nervously. "Please just tell me," I said, trying to turn off his thoughts. They made no sense. "Your thoughts are loud, and I'm going to find out one way or another. What happened?"

He wasted no time. "Damien came with the head of Thomas. He found out that Thomas had been spying and cut off his head. He left it for us."

I gasped in shock. Thomas? Thomas with the crooked nose?

"And to add the icing to the cake, he went on a long tirade about how he was going to fu..." he caught himself. "...take you forcefully the next time he laid eyes on you. He wants nothing more than a docile, pregnant mate up in that glass ball above his head for all to see." The rage on Elijah's face made me grateful he was on my team. "He was shouting Claim commands, hoping you were in range of his hearing." I bit down my fear. So much for waiting for my consent, I thought bitterly. Elijah's hands were clenched. "Also, a lot of bull about how I was torturing you."

"He said you were torturing me?"

He nodded and rolled his eyes. "He's a murderous idiot. I didn't want you leaving until we knew he was halfway back to the palace. You're okay?"

I nodded. "Couldn't you have arrested him then?" I asked. "Why wait?"

"We didn't have enough backup tonight. Tonight, we had to protect ourselves. If the other packs had arrived yesterday, we would have been more than prepared. We weren't. There was no violence tonight, but he's caused a lot of fear, especially for those spying for us. We have heightened guards around the borders. Other packs will start arriving today."

I nodded. "That was a close one."

He nodded and then looked at me seriously. "Please know, you are safe here. That alarm sounded when he was an hour away. We had hints that he was leaving hours before that. I slept through them, unfortunately. Normally, I would wake up."

He looked at me and then felt the air.

"You must be freezing," he mused. "A hot shower will do you well. Today we'll prepare. You're free to help. Just stay close to camp. No wandering off, okay? If you really need to fly, just—"

"I'll be fine without a flight today. I'll stay close."

"Thank you," he breathed.

+++++++++

"Naomi, can you another table like these from the storage truck? It's parked—"

"On the far side of the lot," I finished for Berry. She was supervising, excited to have a job even after Eric scolded her for carrying tables. "Got it."

I grabbed a sweatshirt and slid it on over my braids. Remembering how cold it was, I grabbed my winter jacket as well, stepping out of the cantina and down the path toward the parking lot. It wasn't a huge lot and normally it was empty except for the storage box truck. There was limited storage in the cantina, so it was the logical place for storing supplies between shipments.

I walked over, enjoying the brisk cold. The sky looked like it could snow at any moment. Keeping my hands busy helped me immensely. It stopped me from dwelling on what had happened. Thomas was dead. Damien had cut off his head and dropped it in the middle of the road.

I didn't know Thomas very well—he was one of five gammas following me around. But he had died fighting for our cause. Damien would pay for that.

I was exhausted and fearful. But mostly, I was angry. I was angry that Damien thought he had some right over me. I was pissed that he had taken so many lives. I hated that he was entitled to the throne and thought I was a prize to be kept.

He talked about how he wanted me to be pregnant in a glass cage above him. What was I to him? Some sort of breeder? Making babies for him so he can pass along his talents? What a narcissistic, psychotic coward.

I made Elijah swear that he wouldn't kill Damien on my account.

I made no such promise.

I finally made it to the truck and grabbed the side handle, swinging myself onto the edge and preparing to open the back. To my surprise, it was already open.

"Elijah?"

He didn't turn to look at me. Instead, he kept his gaze locked onto the scene in front of him. He sat in the pack of the box truck, surrounded by cardboard boxes. I glanced out at the view out to the woods. It was about as secluded as one could get.

He didn't acknowledge I was there. His eyes were trained onto something in the distance. Liquid glistened on his face.

I sat down next to him quietly. We sat in silence. I leaned back against a cardboard box and turned to Elijah. He didn't move. His shoulders looked heavy. His normally proud stance was defeated.

My eyes traced the outline of his face, taking every detail. Dark stubble ran over his chin. He had heavy bags under his eyes. The past few weeks had truly changed him. I had relied on him so much that sometimes I forgot that he was just a human, too.

"There is so much death," Elijah finally said. He turned to me with weary eyes. "And I'm the one who let him be killed."

Silence.

He was talking about more than Thomas. "Your father?" I asked.

He closed his eyes. "If I had let him use you for a few more minutes, he would still be alive."

We sat there. He was right. But, if he didn't, I would have been his father's slave. His father would have been just as much of a monster as Damien was. None of that was what he needed to hear. I finally leaned my head against his shoulder. He was cold. "I'm sorry he's gone."

Elijah let out a short, pained laugh. "We both lost someone who was only pretending to love us." He turned to me, and I gave him a small smile. We sat there for a few minutes before I shrugged off my jacket and slid it around his shoulders. He nodded into the distance in thanks.

"Elijah," I said softly.

No response.

"Elijah. I want you to know that I...respect you so highly." I turned to face him, even as he stared out into the woods. "Elijah, you are unwaveringly just. I have seen you pick up the beat down and broken countless times. You throw yourself at everything tossed at you and do it excellently. You have such a strong heart. No matter what is going on, I know I can always go to you, even if it's 3 a.m."

I grabbed his hand and rubbed it between mine to warm it. He finally turned to me.

"I...I don't know what your relationship with your father was, but if he had half an ounce of wisdom in his brain, I can't see how he would be anything but proud of the man you've become. I'm sorry he never came to his sense long enough to see that."

Tears leaked from Elijah's eyes even as he gave me a small smile. "Thanks," he said shortly.

"It'll get better," I promised. I had no right to say that, but somehow, I knew it was true. It'll get better.

I've seen men cry. I've seen them cry in pain. Or shame. I've seen men break down in frustration.

Until now, I've never seen a man cry in hope.