She came to her feet, feeling a moment's regret as his hand fell to his side.
"Now, that would just be too easy," she told him flippantly. "A girl has to maintain a little mystery, you know."
The ring was suddenly like a heavy weight on her finger now. For the first time since her father had pushed it on, Storme wanted to take it off.
It was no longer a reminder of her father, it was now a reminder of everything she didn't have, and everything she wouldn't have in her life.
"A little mystery, or as much resentment as possible?" he asked and sighed.
"Hey, whichever works at the moment," she assured him as she grabbed the heavy weight of her backpack and headed for the kitchen.
"You won't need the bag," he assured her.
"My bag goes where I go," she told him firmly. "If it stays, I stay."
"Why? What's in it, Storme, that you feel you have to have?"
For a second, her gaze flickered with a vulnerability he hadn't expected.
"You never know what can happen, Styx," she finally stated, the edge of discomfort in her voice reflecting in her scent.
Styx realized that her statement, that one never knew what could happen, was far too true in her life. For ten years she had never known where safety lay, or if the next day would be her last.
Styx watched her back as she disappeared out of the bedroom, and he breathed out a heavy sigh.
The backpack was a symbol of security, perhaps. As she had said, she was never seen without it. But that didn't mean she would need it here in Haven. There were no longer any weapons in it, and there was nothing that would indicate the data chip was hidden there.
The backpack and its contents had been scanned, run through an x-ray and every conceivable electronic imaging device that would have revealed the data chip.
There was nothing hidden there, he was willing to bet his ass on it. Nothing but her need to ensure that no matter what happened, she was prepared. He could live with that.
Shaking his head at the wonder and the confusion this woman brought to his life, Styx followed behind her to the kitchen and watched as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
The backpack rested on a kitchen chair, the faded olive green canvas nicked and frayed in places. For a moment, he was damned jealous of the pack's importance in her life. She held on to it as a talisman of some kind. The way he wished she would accept him into her life. Perhaps then the torturous arousal burning in his cock and balls would stop driving him insane. The mating knot refused to swell and release the hormone-rich semen that would begin the full mating process.
As Styx moved to the long drawer at the side of the ceramic sink and pulled it open, he wondered at the jokes nature seemed to enjoy playing on the Breeds.
He grabbed a milk chocolate bar from the drawer and opened it and as he watched her sip at her coffee, he took a bite of the smooth, rich sweet.
Damn, he loved chocolate, but he'd give it up easily if it meant having Storme as he needed her.
"That has to be the third bar of chocolate I've seen you eat in the past three days." She stared at the chocolate with a hint of jealousy.
"It's actually most likely the twelfth or better," he drawled, allowing the smooth edge of the brogue back into his voice.
She reacted to it instantly. The soft edge of liquid heat wafted from her, tempting his senses and making his cock throb harder. Damn, at this rate, the pigs might overcook while he satisfied a far different hunger.
"Twelve?" Her gaze flicked to the chocolate bar again as he parted his lips for another bite.
"At least." He nodded. "I'm rather fond of the sweet."
"You're going to get fat," she muttered, her gaze flicking to his stomach.
Styx grinned. "Breeds have a very high metabolism, lass. It burns off near as fast as I eat it."
Yep, that was pure envy that lit her green eyes. She wanted the chocolate.
Stepping closer, he moved his hand to allow the chocolate to glance off her lips. The smear of the dark sweet was immediately collected by her little pink tongue.
"Do ye want a bit, lass?" he asked, teasing her again, brushing the soft chocolate against her lips once more. "I've no problem sharin' my chocolate wi' ya."
The soft scent of arousal peaked in her delicate body. Her tongue collected the taste before it seemed she had to force herself to step back from it.
"A minute on the lips, a lifetime on the hips," she sighed. "Normal people don't burn the fat that fast."
"Aye, being a Breed has its advantages, I must say, love." He finished off the treat before smacking his lips in pleasure. "Doesn't taste near as luscious as your sweet pussy, but it will do."
Her face flamed, though not in embarrassment. The flush raced up her neck and across her face as the heat in the soft flesh between her thighs intensified.
Damn, he'd love to stretch her across the kitchen table and lap at the honey of her heat. Doing so would ensure the pigs were tough, however. It was nearly time to take them out. He could smell the meat cooking and knew he hadn't much time before they would begin pulling it from the ground.
"What time do we head out?" Despite her attempt to appear nonchalant, he could sense the excitement beginning to rise within her.
Each evening he'd sensed her regret at not joining the activities. He'd been reluctant to force her, until tonight. Tonight, he wanted her to see the warmth, the affection and sense of family that existed at Haven. The mating anniversaries reflected that full sense of joy that radiated through the community with a mating. With the knowledge that Breeds were evolving despite man's determination to destroy them. That some higher force had deemed them worthy and granted them the ability to be loved, to have children, to survive.
"You know, Storme, you could eat the chocolate. You could be a part of Haven. And here, ye could have friends and family," he stated without answering her question. "I think ye know well now that what ye believed as a child wasn't the truth. That what the pure blood societies teach is a far cry from what the Breeds truly are."
She turned away from him, inhaling deeply, quietly, as he felt that regret rushing through her again.
"What I believe isn't what's important," she finally stated.
"Storme, is that information worth having the Council soldiers torture you for it if they catch you?" he asked. "It's information gained by the experimentation and torture of Breeds. Beyond the fact that this information could save Jonas's stepdaughter's life, aren't the Breeds more entitled to that research than the Council?"
Storme breathed in roughly.
"I don't deny the Breeds' right to the research," she finally whispered.
"Then why do ye hold back, lass?" She hated the sound of disappointment in his tone, the chastisement, as though he couldn't understand why she would be so cruel.
It wasn't cruelty. She wished it were something so simple as that, so simple as merely being a bitch, or wanting to make the Breeds pay for what had happened to her family.
"It's complicated," she finally whispered, before realizing that for first time in ten years, she had admitted to having the data chip.
She should have been surprised, but she wasn't. Lying to Styx wasn't something she could make herself do any longer. Looking into his clear blue eyes, seeing his appearance, at least, of attempting to give her time, attempting to save her from Breed Law and from Jonas.
"What's so complicated, lass?" he asked her gently. "Tell me what demons I must fight. Tell me, Storme, how to help ye make your decision."
She felt her lips tremble. The conflict inside her was tearing at her, confusing her. She hated feeling this way. Hated having her loyalties torn and divided.
"Conquer the past." She turned back to him, her chest aching as she felt a sizzle of some sensation race over her flesh. As though her body ached for his touch. "Bring my father and my brother back so they can release me from the promise I made."