Outpost

Fade hunched his shoulders, staring down at the ground between his knees. The grass was patchy, showing green and brown. Not that long ago, it had been covered with snow.



“I get the feeling you want to talk about something,” he prompted.



Yes. But I was no good at it. Action served me better than words, and I didn’t know how to express my dissatisfaction. I’d stumble and embarrass myself, but even so, that had to be better than endless distance. So I took a deep breath and shifted, angling my knees toward him. The movement set the swing to rocking gently. It was soothing in a way I couldn’t put my finger on, reducing my fear about how difficult this might prove.



“Are you still upset with me?”



“Why would I be?” He parried the question without answering it, and I couldn’t let that stand.



“You tell me.”



Fade gave a quiet sigh. “I just can’t be around you all the time. It’s too hard.”



“What is?” That made no sense.



“Seeing you with him.”



No question he meant Stalker, but I was only around him because Fade wasn’t talking to me. I’d seen a dog in town chasing its tail—and that was how I felt too.



“I don’t understand.”



Nothing much had changed since we arrived in Salvation, but Fade made excuses to avoid me. He chose to be with Tegan or strangers instead of me. I’d be lying if I claimed that didn’t hurt. After the past couple of months, I had a collection of inner scars to match the ones I’d earned on naming day, and then later, proving myself in battle. Each time he turned away from me at school, it cut a little deeper.



“You were mine before,” he said softly. “But somewhere along the way, I lost you. And now you’re his.”



That raised my ire, as precious little could have. “I wasn’t yours, and I’m not his, either. I’m a Huntress, Fade, not an old knife that can be traded.”



He had some crazy notions; that was for sure. But his expression lightened a little, an almost-smile playing at the corners of a mouth that I enjoyed looking at too much for my own peace of mind. The time in the sun had been good for him, bronzing his skin until it glowed, but he didn’t need to be more attractive. In fact, I resented him for it because his fierce beauty compelled my eyes in ways I didn’t like and couldn’t control.



“I know your title,” he said then. “You’ve made it clear that you live to fight.”



“Then what’s the problem?”



“I don’t like sharing.”



On some level, I understood that. Down below, resources had been limited, and when you earned your name, and they assigned you personal space, it felt like a miracle, having three feet that nobody else had any control over. Topside, we had more room, but conversely, I had less power. I owned nothing up here but my knives and my free will, since I’d given the club Stone made me to Tegan. That gave me a pang, as I doubted she valued it anymore, and it was my last piece of the big, sweet Breeder.



But I still felt Fade and I weren’t connecting on the right level. His meaning remained opaque, like a shape I could make out at the bottom of a murky river, only I didn’t know it was a monster until it lunged up at me. I had that same kind of uneasiness right then; I hated feeling stupid.



“Sharing … what?”



I remembered Stalker saying he thought I wanted him to touch me—and that was why he’d spent so much time training with me. I’d put that to rest, hadn’t I? Did Fade think I wanted Stalker’s hands on me too? If so, I couldn’t imagine how the opposite gender managed to get out of bed in the morning. They might be lovely to look at, but clear thinking wasn’t their strong point. Once more, I’d strive to make it clear only Fade had that kind of magic.



He frowned, like he suspected me of being difficult on purpose. “You.”



“He’s not my partner.” This time, I used the word Fade had once before, meaning something different and deeper than just the person who guarded your back in a fight. It had an emotional context too, something I couldn’t spell out, but knew deep within my bones instead.



“You’re … not with him?” His hesitation irritated me, as I’d never once lied to him. When we were stranded in the wilderness and I was dreaming of Silk, who told me to keep the fire burning, I didn’t tell Fade why because he’d have thought I was crazy, but I never lied.



“We’re friends.”



“He doesn’t kiss you?”



Just one time in the woods when he caught me by surprise. Since then, I’d gotten better at heading Stalker off, forcing him to train with me and nothing else. His kiss hadn’t melted me like Fade’s did, either. Part of me wished they’d both stop with the Breeder nonsense and focus on more important business, but the rest of me wanted to be close to Fade. His arm felt good around my shoulders, as I recalled.



Before I could answer, he cupped my cheek in his palm, dark eyes searching mine. Apparently satisfied by what he saw, he leaned his brow against my head. My heart gave a treacherous thump at his nearness. It was late afternoon, sunny and bright, which meant anyone could happen on us. Though the rules weren’t strict here, I might get in trouble for sitting so close and letting him touch me, but I didn’t care.



“I missed you.” I didn’t mean to tell him so, even if it was true. Admitting need felt like weakness; it demonstrated dependence and vulnerability.



But when he lifted his head, his dark eyes shone brighter than I’d ever seen, like he held stars inside. “It’s been awful without you, but I thought you chose him. I was determined to respect your decision.”



“He’s a friend,” I said again. “But he’s not you.”



“Here, it’s not like it was down below,” he murmured. “There’s no shame.”



“In what?”



“This.”



His kiss didn’t surprise me. My response did. Delight surged from the moment his lips touched mine, and I pressed close, wanting to crawl out of my skin and into his. Fade wrapped his arms around me as if he felt the same, his whole body trembling. Such strong feelings terrified and elated me simultaneously. These sensations were the reason for the noises I’d heard down in the enclave, Breeders huffing and moaning as they made a new life. Before, I always imagined it was an unpleasant chore, like patrolling the back ways, and you put up with the process in order to achieve the desired result. Now, I wasn’t so sure.



When I pulled free, my heart beat furiously in my ears and I couldn’t catch my breath. Wonderingly, I touched my fingers to my lips.



I breathed, “That’s dangerous. How long have you known?”



“Known what?”



“That it could be so … so…” Words failed me.



“Good?” he suggested, but it was a pale description. Yet I lacked a better one, so I just nodded, and he replied, “Since the first time I kissed you.”



I remembered the occasion vividly; I’d towed him out of the throng after he won the festival challenge—to keep him from losing control and attacking the congratulatory crowd. Afterward, he caught his breath while I watched over him.



“I never had a partner pay this much attention to me before.”



That made me feel I’d overstepped. He’d had two before me, so he knew better than I did what constituted normal behavior. Maybe I watched him too closely. It was unsuitable, and Silk would demote me to Breeder if she ever found out.



“I should get back,” I muttered.



“Not yet.” In an unspeakable liberty, he snatched the tie from my hair, so it spilled around my face.



“Why did you do that?” My breath caught when he brushed the strands around my face just so. Touching me. We were on shaky ground here. If someone saw us—



“I wanted to see what you’d look like.”



Back off, I told myself. Walk away now. Instead I froze, gazing up into his impossibly dark eyes.



He bent his head and brushed my lips with his. His hair spilled against my forehead, sleek and startling. Shock held me immobile, shock—and something else. Part of me wanted to lean into him. I shouldn’t want that. A Huntress wouldn’t. Shame, confusion, and longing warred for dominance. Against my better judgment, I let my brow graze his jaw, just a whisper of heat, wrapped around me like a pair of arms. And then I drew back.



Even then, he had opened forbidden doors in my head, making me want things no Huntress could ever have. But Fade intrigued me with the reply, and I had to ask, “So you felt … glowy about me, even then?”



“‘Glowy.’” He repeated the word with an amusement that I should have found embarrassing. “That works. And yes. I have for the longest time.”



His surety summoned such warmth, as if I’d kindled a campfire in my belly, bright enough to banish the long weeks of doubt and confusion. He laced his fingers through mine and settled our joined hands on his knee, but he didn’t attempt anything more. Just as well. I wasn’t ready; but no wonder Momma Oaks was concerned. If all the girls Topside knew this about kissing, they probably had to worry about new brats popping up all over the place.



“It’s normal to enjoy being close,” I said, trying the idea out.



“I think so. Not that I’m an expert. I don’t feel this way about everyone.”



My brows went down. “I should hope not.”



This, I thought. He was afraid I had this with Stalker. I was just figuring out this was what the other boy wanted from me, only of my own free will. Not as a nasty chore forced on me. I had no doubt he’d bred to keep the Wolf population up, but it couldn’t have felt like this.



“I don’t want this to be a secret thing,” he said then. “People should know.”



“What?”



“That you’re mine.”



I bristled a little at hearing it phrased that way. “Fade. This doesn’t change anything. I still belong to myself, and while I choose to share this with you, it doesn’t mean you own me.”



“I’m not saying I do.” His voice rang with frustration, like there was some crucial, hidden component between us I couldn’t grasp.



“What are you saying, then?” I bet the girls at school with ribbons in their hair didn’t struggle with such confusion.



“That I have the right to kiss you … and nobody else does.”



Finally. I could agree to that. It would mean making my new status clear to Stalker, which might not go well. In hindsight, I felt pretty sure he wanted those rights himself. I’d feared Fade preferred Tegan, but maybe he’d sought her company because she was a familiar face, much the way I’d gone with Stalker. Everything seemed much more complicated now.



It also brought to mind a question. “When you asked if I would still choose you as my partner, is this what you wanted? Exclusive kissing rights?”



He ducked his head, a touch of color on his cheeks. “Yes.”



“Then why didn’t you just say so?”



“I was afraid you’d say no.”