“This is a nice surprise.” I hadn’t known there was anyplace we could escape to, here.
“It’s not the same,” he said.
I knew what he meant. The first night we stayed together, there had been candles and kissing, whispered words and inexpressible sweetness.
“There’s only one way to find out.”
Holding his gaze with mine, I waited until he offered permission in the form of a quick nod. Then I touched his cheek with gentle fingertips, tracing over to his temple. I feathered my hand into his hair. His breath caught, but I didn’t think it was because I was hurting or scaring him. Still, I paused to make sure he was still with me. His eyes were dark and hot, half lidded.
“More,” he whispered.
I obliged. Shaping his head with my fingertips, I petted him as I had done the night he slept with his head in my lap. And by his expression, he remembered. Maybe I could help by reminding him of all the good feelings that came along with being touched. I was slow and gentle, no sudden movements, and when I grazed the nape of his neck with my nails, he actually shivered. Fade leaned closer, then wrapped his arms around me. He didn’t seem to be thinking at all anymore, his face soft and dreamy.
When he kissed the side of my throat, I bit my lip. It felt surprisingly good. He followed with more kisses just beneath my jaw. His skin rasped slightly against mine, reminding me that he was a man, not a boy, and he’d shaved off the scruffy beard grown over weeks in the wild. My heartbeat quickened as his mouth grew more heated, and he hadn’t even touched my lips. He was breathing fast when he put a hand on my shoulder. He urged me back on the sofa, and I let him because I had the odd desire for him to cover me like a blanket. Fade made a satisfied sound as he lay down, and then he kissed me.
My eyes closed. The feeling exploded like embers of the fire, kindling into a full burn. It was a summer sky of a kiss, breathless and endlessly blue, full of berry sweetness and sunshine. That long, luxuriant tasting turned into smaller kisses, our lips touching again and again, until we were both shivering, despite the warmth of the room. Fade drew back and framed my face in his palms; I could see powerful emotion working in his eyes.
“I was afraid,” he whispered. “But I was wrong to be. This … this is still perfect, even if I’m not.”
“I’m not, either,” I whispered.
I moved beneath him and his expression grew pained. He pushed back before he could help himself, teasing us both. In that moment, I’d have given him anything.
“This is…” He trailed off as I settled beneath him, finding the right fit.
“We could.” I knew exactly what I was suggesting.
“Not here, with no guarantee of privacy. It should be special.”
Fade shifted then, drawing me into his arms. We twined like tree and vine, his legs tangled with mine, and I lay so I could feel the warmth of the fire on my back. I kissed his neck.
“I love you.” His voice came low and rough.
“I love you too.” My response was smooth and easy, as if I had been waiting my whole life to offer him those words. No doubts, no hesitations. This feeling was woven through me until it seemed like it would kill me to root it out.
“Thanks for not giving up on me.”
“Have you ever known me to walk away from a fight?” I cocked a brow in challenge.
Fade laughed softly. “Never.”
“We should get back before someone catches us … or Momma Oaks notices we’re gone.”
With a groan, he let go of me. I took that for agreement. As we slipped out of the officers’ club, the night was still quiet with the moon reflecting off the new fallen snow. Our tracks had been covered so we made new ones back to the barracks.
But Fade left me there with a rueful shake of his head. “I can’t come to bed yet. I’m going for a run.”
I blushed because I understood why. So I slid into bed, but not before Momma Oaks raised up on an elbow and fixed me with a sleepy, pointed look. It said, You haven’t gotten away with anything. For some reason, I wanted to laugh, but that would wake Edmund and Rex, so I just rolled into my blankets. I barely stirred when Fade got into the bunk above mine.
And in the morning, everything was different.
I didn’t understand the shift at first, but soldiers I didn’t know greeted me by name. A few stopped me to ask about the Freak fang necklaces my men wore, and a sentry called down from the tower, “Let’s hear it for Company D!”
In the mess, I found my men all sitting together, including Stalker’s scouts. They waved me over to join them. I brought my food, surprised by their camaraderie. Both success and failure created bonds, I supposed, and we’d seen our share of each while we traveled.
“Does anyone know why we’re getting VIP treatment?” Tully wanted to know.
“What’s a VIP?” I was glad Stalker asked, because I didn’t know, either.
“Very important person.” Morrow grinned. “I might’ve had something to do with that. Between my account of the treaty and the talking Freak, they think we can move mountains.”
“Deuce especially,” Spence noted.
I mumbled a curse. “What did you tell them?”
“So what’s the plan for the spring campaign?” Thornton interrupted, changing the subject.
They took it for granted we’d be going out again—that we wouldn’t rest on our laurels once the cold weather passed. In all honesty, I had no grand scheme, but I didn’t care to disappoint them. So I considered while I ate my breakfast, listening to them swap jests. Fade sat beside me, quiet, but not in a sad or brooding way, more quietly watchful, the way he’d been before the Freaks took him.
“Scouting first,” I said in the first lull. “After the thaw. To plan, I need intel on how much of the horde survived the winter. Fortunately, the Muties aren’t as good at strategy yet.”
“Yet,” Tully muttered.
I nodded at her. “Who knows how fast they’ll catch on? Once we know how many are left and where they’re headed, we can decide what to do.”
Nobody laughed or said that twelve soldiers couldn’t make a difference. We already had.
“You know my favorite part of this?” Spence grinned as he asked the question.
I shook my head. “What?”
“We’re all off the regular duty rosters. That means no midnight watches, no patrols outside the fence, no cooking, cleaning the bathhouse, or working in the animal sheds.”
Thornton smirked. “That is a boon. I can’t remember the last time I had an easy winter.”
“If anyone complains,” Morrow put in, “tell them you’re part of Company D.”
I glanced at Tegan, who shook her head. “I heard it, but I don’t know what it means.”
“It’s our squad name,” Morrow said.
“Who came up with it?” Stalker asked.
The storyteller’s expression grew crafty. “The men who want to join up. I’ve been spreading the word about our success, and they decided the squad should be named after Deuce.”
I suspected there might be more to say, but he didn’t, and I was too delighted at learning we had more potential recruits to pursue the matter. That day, ten men approached me quietly and asked whether I’d consider letting them volunteer when we marched out for the second time, Harry Carter among them. He’d wanted to come before, but he wasn’t strong enough. Whether it was the first taste of success or the idea of getting off the duty roster, I wasn’t sure, but I told all of them that they were welcome. The following night, I spoke to five more.
A week later, Zach Bigwater approached me. He was the only member of his family to survive the fire, and for a while, I didn’t know whether he’d make it. For weeks, he didn’t speak and it was a chore for Tegan to get him to eat. But he came to me that afternoon.