Page 29 of Vicious Luna
I stare back at him, my brows furrowing in question. “Why?”
Cam raises his beer bottle to his lips, taking a long swig before answering me, and I can’t help but stare at the way his lips curve as they wrap around the rim. Or the way he licks them after he swallows. “Because I’m your handler,” he finally says, dropping his empty beer bottle into the cardboard sleeve and pulling out a fresh one.Dang, he drank that fast.“Griff went against protocol by coming down here without my permission.”
Of course. Not like he’d defend my honor or anything. The guy is no white knight; he’s the villain in my story.
I just nod, casually sipping at my beer as he cracks the top on his second one. The split in my lip stings as I wipe my mouth off on my wrist, squinting at him through the darkness and trying to decipher the strange mix of emotions that always seems to be brewing behind his eyes.
What is it that he’s constantly trying to drink away?
I lower my bottle to rest in the crook of my knee, running my tongue over my split lip absently as I study his ghoulish features in the dark. “Why did he call you Knox? I thought your name was Cam?”
“It’s my last name,” he replies. “All of us mostly go by our last names.”
“How militaristic,” I mutter.
“That’s kinda the point.” He frowns as he raises his beer to his lips again, taking a pull.
For a second, I feel a little sad for him. He’s clearly going through something, and rather than talking it out with afriend, he’s down here with me. Maybe he doesn’t have friends here to talk to. But then I remember that he’s literally got me behind bars right now, and any feelings of sympathy evaporate.
Stick to the plan, Avery.
“Wanna play a game?” I ask, cocking my head and smiling faintly.
He just stares back at me, deadpan, so I decide to take that as a yes.
“If you rubbed that bottle and a genie popped out to grant you three wishes, what would they be?” I ask, pointing to his beer.
Cam snorts a laugh, shaking his head. “Wishes are for fools.”
“Fine, I’ll go first,” I announce, holding up a hand to tick my wishes off on my fingers as I go. “First, I’d wish my way out of this cell, then I’d wish for all the hunters to be killed,” I remark, giving him a pointed look as I lower two of my fingers. “And last…” I chew my lip, glancing up at the ceiling in contemplation. “I’d want an endless supply of brushes and hair ties.”
He scrunches up his nose. “Kinda lame for your third one.”
“It doesn’t bother you that I’d wish for your murder?” I ask sweetly, batting my lashes.
“Nah, my first wish would be eradicating all werewolves,” he replies. Lifting his beer, he takes another hefty swig from the bottle.
“And your other two?” I urge, eager for a peek into that pitch-black psyche of his.
His Adam’s apple bobs with a harsh swallow before he shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter.”
“You’re no fun,” I pout.
“Funis a luxury I can’t afford.”
“How sad for you.”
“And yet you’re the one in a cage.” He points the tip of hisbottle in my direction, arching a brow, and I fight back a cringe at the reminder, suddenly no longer in the mood for games.
Shuffling backwards on the cot to lean against the wall, I heave a sigh, dropping my gaze to my lap and tracking a bead of condensation as it slips down the neck of the beer bottle.
“So why don’t you have a mark?” Cam asks gruffly.
I glance back up at him. “Huh?”
“If the Alpha is your mate, why don’t you have a mark?” he clarifies, raking his gaze over my form like he’s trying to find a mark and spot my lie. “You said werewolves mark their mates.”
“Because I’m not mated, moron,” I reply with an exaggerated eyeroll. “The Alpha you saw me with? He’s mybrother.”