“Eat me. Yes. I understand.”
“You don’t seem to be grasping the meaning behind the words. This isn’t a metaphor. I’m talking about huge teeth and digestive systems.”
“Fat and bones and marrow and meat,” Winter sang. “We only wanted a snack to eat.”
Scarlet grunted. “You can be so disturbing.”
Winter hooked her elbow with Scarlet’s. “Don’t be afraid. They will help us.”
Before Scarlet could mount another argument, a peculiar smell assaulted their senses, sharp and pungent. An animal smell, like in the menagerie, but different. Sweat and salt and body odor mingling in the cave’s stale air, along with something rank, like old meat.
“Well,” said Scarlet, “I think we found them.”
A chill crawled down Winter’s neck. Neither of them moved for a long while.
“If we can smell them,” said Scarlet, “they can smell us.”
Winter raised her chin. “I’ll understand if you leave. I can go on without you.”
Scarlet seemed to consider it, but then she shrugged. Her expression was reckless. “I’m beginning to think we’re all going to end up wolf food anyway by the time this is over.”
Facing her, Winter cupped Scarlet’s face in both hands. “It is not like you to talk like that.”
Scarlet clenched her jaw. “They took Wolf and they took Cinder, and as much as I want to see Levana ripped into tiny pieces and fed to her own mutants, I just don’t think we have a whole lot of hope without them.” She gulped, her resentment clouding over. “And I … I don’t want to see this place. He was trained here too, you know. I’m afraid to see what he came from, what he … who he was.”
“He is your Wolf now, and you are his alpha.”
Scarlet laughed. “According to Jacin, you need a pack to be an alpha.”
Jacin. The name brought sunshine and blood and kisses and growls rising to Winter’s skin. She gave it a moment to sink back toward her bones, before she tilted Scarlet’s head down and placed a kiss on the top of her flame-and-fury hair. “I will get you your pack.”
Fifty-Six
They hadn’t gone much farther before they detected noise rumbling through the caverns. Low and thunderous, like a distant train. They came to another fork in the tunnel, and while one path led into further darkness and rock and nothingness, the other ran into a set of iron doors. Hinged into the regolith walls, the doors looked ancient. Their sole ornamentation was a faded label painted on the lower corner of each door—STOREROOM 16, SECTOR LW-12.
A tiny screen had been embedded into the wall beside the doors. It was old and outdated and the text kept flickering. LUNAR REGIMENT 117, PACKS 1009–1020.
The ground and walls thrummed with activity beyond those doors—laughter and shouting and thumping footsteps. For the first time since she’d embarked on this quest, Winter felt a flutter of nervousness in her stomach.
Scarlet glanced at her. “It isn’t too late to go back.”
“I disagree.”
Sighing, Scarlet studied the screen. “Eleven packs, so around a hundred soldiers, give or take.”
Winter hummed, a sound without commitment. A hundred soldiers.
Animals, killers, predators, or so everyone claimed. Had she truly gone mad to think she could change them?
Her eyes began to mist, surprising her. She had not realized that thinking of her own imbalance would sadden her, but the feel of her ribs crushing against her heart was unmistakable.
“Why did you follow me?” she asked, staring at the solid doors. “Knowing what’s wrong with me. Knowing that I’m broken.”
Scarlet scoffed. “That is an excellent question.”
A loud thud was followed by hollers. The walls reverberated around them.
They had not been noticed. Scarlet was right. They could turn around and leave. Winter could admit she was delusional and no one should ever listen to her. She was adept only at making the wrong decisions.
“I couldn’t let you go on your own,” said Scarlet, most of the venom gone from her tone.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Call me crazy.”
Winter shut her eyes. “I won’t. You are not damaged like I am. You are not a hundred scattered pieces, blowing farther and farther away from each other.”
“How would you know?”
Listing her head, Winter dared to look up again.
Scarlet leaned against the regolith wall. “My father was a liar and a drunk. My mother left when I was a kid and never looked back. I witnessed a man kill my grandmother and then rip out her throat with his teeth. I was kept in a cage for six weeks. I was forced to cut off my own finger. I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with a guy who has been genetically modified and mentally programmed to be a predator. So all things considered, I’d say I have a fair amount of scattered pieces myself.”