Page 151 of Rogue & Her Hunters
I need to be certain that Phantom is as into this pack as the rest of us are, before I risk everything for it.
I shiver at the chill in the air.
It is snowing more heavily today. I am dressed in a warm steel blue sweater and pants that are a close enough match for my eyes to prove how fanatically Phantom observes me.
Joker has boasted that his Alpha is a brilliant artist.
This morning, when we were working out together in the gym, Joker told me, “Skipper never wanted to become a soldier. Never judge an ex-SEAL by their cover, yeah? When we werekids, I was the jock. It’s why I was bought as a Companion to push Phantom away from art and train him into swimming and track. He must have known that his Chief Alpha would force him to follow the family tradition and join the military. It broke part of him, however, when he had such a talent as a painter. But his family already thought that he was broken because of…”
“His approach to ruts and then becoming non-speaking…?”
Joker’s eyes flashed with fury. “His dad gave him an ultimatum: Join the SEALs with me, or I’d be sold to someone else, while he’d be sent to the Alpha Center to befixed.”
Horrified, I stared at Joker. “But he was the son of elites.”
“Aren’t you the daughter of elites? Phantom and I made our own family together, however, and now, his art belongs to him alone. He paints and then, when we need to move on, he burns what he’s created.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Is it? Creativity is part of our souls. Even if no one sees his paintings but him…even if they only exist for the moment that his brush meets the canvas…they’ve meant more than a billion plagiarized slop creations spat out by computers. They have eased his demons more than I can ease mine. I pretend that I can fuck mine out of me. But that’s a lie. I guess we both know that about ourselves, right?”
Uncomfortable, I tighten my hold on the hot mug.
Joker may not be able to quieten the ghosts of his past through his frequent fucking, although I know that the moment we had together in the pool last night led to a type of serenity that I’ve never felt, but knowing that Phantom bonded his Beta because he wanted to and not out of duty may help.
I need the same reassurance.
Has Phantom offered to become our Chief Alpha as a way to keep me here as a willing prisoner? Because we are key to his mission to free Joker’s sister?
Or is he truly obsessed with me?
I have never had another Alpha, apart from my brother, respect me. I don’t know how to feel about it.
I appreciate it that Phantom hasn’t ordered me around or put demands on me.
His presence has been supportive, rather than controlling.
He is everything that I didn’t know I was looking for in a Chief Alpha.
Before I allow myself to trust, however, I must be certain.
I knock the door with my elbow.
That’s polite, right?
Then I boot the door open and push into the art room.
“I have tea.” I lift the mug.
Phantom raises his head from behind the easel at the far side of the room beside the broad window.
He arches his brow like he doesn’t believe my bullshit excuse.
I can’t see the mounted canvas that Phantom is working on. Muted gray light slants in through the glass, which is flecked with paint, across Phantom and the easel.
Phantom is dressed in a simple, long-sleeved black t-shirt and fatigues with chains looped at the pockets. His sling has been inked with cute kittens, which Bird drew on as revenge for me, while Phantom was sleeping.
I am almost certain that Phantom was only pretending to be sleeping.
