The Marriage Game

In Which Unborn Chicken Babies Are Consumed

"Camila, can you hear me?" Someone shook her by the shoulder. The voice sounded distant, like screaming underwater.

"Camila, I need you to answer me. Camila?" Her body felt heavy. Like steel or bricks, but with a limp flexibility. Her lungs burned for air.

"Fuck it. I'm calling Anders."

Her chest shook when she inhaled, a single, shutting breath that rattled her ribcage. The second breath was easier.

"Camila." Someone took her hand, cradling it as if she was made of glass. "Can you hear me?"

Camila nodded. She cracked open an eye.

Declan crouched beside her, her hand cradled against his bare chest. He looked like he'd just woken up, his hair shooting in every direction, clad only in a pair of simple sweatpants. "You're okay," he breathed.

"I think so." Her voice sounded soft, almost weak. She made a conscious effort to steady it. "What happened?"

"I- I don't know. I woke up and you were-" His voice broke. "You were under some kind of spell. You weren't breathing and your eyes were open and just- they were empty, it was..." He trailed off.

Declan tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His eyes burned into her, as if he was scared to look away for even a moment. Then, with a sudden ferocity, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his head into her neck.

Should she move? Try to get away? His arms were strong as iron, corded with muscle, and he held her like his life depended on it.

He was close, shirtless, and her blood burned with need. Camila pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder.

She instantly regretted it.

Declan held her tighter, pulling her closer if that was possible. She was suddenly very aware of her missing bra.

Camila cleared her throat. "...You can let go now."

"Oh. Right." He released her, moving down to the other end of the bed. "Sorry."

"No, it's- It's no problem."

Declan stood. He looked over at her, opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it. "...I'm going to make eggs. Does that sound okay?"

"That sounds perfect. Thank you," Camila murmured, guilt sinking into her stomach.

Today was the day. By the end of the night, assuming all went well, Camila would be free and clear to chase after the Heart of Catalina with Alex by her side. With Dragomir's threat on her parent's lives, she needed to escape Declan's control as soon as possible.

She just hadn't expected to feel so, well, guilty about it.

Camila tried to remind herself who Declan was: dangerous, murderous, with a radical political agenda she couldn't support. But mostly, she remembered his arms wrapped tight around her.

I'm going to do better.

She remembered his voice, deep and rough, and the look in his eyes, set with an unusual intensity. Was it cruel to never let him try? He'd been so sincere, convinced that they could make a relationship work. Should she have given him the benefit of the doubt?

Camila pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed. She couldn't afford to take risks. She couldn't afford to offer him yet another second chance.

The digital alarm clock beeped at her. It was ten o'clock. Only two more hours before Alex got here.

"I'm seventy percent sure these are edible?" Declan set a plate in front of her, a pale yellow lump congealing on the white china. "You might want to let me try it first."