Unconditional Dominance

Bread

Keeley's P.O.V.

My eyes opened to soft morning light filtering in through the flap of the tent, and Dawson, crouched in front of me, his fingers working on the knots around my wrists. The smell of gunpowder was gone from the air, and a light patter of rain pelted at the tent.

"We're packing up," he said, his voice clear, his face clean shaven, and his clothes changed from the night before–suggesting he had been up for a while.

Blinking awake, I slowly sat up, just as he straightened and took a step back. He folded the rope neatly before putting it in a forest green duffel bag that matched the color of his pants. I took a moment to rub my eyes while his words sank in, then I dropped my hand to my lap and shook my head at him.

"I'm not going with you."

"Oh, yes, you are."

"No, I'm not," I argued, but he was turning his back, packing things away, and paying zero attention to me. "You can't take me away from my home!"

"When I'm done with you, I'll drop you right back where I found you," he replied with an exasperated sigh.

"Like you could find your way back," I taunted. "This mountain range goes on for hundreds of miles. You'll never see the same place twice."

"For your sake, I hope you're wrong."

"I'm not willing to take that risk!"

"Well, I am, Princess, and that's the last I want to hear about it."

He stood firm in his decision without raising his emotions, and it absolutely frustrated me. How could someone be so resolute all the time?

Grinding my teeth together, I tossed the blanket from my legs and stood up with a temper that I was hoping would change his mind. But before I could begin my rampage, he stepped forward until only an inch or two separated us.

"Your clan did not survive the attack last night. You don't have a home to return to."

He was lying. I didn't see Liam amongst the dead in the field last night, which meant he had gotten away. But Dawson didn't want me to know that. He wanted to trick me into believing that I had nothing to return to, therefore I might as well go with him where I will at least have food and shelter.

But I wasn't stupid, and I refused to fall for it.

"You're lying," I told him bravely. "I know some of my people escaped last night, and they're out there waiting for me."

"They're out there dying from infection or blood loss, and that's only if they survived the night," he argued, and I almost believed him. He delivered everything with such certainty that it was difficult to separate the lies from the truths. Then his eyes softened and he shook his head regretfully. "I'm sorry, Keeley. It was never my intention to hurt your people."

Swallowing back tears, I tried to calm the wild hammering of my heart.

"No," I whispered hatefully, my neck craned so that I could glare miserably at his stupid face. "You're lying."

Again, he shook his head. Only this time he didn't say anything. The regret he displayed scared me. He meant it. He had truly annihilated my clan.

Heartbreak, regret, despair, and rage whirled through me in a storm of emotions. Liam was a jerk who treated me poorly. He didn't value my opinion. He reminded me often how useless I was. But... he wasn't supposed to die.

Overwhelmed with feeling, I lifted my hands and shoved them into Dawson's chest. He stumbled back just enough for me to step around his body and exit the tent. I stormed towards the directions of the trees, my hands balled in fists at my sides, my feet stomping into the damp grass.