Resist (The Harvest Saga Book 2) by Casey L. Bond Page A

stubble on his chin scraped my forehead.
    I giggled. There was no way to jerk away from him without hurting him and it was actually sweet. This big, tough guard liked to cuddle.
    He opened his eyes, blinked a few times, and looked down at me, almost startled. “Sorry.”
    I laughed. “It’s fine. We kept warm.”
    He let me raise up and then groaned, “It’s still freezing.”
    “Big baby.”
    He chuckled and coughed, clutching his abdomen.
    I winced when I saw how much even laughing hurt him. “Sorry.” I felt bad for teasing him, but given the situation, what else could we do?
    We cuddled back together to keep warm until the sun warmed the room for us. Later, two guards brought lunch, which consisted of another loaf of bread and what looked like left over ham from the wedding feast. They slipped the food and two jars of water through the bars of the door and left, but not before glaring at Gray.
    When they were gone, I grabbed the food and divided it between us. “It’s not much. I know you’re used to more, so I’ll give you the biggest pieces.”
    He shook his head. “No. You need it. Trust me. Divide it evenly.”
    “Gray, you need to heal.”
    “I am. Greaters heal much faster than Lessers for some reason.”
    I ticked my head at him. “With medicine, yes. Without it? I don’t think so.”
    “I’m fine. I feel much better than yesterday.”
    Hands on my hips, I said, “You’re wheezing and can barely walk.”
    He laughed. “But I can walk without you as my crutch today.” A self-satisfied grin stretched across his lips.
    “Yeah, yeah. Small victories, big guy.”
    I tried to take time chewing every bit of food as best I could, savoring it. Who knew what they would bring us next or what it might be. Left overs were only edible for so long.
    Gray took a swig of water from his jar. “You okay?”
    I pointed at my chest. “Me?”
    “Yeah.”
    “I’m fine.”
    “You’re not.”
    “I am.”
    Gray looked at me. “You’re not. You went through a lot yesterday.”
    I nodded. “But, I’m okay.”
    “Whatever.”
    “Whatever, Gray. What do you want? Want me to say that my heart is broken? It is. Want me to say that it sucks being in here? It does. Want me to say how damn bad I feel that they beat you? I do. I hate it. I hate it all. I just...there’s nothing I can do about it. Nothing. That’s what sucks.”
    “He shouldn’t have done it.”
    “What?” I looked up from the pulled apart piece of ham in my hand.
    “He shouldn’t have married that girl.”
    I closed my eyes and released a breath. Tears made their appearance, beginning to gather and well up in my eyes.
    “Not if he loved you. I don’t care what his reason was, Abby. Even if he thought he was ultimately helping you. He shouldn’t have done it.”
    “I know.”
    I hated tears. They showed weakness, vulnerability. But sometimes, that weakness had to escape. And so it did.
    Gray pulled me into his shoulder and let me cry.
    When I finally pulled myself together, I sat back and took a drink of water. “Thanks.”
    He ticked his head.
    “Any strokes of profound wisdom you’d like to impart about love?” I tried to laugh, remembering his statement about the non-existent present.
    “Yeah. Love doesn’t betray.”
    I nodded. “Yep.”

     
     
     
     
    My father sat in the box, raised high in the air above the citizens of Olympus. The amphitheater was filled to the brim. Almost everyone attended public executions. It was a sickening spectacle, made even more disgusting by the curiosity and blood thirst of the citizens themselves. Some even brought their children, picnic lunches, and made a sick sort of family outing of it all. I sat to my father’s right and Marian sat to the right of me. My mother had taken ill and was not present.
    Looking at the small golden tiara adorning Marian’s head, I was suddenly thankful and sorry at the same time. I was sorry that she had to see all of this. Sorry that she had stepped into