The Benefactor

by Dylan Steel

  “I wasn’t sure how much you remembered,” he said, a strange expression flashing over his face so quickly that she couldn’t identify it. “I thought it might be easier for you if I didn’t lead with a full introduction. Meeting a benefactor can be a little overwhelming for most people at first, and you’ve been through quite a lot in the past twenty-four hours. And people tend to be more honest before they realize who I am.”

  Easier? She stared back at him blankly. Why in Eprah’s name would he care what was easier for her? He was a benefactor. And not just any benefactor—he was the most powerful benefactor in Eprah, probably with as much influence as any one member of the Quorum. Compared to him, she was nothing.

  He’d saved her, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.

  “So.” He rubbed his knuckles under his chin. “Now that we’ve established who I am and that I make you nervous, can we discuss whether or not you’re really ready to travel? I’ve already been in the city longer than I intended. I need to get back to my estate.”

  Sage fought to remain calm. What happened next could determine how much longer she’d live.

  “You don’t have to take me with you. I’ll be fine. Can go back to work tomorrow,” she said, hiding how much it still hurt to talk.

  For a moment, Weston stood as still as a statue, his expression completely unreadable. “After what happened last night, it won’t be safe for you to continue working at the Peace. The other officers will hold a grudge.”

  “But it—that wasn’t my fault,” she protested. “They’ll understand.”

  “Fault won’t matter to them. Only blame.”

  “I have friends there,” she said, her mind jumping to Boulder. He wasn’t just a low-level officer—he was in charge of interrogations. He’d already stepped up to protect her before, and he still would—as long as he didn’t realize she’d stolen the bracelet removal device from his office. “They’ll protect me. They won’t—”

  “I didn’t see your friends last night,” he said coolly. “And no one can offer you the same level of protection I can.”

  “Please,” she said quietly, her hope dissolving along with her arguments. “You don’t need me.”

  His arctic eyes cut straight to her soul. “Sage, this isn’t a discussion. I’ve already petitioned the Quorum. We’ve been paired.”

  Paired?

  All the blood drained from her face. Without thinking, she took a step back, bumping into the bed. The room started spinning as her worst nightmares became reality.

  “But—I’m already paired to someone,” she said, still desperate for a way out. He didn’t need to know her pair was dead. If Weston took her to his estate—if he tethered her—she might never get free.

  Something like frustration flashed over Weston’s face, and she closed her mouth before she said anything else to upset him.

  “Your pair is dead.” He shot her a disapproving look, catching her white lie and snuffing out the last bit of hope she was clinging to. “Not that it would matter to the Quorum. They wouldn’t deny me a pairing.”

  “But graduation was months ago,” she protested weakly.

  “You’ve already achieved a pregnancy, so the usual pairing duties won’t apply,” he continued, ignoring her, “but it’s still the simplest way for you to join my estate. And fastest. Requesting a transfer of assignment can take up to a month, and the delay wouldn’t alter the Quorum’s decision. The Quorum has no interest in controlling my day to day operations, nor do they care about the specific jobs I delegate to the members of my estate. As long as things run smoothly, there’s very little reason for them to become involved at all.”

  Sage stared back at him in stunned silence, wondering which pairing duties he thought they should fulfill. Maybe none of them—maybe he’d just have her working in the fields or making his meals—maybe it would all be ok. After all, he didn’t know she wasn’t pregnant anymore. And she wasn’t about to correct him.

  “What… job did you have in mind for me?” she managed, rubbing the base of her throat gingerly as she spoke.

  “You don’t need to worry about that just yet.” The corners of his lips lifted into a small smile, but she didn’t find any reassurance in it.

  “I’m not worried.” Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. The movement didn’t escape his notice.

  “Sage, have I done anything to hurt you?”

  Besides stealing my last chance at freedom? She pressed her lips together tightly, not answering.

  He sighed. “I don’t need you to like me. But you are going to come with me. And it would be more pleasant for both of us if you decided to trust me.”

  She stared back at him coldly. “Your family hasn’t exactly earned that.”

  Her words were met with silence. The only sign he’d heard her was the muscle that jerked along the edge of his sharp jaw, and even that was nearly hidden by a light layer of stubble. Her heart sped up, beating harder against her ribs. She should know better than to provoke him, but whether it was the grief or the trauma or the knowledge that she genuinely had nothing left to lose, she seemed unable to control herself.

  “I haven’t lied to you,” he finally said quietly, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

  Her mouth fell open. What nerve. She crossed her arms. “Well, you certainly didn’t tell me the truth, Mr. Bennick.”

  “And you neglected to mention that your previous pairing was dissolved.”

  Grief stabbed through her, and she grabbed the edge of the bed again, fighting to remain upright.

  Weston took a step closer, pinning her with his gaze. “Try to stand on the moral high ground if you like, Sage. But don’t be surprised if it’s not as far above everyone else as you expected.”

  Breaking eye contact, he headed to the door and motioned for her to follow. “It’s time to leave.”

  3. HOME

  He may have saved her life, but she hated him.

  At least, that’s what she kept telling herself as she approached the horse again, stepping gingerly. After all, he was the one putting her through this torture.

  “You’re doing better than I would’ve expected for your first long ride,” Weston said as he untied the horses’ reins from a nearby branch.

  Sage snorted as she watched him mount his horse effortlessly. “Right,” she muttered under her breath.

  Dark clouds threatened on the horizon. She hoped they wouldn’t have to ride in the rain.

  They’d already had to stop twice just for her to dismount and stretch her legs. She eyed the side of her beast warily. Getting up on its back wasn’t getting easier. If anything, it was getting harder. She was tired. Sore. And that had been true before she’d been riding for hours.

  Now that they were outside of the city, escape had definitely crossed her mind. But there was no point in running, not on foot or on horseback. Weston was a better rider by far, and he’d catch her in no time. Besides, she still didn’t know if he’d tethered her. She wanted to ask, but she was still trying to figure out a way of doing so without actually reminding him that he had the option to do so.

  For now, she needed to assume the worst. Not like it was hard.

  Gripping her saddle, she grunted as she tried to pull herself up again. Her arms shook with the effort, giving out before she was more than halfway up. She stumbled back a few steps, barely catching her balance.

  “Try again.”

  Sage jumped at the nearness of his voice, spinning around. She hadn’t realized Weston had dismounted, let alone that he was standing right behind her. Tilting her neck up to meet his eyes, she could’ve sworn she saw a hint of amusement there. She dropped her gaze quickly to hide her growing frustration.

  “Again,” he repeated, settling his hands on her waist. His touch sent shivers through her core, but before she could pull away, he’d twisted her back around so that she was facing the horse instead of him.

  Exhausted or not, she wasn’t being given a choice. She blew out a shaky b
reath and grabbed the saddle, inwardly cursing her new benefactor.

  As soon as she put some weight in the stirrup, Weston gripped her waist more firmly, lifting her into the air. The unexpected boost sent her stomach tumbling to the ground, and she barely managed to get over the shock in time to swing her leg over the horse.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled, knuckles turning white on the horn as she shifted in her seat.

  “Of course,” he said, already settling back on his own horse. He coaxed both animals forward so that they were riding side by side. “I know you’re tired, but it’s not much farther.”

  “I know.”

  Surprise flashed across his face as he looked over at her.

  She shrugged. “I remember.”

  His eyebrow jerked up. “From your kidnapping? How?”

  Sage’s face flushed. He was obviously more comfortable talking about that than she was.

  “No,” she said quickly. “I’ve been there two other times on trips with the Institution.”

  “Ah, of course.” His lips thinned into a hard line. “I’d almost forgotten about those.”

  “Forgotten?” She frowned. “I never saw you there. How would you know I—”

  “It’s safe to assume that I know everything that goes on at my estate,” he said calmly, looking straight ahead.

  Unease spread through Sage’s belly. That sounded more like a warning than an explanation. Swallowing hard, she focused on the horse’s mane directly in front of her. Better than looking him in the eye when she wasn’t sure what she’d see there.

  Weston was a puzzle to her. One minute he was warm and reassuring, promising to protect her, and the next he was cold and distant, throwing around commands and practically daring her to defy his authority. In a way, she supposed it made sense. As a doctor, he helped people. And as a benefactor, he crushed them.

  If she wanted to survive, she needed to understand him. She needed to figure out which man she was dealing with. Only then could she find a way to free herself from his hold.

  “Keep up, Sage.”

  Her eyes snapped forward, and she realized Weston had slowed and was waiting for her a little ways ahead. She’d been so consumed with her own thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed she’d fallen behind. Digging in her heels, she coaxed the horse forward until she’d caught up with him.

  “I sent Martha ahead to get your room ready. It hasn’t been used for quite awhile.”

  “My room?” Her eyes widened. Was she going to be stuck in the same room again? Hidden underground until he decided she wasn’t worth his time anymore? Her breathing quickened. Tethered or not, she’d run before that happened.

  “What, were you expecting to sleep outside?”

  “Well, no, but I—” She stopped herself when she saw amusement dancing behind his eyes. He was making fun of her. She wasn’t imagining it. “I just meant I don’t need my own room. I don’t mind sharing with the rest of your staff,” she said, keeping her voice as even as possible, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten under her skin.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” His brows dipped as he shot her a quick glance. “You’re my pair. Anything less would be inappropriate.”

  “Oh.” She bit the inside of her cheek as she summoned the courage to continue. “What is appropriate for a benefactor’s pair? I mean—what exactly do you expect from me?”

  The corners of his lips tugged into a knowing grin. “Been storing up that question for awhile now, haven’t you?”

  That one and a million other questions that were spilling through her mind—but she didn’t dare ask them. Not yet. Her fists tightened around her reins as her horse closed the gap between them, bumping her leg against Weston’s. Her face flushed. “Not really. I asked you earlier, and you didn’t answer.”

  Without warning, Weston’s hand shot out and grabbed her reins, pulling them both to an abrupt stop. His icy blue eyes locked on hers, trapping her in his gaze.

  “I didn’t answer because it’s not important right now. Your first priority is recovering.”

  “But—that can’t be all. Pairs have responsibilities. Especially for benefactors.”

  His eyebrow jerked up. “Well, thank you for informing me.”

  Sage’s ears burned. He was mocking her again.

  “Who sets those responsibilities?” he asked.

  “Eprah?”

  She’d thought it was the right answer, but when his eyes narrowed, she knew she’d said the wrong thing.

  “Benefactors,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze. “You do.”

  “Then why do you insist on questioning what I’ve already told you?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Bennick,” she said, fighting to keep herself from trembling. “I just—what do you expect from me?”

  “Weston.” His tone softened as he pulled on her reins again. They started moving forward. “For now, let’s just call it companionship. I could use a friend, and it seems you could too.”

  Sage gritted her teeth. No way was that all he wanted from her. Especially once he found out she wasn’t pregnant anymore—that secret couldn’t last forever.

  “But—”

  “Now that I’ve answered one of your questions,” he said, making no apologies for interrupting, “I think it’s only fair that you do the same for me. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I—” She snapped her mouth closed. Everything in her screamed that she should object, but he was a benefactor. Her benefactor. She had no choice.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, catching her eye. “Why were you in the alley last night?”

  Her jaw dropped at the sudden change in subject. She scrambled to give him a reason—any reason that wasn’t the truth.

  “I needed to go for a walk. Clear my head,” she lied.

  “Why?”

  She stared at him like he’d asked the most obvious question ever. “My pair’s dead.”

  “Your old pair,” he corrected her. “Your new pair is very much alive.”

  “Not like I knew that last night,” she muttered.

  “No, I suppose not.” Weston murmured, then shot her a skeptical look. “But why last night? It wasn’t like you’d just found out. If I’m not mistaken, you’d already known for a couple weeks.”

  “Grief isn’t predictable,” she snapped. Fear instantly wrapped itself around her as she realized how she’d just spoken to him.

  “That is true,” he said thoughtfully, not commenting on her outburst. “Grief never behaves like you expect it to. It manages to surprise me sometimes still.”

  Her jaw throbbed from clenching it so hard. She stared at him mutely. Even before he was a benefactor, he’d been brought up on a plush private estate and had a great assignment in Eprah. Plenty of Chances. Lots of influence. Nothing to worry about, ever. What did he know about grief?

  Then the truth slammed into her, knocking the wind from her chest. His mother. He knew about grief because his father was gone and his mother had been executed. And her death was on Sage’s hands. Did he realize that? He couldn’t. Why would he have saved her last night if he did?

  “It just seemed strange,” he continued. “You were quite a good distance from your apartment. And so near the city gates. And I would think, working at the Peace, that you should know that area of the city isn’t the type of place you want to be late at night.”

  Sage stared at the horse’s ear in front of her, watching it flick back and forth. She hated that he already knew so much about her. It didn’t seem possible. With all the little comments he’d been making since they’d met, it felt like he’d spent the last twelve hours learning her life story. It was downright creepy.

  “I guess I wasn’t thinking about that.” She hesitated. “Why were you there?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I was there to rescue you.” His tone didn’t suggest that he was anything other than serious, but his eyes shone with mischief.

  “I’m sure.” Her eyes narrowed. It bothered he
r that he was acting so familiar, like they hadn’t just met for the first time—or, technically, the second time—that morning. “Besides that. Why would a benefactor be skulking around in the shadows?”

  His expression hardened. “Anything besides that is my business. And I don’t skulk,” he added.

  “And I thought we were sharing,” she mumbled under her breath.

  “I might be more inclined to tell you my reasons for being there if I were convinced you were telling me the whole story.”

  Sage stiffened. Of course he’d heard her. “What makes you think—”

  He held up his hand, silencing her. She pressed her lips together in irritation as he ignored her, searching the sky.

  Then she heard it. Thunder, rumbling in the distance.

  “Come on. We can get home before it gets too bad out here, but we have to hurry.” Weston snapped his reins.

  Sage bit back a retort and urged her horse to pick up the pace.

  They were going to his home. Not hers.

  She wasn’t sure if she’d ever manage to find a home again, but if she did, it certainly wouldn’t be as anyone’s slave.

  4. GHOSTS

  They’d made it within sight of the stable by the time the rain started. At first, it was just a drop or two, but by the time they’d put the horses up, it’d picked up considerably. Sage made her way to the entry and peeked out the half-open door, trying to stay upwind of the downpour. Sheets of rain obscured everything outside their shelter.

  “Two options,” Weston said, coming up behind her. She could feel the warmth radiating from his chest against her back, and her hands clenched into fists at her side. “Wait it out or embrace the fact that we’re going to get soaked.”

  She wrinkled her nose and glanced out the door. Damp animals didn’t smell good.

  Squaring her shoulders, she tilted her head back to look at him. “We could be stuck here for awhile. A little water won’t hurt.”

  “Already a trusted adviser.” He winked and grabbed her hand, and they sprinted together toward the main house. Raindrops pelted her bare arms, stinging her skin as she ran.