When she finally dared look back up, the tension had left Troy, and he'd gone back to digging through her suitcase.
"That's my stuff," Faith said, moving to face him across the counter. "You can't just go through it like that. It's private."
Troy looked down at the clothes bunched in his fists. "Apparently, I can. Why do you care? There's nothing here but more of these ridiculous dresses. They're all the same."
"My clothes are not ridiculous," Faith said, her face burning as she snatched the garments out of his hands. "They are modest, which is something you don't know the first thing about."
Troy didn't fight her. Instead, he crossed his arms and watched her trying to refold the dresses, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "Jeans and T-shirts are modest. Those are shapeless, ugly sacks meant to hide your body and make you indistinguishable from everyone else in your cult."
Faith's eyes narrowed. She'd heard the church maligned this way plenty of times before, and her response was swift and instinctual. "The Church of the Beta Way is not a cult."
Troy laughed and leaned back against the butcher-block kitchen island. "The Church of the what?"
"Beta Way," Faith said, lifting her chin proudly. "We are followers of God's true plan for his people."
"Is that right?" Troy asked lazily.
"Which part don't you believe in? God or his plan?"
"I don't believe in any of it," Troy said. "But I also don't usually give a shit what anyone else believes."
"Usually?"
"Yep. The problem is when they start talking about the one true plan as if they could possibly have the answers to the unknowable. Or when they demonize other people just because they don't think like them. Or weren't born like them. That shit never leads anywhere good."
Faith felt her convictions falter a little. "So…what do you believe in?... Nothing?"
"No. I believe in what I can sense. What I can touch. What I can see. What's standing right in front of me."
He came around the counter to stand in front of Faith and traced his fingers down the length of her arm. A trail of goosebumps sprung up in their wake. She tried to hold on to her irritation, but it was nearly impossible when he touched her. His dark magic swept all emotions away except the most primal—like the longing that caught fire in her belly.
"But you believe in sin, don't you?" she said, trying to cover the quaver in her voice. "Wouldn't you have to, since alphas are the offspring of the devil?"
Troy smirked, refusing to rise to the bait. "I suppose you learned that from your church too. Tell me, what else did they teach you about us?"
Faith pressed her lips together and shook her head. "Why should I tell you? You'd just make fun of me."
Troy shook his head. He rested his hands on her shoulders and let her squirm under their weight for a moment before slowly letting his fingertips drift down her arms, tracing lazy designs through the thin fabric of her dress until he reached her hands.
"Tell me," he said, abandoning the smirk. "I won't make fun of you. I really want to know."
His touch had taken Faith's resistance, leaving her unable to deny him. "They teach that you are the descendants of the fallen angels, who consorted with beta women and spawned a bloodline of cursed giants."
"So that's why you keep calling me the devil," he said evenly.
"Well, technically, you're just a devil," Faith clarified. "Not the devil. That's different."
"I see. And what did they tell you about omegas?"
Abruptly, the fire that Troy's touch had kindled inside Faith evaporated, leaving her feeling empty and desolate. She stared at the floor rather than answer.
"That bad?" Troy said quietly.
Faith nodded. There was no way that she could express how bad. A single omega was more evil than all the alphas in the world put together. Alphas might be devils—but at least they hadn't chosen their path. They hadn't asked to be born cursed.
But omegas? They were different because they chose their fate. Despite all the warnings, they sought out alphas and allowed them to touch them. Omegas only existed because they willingly invited a life of wickedness and sin.
For that reason, they were below contempt, reviled more than all others.
And now Faith was one.
She could try to deny it. She could go back to yelling at Troy and calling him terrible names. She could threaten vengeance on every alpha she ever met, but it wouldn't change what she was.
A fallen woman. A sinful disgrace.
Faith tried to turn away as she felt the tears welling up in her eyes, but Troy wouldn't allow it. He gripped her shoulders and forced her to look at him.
"Listen to me, Faith," he growled. "Those fuckers lied to you."
"No, they didn't." If being an omega wasn't innately wrong, then why did she feel so much shame? Why did she feel the indelible mark of irredeemable sin? "This is my punishment for disobeying my parents and running away."
"You ran away?" Troy seemed surprised—and intrigued.
"I had to. There was no other way. No one else cared about what had happened to Hope, so I stole the pastor's gun and my father's van, and I came on my own."
Troy crooked his finger under her chin and lifted it up, his expression more serious than Faith had ever seen it. "There's nothing wrong with you. There's nothing wrong with us."
"But—"
"No buts," he said. "You've had to listen to that bullshit all your life. Now you're going to listen to me for a while. You call what I believe in sin, but you're wrong. The pleasure we both feel when we touch is the closest thing to heaven there is."
Faith shook her head. "Don't blaspheme."
"I'm not. I'm deadly serious." Troy pulled her into his arms, his hands stroking her back. The warmth of his body started to thaw the shame inside her. "Tell me what this feels
