Page 100 of Bonds of Pain
“You don’t mean that,” Elara says, her breath hot against my ear. “Remember how good we made you feel? How special you were to us?”
An image of Maya flashes in my mind—her fierce determination, her refusal to be broken despite everything done to her. What would she think if she saw me now, paralyzed by memories?
“I need to leave,” I say, forcing strength into my voice. “Logan is expecting me.”
“Prince Logan doesn’t need to know everything his pack does,” Vivienne says, her fingers now working at my belt. “He certainly keeps his own secrets.”
My hand snaps up, catching her wrist. Not violently—I can’t risk that—but firmly enough to stop her progress.
“This isn’t happening,” I say, finding my voice at last. “Not again. Not ever.”
Elara’s hand tightens on my shoulder. “Don’t be difficult, Poe. We have influence with the king. We could make things very uncomfortable for you and your little pack.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, keeping my voice steady despite the unease prickling up my spine.
Elara’s smile turns predatory. “This new Inquisitor has been quite thorough in his investigation. I was interviewed myself, you know.” Her fingers trace my jawline. “But perhaps there are things I forgot to mention the first time around.”
The implication hangs heavy in the air.
Vivienne leans closer, her perfume suffocating. “Poor Ander might have had more than one enemy in the palace. But it’s obvious who benefited most from his death, isn’t it? Prince Logan.”
I feel a spike of fear, sharp and cold, but maintain my outward calm. Years of training have taught me how to hide my reactions, even as my heart hammers against my ribs.
“You don’t know anything about Ander’s death,” I say flatly.
Vivienne’s laugh is musical and cruel. “Maybe we do, maybe we don’t.” Her fingers slide beneath my collar. “But it doesn’t really matter, does it? Just the suggestion, the whisper of suspicion...that’s enough to do damage.”
My mind races. They can’t possibly know what really happened, that Logan killed Ander. If these women start spreading rumors, the Inquisitor might look closer, find inconsistencies in Logan’s story.
“What do you want?” I ask, though I already know.
“Just a little taste,” Elara whispers, her lips brushing my ear. “Nothing you haven’t done before.”
Her hands move to my belt, unbuckling it with practiced ease. I’m torn between my loyalty to Logan and self-preservation. If I resist, they could spread rumors that would bring the Inquisitor’s attention directly to Logan. If I submit...
I close my eyes as Elara’s hand slides lower.
I think of Maya, who fights despite knowing she can’t win. Who refuses to surrender her sense of self even when everything has been stripped away.
I think of the boy I was, trapped in these very rooms, told that my body wasn’t my own. The boy who grew into a man who kills without hesitation but freezes at a woman’s unwanted touch.
Will there ever be a time in my life when I get to be someone different from who I’ve been in the past? When I’m not defined by what others have taken from me or what I’ve been forced to give?
I think I already know the answer.
Iturn the water as hot as it will go, watching steam fill the bathroom. My skin burns, but I welcome the pain. Anything to distract from the lingering sensation of unwanted hands.
I scrub harder, watching my skin turn angry red. The rough sponge rasps against my flesh, but no matter how much I scour myself, I can still smell them. Vivienne’s cloying perfume. Elara’s chalky scent. Both mixed with the bitter tang of my own fear.
The memory makes me scrub harder, my movements growing frantic. I should have fought harder. Should have pushed them away. Should have done something—anything—other than freeze like the scared little boy I once was.
I slam my palm against the shower wall, the sharp sting momentarily grounding me.
Maya’s face flashes in my mind—the look of confusion when I rushed past her after returning to the apartment. I couldn’t meet her eyes. Couldn’t bear to see the questions forming there. What would she think if she knew? An Alpha who couldn’t defend himself against two aging Omegas?
She’d never believe me. No one would.
My heart knocks harder in my chest. The water can’t wash away the truth: if Maya discovers what happened, whatever fragile thing growing between us will shatter. She’ll never look at me the same way again. The disgust in her eyes would be unbearable.
