Page 20 of Bonds of Pain
I don’t miss how Logan’s knuckles whiten where he grips his fork hard enough to snap it into pieces. He wants to order Ares away from me. I can sense the urge building inside him like pressure in a sealed container. Yet he remains silent, his mouth a hard line.
Interesting. Even Logan recognizes that demanding his packmate not touch me is an unreasonable request, maybe even a sign of weakness. After all, I’m supposedly part of this pack now.
The hesitation to express his frustration reveals something important.
On some level, he has to recognize that this bond is inherently unstable. His claim on me isn’t nearly as strong ashe wants it to seem, and they’ll figure it out if they look closely enough.
We always hold hardest to the thing we feel slipping from our grasp.
Ares leans closer, looming over where I’m seated on the chair until his body practically cradles mine. His whisper fans across the delicate shell of my ear. “If you need anything to make you more comfortable, just say the word.”
I don’t need the bond to sense Logan’s anger building.
“For fuck’s sake,” Poe interrupts, slapping his napkin onto the table. “Watching you two fight over her like dogs with a bone is killing my appetite. If one of you needs to put her over the table, then get it over with.”
The tension breaks. Ares chuckles and finally releases my shoulders, sauntering back to his seat with a self-satisfied smirk.
“Just welcoming our newest pack member properly,” Ares says, winking at me across the table.
Logan’s eyes haven’t left me. Through our bond, I feel his emotions churning. Anger, possessiveness, and underneath it all, a sliver of uncertainty that he desperately tries to hide.
For a moment, I think Logan is going to say something that he can’t take back.
A prickle of cold awareness tickles up my spine just before the door of the apartment bangs open. Cillian strides in with a single-minded purpose, tablet tucked under his arm and seemingly unconcerned with the cloud of tension.
Those eyes find mine for the briefest moment, a glance so quick anyone else would miss it. Despite his deliberately neutral expression, I wonder if he simply can’t help himself.
The bond calls to us both, desperate for assurances.
He doesn’t acknowledge anyone else as he stops at Logan’s side, gaze trained on the tablet screen.
“Your Highness, I’ve finalized your schedule for today,” Cillian says, his voice clipped and professional. “The Docanian ambassador requested a meeting this morning. I’ve pushed it to eleven to allow time for your scheduled inspection with the captain of the palace guard. The budgetary review committee meeting is at two, followed by?—“
“Someone’s in a mood this morning,” Ares interrupts, leaning back in his chair with a lazy grin. The hint of jealousy in his tone brings an edge to his amusement. “Not even a hello? What’s got you so wound up, Cillian?”
Dark lashes flicker once with a blink, but Cillian keeps his attention trained on the tablet screen. “Everything is fine, Ares. I would be happy to exchange social niceties with you once the schedule allows.”
“Cmon, I’m trying to live vicariously here.” Ares shakes his head with a dark chuckle. “Did you see something absolutely depraved during our little Omega’s heat cycle? Is that what has you acting all bound up and traumatized?”
I hold my breath as I watch Cillian carefully, noting the nearly imperceptible tightening around his mouth, the way his fingers flex around the rounded edges of his tablet.
“Must have been quite the show,” Ares continues, oblivious to the dangerous ground he’s stomping over. “Logan marking his territory. Did you have to stand guard outside the door while they went at it? Poor Cillian, always watching, but never gets to participate until it’s sloppy seconds.”
If only he knew. I drop my eyes to the untouched plate in front of me, unable to look at either Logan or Cillian. The irony of it all makes my head hurt. Ares has obviously been made aware of my bond with Cillian, even if he can’t possibly know all the details. He clearly shares Poe’s opinion that they should have been included to my heat.
His jealousy might be useful at some point, but right now it’s just going to lead to a fight.
I hope Logan will intervene even though I’m nearly certain he won’t. Poe looks between them both with a troubled frown, but remains silent.
Typical Alphas.
Cillian maintains a placid exterior, but even without the bond I’d be able to sense the growing storm of his emotions.
“I’d be happy to share any details you’d like, Ares. But if you’ll indulge me, I have a slightly more pressing matter that requires attention.” Cillian tosses his tablet onto the table. It skids across the smooth surface, only coming to a stop when it clatters against Logan’s breakfast plate. “The Inquisitor has put in an official request to interview Prince Logan and his pack in relation to the investigation into Ander’s death. A day is the longest I could put him off.”
The atmosphere in the room shifts instantly. The tension that floods the air is palpable, like someone sucked all the oxygen out and replaced it with a heavier molecule that settles like a weight in my chest. Logan’s fork clatters against his plate. Poe goes completely still. Even Ares’s perpetual smile slips.
Logan’s voice has lost its usual arrogance. “Why weren’t we informed sooner?”
