Page 21 of Bonds of Pain
“The message arrived this morning,” Cillian replies. “The Inquisitor apparently prefers the element of surprise.”
I watch their reactions carefully. The Inquisitor. Sionis Thane. I might know him as the evil doctor who held me hostage to conduct painful experiments on me for months. To them, he is clearly someone else. Someone who might be even more dangerous to them than he was to me.
If I suspected them of hiding something about Ander’s death before, now I’m certain of it.
A dangerous idea forms from the dark thoughts now constantly swirling in my head.
I won’t ever be able to hurt Logan and his pack in the way I’ve been hurt. I can’t rob Logan of his freedom, like he took mine, but maybe I can do the next best thing. I can cost him the only other thing that he seems to value.
His crown.
“Bring me with you to the Inquisitor’s meeting.”
All eyes turn to me, surprised that I’ve broken my silence.
“Why would we do that?” Logan asks, suspicion coloring his tone.
I let my shoulders drop slightly, adopting the demure posture that takes every technique in emotional suppression I ever learned at the Enclave.
“I’m your mate now, right? The Inquisitor will have to allow me there as an official member of your pack.” I deliberately touch the metal pendant at my neck, mildly surprised it doesn’t burn like a religious relic at my blasphemy. “More importantly, this man is a beta, government functionary with no Omega of his own. My presence might serve as something of a distraction. Enough to help you maintain more control over your interactions with him.”
Logan studies me, weighing my offer against his instinctive distrust. He knows he should be questioning my sudden interest in helping him, but my argument is a good one.
“Maya makes a decent point. No one is better at navigating political bullshit than she is,” Poe says unexpectedly, surprising me somewhat. “Having Maya there could work in our favor.”
Ares’s gaze lingers over me. “Might as well put her to use.”
“I’m glad to see you’re finally coming around to your proper place.” Logan’s eyes narrow in contemplation as he studies me, appreciation drowning out any suspicion at my sudden compliance. He must think he has the bond to thank for it.“I certainly can’t argue her exceptional skills.” His smile twists with lascivious intent. “Both at court and in the bedroom.”
I lower my eyes in apparent submission while imagining both hands wrapped around his thick neck. “I’m happy to help however I can.”
The craziest part is that he actually seems to believe me.
Chapter Seven
MAYA
Istay as silent as possible while they finish breakfast, letting arguments about the Inquisitor interview and ribald comments about my heat cycle wash over me like background chatter.
I’d never been good at the meditation classes they offered at the Enclave. Insisting that we learn the best practices for clearing our minds makes sense considering what the instructors must have known about what we would face as Omegas out in the world. But now, the idea of completely emptying my mind is an attractive one.
The less I feel, the less likely that Logan or Cillian will pick up on my true intentions through the bond.
So, I breathe a sigh of relief when Logan departs first, muttering about needing to prepare for the Inquisitor’s visit. Cillian follows at his heels, his rigid posture broadcasting his tension even without our bond connection. He spares me a single glance as he walks by, but looks away the moment that ourgazes meet. Ares leaves a few minutes later with barely a nod in my direction, seeming lost in thought.
Relief washes over me. Finally, a moment to breathe without their overwhelming Alpha presences suffocating me. I push my barely touched plate away and stand, eager to retreat to somewhere—anywhere—I can be alone with my thoughts.
“Going somewhere?”
I freeze at Poe’s voice behind me. Great. The assassin stayed behind.
Turning slowly, I brace myself for another crude comment or insult. Poe has made it already made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t want me here. Doesn’t mean he can resist adding a little salt to the wound.
Dark eyes study me with an intensity that makes me want to squirm.
“Just back to bed,” I answer carefully, keeping my voice neutral.
Poe tilts his head, inky strands of hair seeming to absorb rather than reflect the light. “You look terrible.”
