Page 24 of Bonds of Pain
My heart rate quickens, and I instinctively take a step back toward the door. “Poe, why are we here?”
Instead of answering, he moves deeper into the darkness.
A light clicks on, one of those industrial ones for work sites that illuminates a large circle in bright yellow.
At the very center, harsh light illuminating his bruised and battered features, sits a bound and gagged Alpha. What little is left of a guard uniform hangs in bloody strips around his hunched form.
I gasp aloud. “Who is this?”
Poe appears at my side, close enough to make me jump. He holds a knife the approximate length of his forearm, tilting the blade so light dances off its razor-sharp, metal surface.
“This is Darius, formerly a palace guard stationed at the southern gates,” Poe explains casually. “After reviewing security footage from the night of the palace attack, I’ve learned he was the one who let our attackers inside. I’ve had him locked down here for the last few days.”
The image should be a shocking one. All this blood and pain should be enough to make me instantly recoil. Instead, I study the guard with dispassionate eyes as he meets my gaze with imploring eyes. I only feel disgust at the thought that removing that stained gag from his mouth would only result in some useless begging.
“So why am I here?” I ask finally.
“This man is responsible for you almost getting kidnapped.” Poe flips the knife in his hands, managing to hold the bladewithout cutting himself as he offers me the hilt. “I thought you might be interested in helping me find out what he has to say.”
Chapter Eight
POE
Iwatch Maya’s slender fingers wrap around the knife handle, her knuckles whitening with the strength of her grip. The basement air hangs heavy with the metallic scent of old blood and fear. Darius shifts in his restraints, the chair creaking beneath him as sweat beads on his forehead.
Maya’s eyes flick between the knife and the captive guard. “You actually expect me to use this on him?”
Her voice is steady, but I catch the slight tremor in her hand.
I lean against the wall, arms crossed. “I don’t expect anything. Do whatever you want to do with it.”
The knife glints in the dim light as she considers her options. I’ve seen that look before, the calculation hidden behind her vulnerability. Most people only see the fragile Omega, but there is something sharper beneath her surface.
I want to see it in action.
“Whatever I want?” she repeats, testing the words.
“That’s right.”
In one fluid motion, she pivots and points the blade directly at me. The tip hovers inches from my throat, her stance surprisingly solid for someone who’s never been trained.
I don’t flinch. Don’t even blink. Just hold her gaze as Darius watches with widening eyes.
“Is this what you want to do?” I ask, my voice calm as still water.
“Maybe.” Her cherries-champagne scent spikes with adrenaline. “Why bring me here? What game are you playing?”
“No game. Just giving you a taste of your new reality.”
The knife doesn’t waver. “And what reality is that? That you’re all killers and torturers?”
“That you need to understand what you’ve bonded yourself to.” I push off from the wall but make no move to disarm her. “Logan’s world isn’t just fancy dinners and royal titles. It’s this too.”
“I didn’t choose any of this.” Her eyes flash with anger, but something else lurks there.
Curiosity.
“Yet here you stand.”
