Page 3 of Bonds of Pain
The words are bait. But that doesn’t stop Cillian’s gaze from reflexively flicking over her still form, lingering on the swollen imprint of his teeth on the back of her shoulder.
I head toward the stairs, not bothering to look back. “Or you’re welcome to stay here alone if you prefer.”
His footsteps follow me after only a moment’s hesitation, just as I knew they would. For all his anger and defiance, Cillian won’t abandon her. Won’t abandon us. The bond won’t let him, no matter how much he tries to resist it.
The basement stairs are narrow, forcing me to turn slightly sideways to navigate them without bumping Maya’s head or feet against the walls. Her scent envelops me with each step—strawberries and champagne, now layered with the unmistakable notes of both Cillian and me. The combination is intoxicating, proof of what we’ve accomplished.
What I’ve accomplished.
The door at the top of the stairs remained locked, as I made sure of that before we came down. I have to maneuver around the bulk of Maya’s unconscious body to undo the locks one-by-one. The array is impressive, practically Alpha-proof without a way to just break down the metal door itself. I never would have gotten past this barrier if Cillian hadn’t let me inside.
I’d thank him if I thought he would at all appreciate the sentiment.
After pushing the door open with my shoulder, hands firmly gripping my new Omega, I emerge into the dimly lit hallway of the east wing’s private quarters. The air is cooler here, air-conditioning on full blast, and Maya shivers slightly in my arms.
“I’m taking her to our chambers,” I say, already moving in that direction.
“Now, it’sourchambers? That’s new,” Cillian scoffs from behind me. “Or maybe I’m misremembering all the times I was commanded toreturn to my chambers, Cillian. I don’t ever recall you referring to it asours.”
The note of hurt under his anger is something I know I’ll have to eventually address, but now isn’t the time for it.
Ignoring him, I focus instead on the weight of Maya in my arms, the steady rhythm of her breathing. She’ll wake soon, and I want her somewhere comfortable when she does. Her new place beside me will require an adjustment period. Better to just rip off the bandage rather than delay the inevitable.
We’ve barely made it halfway down the corridor when a figure emerges from an intersecting hallway.
Poe stops abruptly, his dark eyes widening at the sight of us. His gaze moves from my face to Maya’s unconscious form and then to where Cillian hovers behind me. Calculations are occurring in real time behind his impassive expression.
Poe takes a single step closer, nostrils flaring slightly as he scents the air. The change in his posture is immediate—a straightening of his spine, a subtle shift in his stance. The scent of a fresh bond is impossible to hide.
He steps directly into my path, blocking the way forward. His eyes narrow as they linger on Maya’s face.
“What happened?” His nostrils flare as he takes another deep breath. “Why does she smell like that?”
I shift Maya’s weight in my arms, very aware of the fact that holding her puts me at a huge disadvantage in a fight. “Move, Poe. I need to get her to bed.”
He doesn’t budge. “She smells bonded.”
“How observant of you.” I don’t bother hiding my irritation. The last thing I need right now is an interrogation in the middle of the hallway.
“Explain.” The word comes out as a command, not a request.
My jaw tightens. Who the hell does he think he’s talking to? “I don’t answer to you.”
“You do when it affects the pack.” Poe’s gaze finally returns to my face, some unnamed emotion causing cracks in his mask of impassivity. “This wasn’t planned.”
“Plans change.” Maya stirs slightly in my arms, and I adjust my grip. “She went into heat unexpectedly. I decided the fates had aligned.”
Cillian makes a derisive sound behind me, but thankfully keeps his mouth shut.
Poe’s expression darkens. “That’s not the whole story.” He leans closer, scenting the air around Maya more deliberately. His eyes widen slightly before his face hardens into something unreadable. “She smells like Cillian, too.”
The accusation hangs in the air between us. I refuse to look guilty. I have nothing to be ashamed of.
“Cillian was there for her heat as well.” I keep my voice even, authoritative. “I let him mark her.”
Poe’s head snaps up, his gaze moving past me to where Cillian stands. The disbelief in his voice is tinged with something that sounds dangerously like contempt. “You let the lowest-ranked member of the pack bond our Omega before the rest of us?”
“Watch yourself,” I warn, feeling my patience wear thin. “My decisions regarding my pack and my Omega are not up for debate.”
