Page 5 of Bonds of Pain
I strip down to my boxers and slide into bed beside her, pulling the covers over us both. Her body instinctively curves toward mine, seeking warmth. I draw her closer, burying my nose in her hair and inhaling deeply.
Strawberries and champagne, bitter clove, and the faintest hint of floral and powder. Our scents, woven together. Perfect.
This is right. This is necessary. This is inevitable.
No matter what any of them say, I know I’ve made the right choice.
I don’t care if they all hate me for it.
Chapter Two
POE
Iwatch Logan stalk away with the unconscious Maya in his arms, my jaw clenched so tight I think my teeth might crack. The bastard doesn’t even look back once. Just marches off like he owns the world.
In his mind, he probably does.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, running a hand through my hair.
Once they disappear around the corner, the empty corridor goes oppressively silent. As if the universe is holding its breath in anticipation. And disbelief.
Even I can’t quite believe what I just saw, despite the lingering evidence in the air.
The oppressive scent of their bond overlaps with the even more obvious stink of blood, enough that the claiming mark ripped into Maya’s flesh can’t be the only source of it. I can only assume that she is covered in scratches under the dress haphazardly wrapped around her body. Logan didn’t evenbother to put her arms through the sleeves that hung loosely at her sides.
Or maybe she put up a fight. And Logan is the one with a plethora of wounds hidden underneath his clothing.
One can only hope.
But their commingled scent is impossible to mistake for anything other than it is.
Strawberries and champagne, now muted and mixed with the more bitter notes of clove and something more subtle, almost like fresh laundry swaying in the breeze.
What the actual fuck just happened?
This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Not by a long shot. I’d roughed Maya up when she first arrived because that was my job, because I assumed that was what Logan wanted. He had made it clear in a hundred different ways that he never intended to bond with her.
But if I’d known that he actually planned to keep her…
My fist connects with the wall only a millisecond before I realize I’ve thrown a wild punch. Pain blooms across my knuckles, but I welcome it. Better than the ache churning in my gut.
Maya will never trust me. How could she? In her eyes, I’m just another monster in this den of wolves. And it would be a struggle for me to come up with much evidence to the contrary.
I’m not sure I even want her trust because I sure as fuck can’t offer her anything like trust in return. Omegas are dangerous. The fact that she has finally disrupted our pack permanently is just more proof of that.
I pace the empty hallway, caught between rage and self-loathing. Am I angrier at Logan for changing the rules without telling me, or at myself for being his willing attack dog for all these years?
Both, probably.
Logan might have set me up to be the villain in her story, but I was happy to let him do it. Happy to serve him, just like I have for the past decade.
I lean against the cold stone wall, overwhelmed by a sudden wave of exhaustion. I can’t remember the last time I slept. It’s been at least two days and will probably be hours more because my mind won’t be capable of slowing down any time soon.
The open door at the end of the hallway catches my attention.
Curiosity compels me forward, even if I don’t particularly want to see the aftermath of Logan and Maya’s bonding. I’m still in a state of denial, chaotic thoughts held off by sheer force of will. The reality of the situation hasn’t fully infiltrated my consciousness, and I’d prefer to put off that moment for as long as possible.
I descend the stairs to the basement, my footsteps deliberately silent—a habit formed over years that I couldn’t break now if I tried. The scent hits me before I reach the bottom: concentrated Omega pheromones, thick enough to turn even my normally disciplined mind into a cloud of hormonal urges.
