Page 63 of Bonds of Pain
Chapter Seventeen
MAYA
Iwake up to an empty bed that has gone long cold, even if Poe’s scent still lingers on the sheets. It’s late in the morning, judging from the full sunlight coming through the window. The loud voices audible through the walls must mean I’m the last to be up for the day.
For a moment, I consider burrowing deeper into the covers, pretending the world outside doesn’t exist. But the last thing I want to do is risk one of them deciding to come looking for me.
When I return to Logan’s chambers to find something to wear, both he and Cillian are already gone. I select a simple dress. Nothing fancy, just something comfortable that won’t draw attention. After last night with Poe, I’m not sure how to face any of them. The dynamic has shifted again, and I need time to recalibrate my approach.
What I don’t expect is the chaos that greets me.
Logan paces the length of the dining room, barking orders into a communication device. The staff who normally brings breakfast, scurry around him looking on the verge of tears. Hishair is disheveled, as if he’s been running his hands through it repeatedly, but the rest of him is immaculate. Today, he is wearing a starkly white dress uniform with every button and medal on his chest shined to absolute perfection. Cillian stands nearby, tablet in hand, fingers flying across the screen as he processes whatever instructions Logan fires at him, even as I sense through the bond his distant urge to fix Logan’s appearance,
Ares leans back in his chair with arms crossed, watching the frenzy with a mixture of amusement and concern. Poe sits at the far table, methodically cleaning what appears to be a small handgun.
None of them notices me until I’m fully in the room.
Logan whirls around mid-sentence, golden eyes landing on me with laser focus. “What are you wearing?”
I glance down at my simple dress. “A dress?”
“A sack, I think you mean.” He dismisses my outfit with a wave. “You have the meeting with the Omega coalition this morning. You need to be dressed in something befitting your station. There should be a green day dress hanging in the hall bathroom. You have just enough time to change before you need to leave.”
“She needs to eat,” Ares says, mouth full of a bite of sausage.
“If she’s late, I’m taking it out of your ass.” Logan turns back to me with a critical eye, a tinny voice still coming from his comm unit that he appears to be ignoring. “Wear your hair up with the dress, no need to distract from the sigil around your neck. Ares will escort you there and back. Do not go anywhere in the palace alone. I’ll see you tonight.” He turns away without waiting for a response from me and returns his attention to his comm unit as he strides toward the door. “Damn it, no. I already told you this afternoon won’t work. If the ambassador wantsto meet with me that badly, then the urge probably won’t have faded by tomorrow.”
Cillian throws me an apologetic shrug before following Logan out.
Poe stands, holstering his weapon beneath his jacket. “I have to leave too.”
I expect him to simply walk past me like the others, but he pauses, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead. The gesture is so unexpected, so tender, that I freeze in place.
“Be careful today,” he murmurs against my skin before pulling away.
The door closes behind him, leaving me alone with Ares.
“What’s going on?” I ask, still reeling slightly from Poe’s casual display of affection.
Ares shrugs, but his relaxed posture doesn’t match the tension in his eyes. “Word has officially gotten out that Logan is about to be named heir. Everything is moving faster now.” He gestures toward the hallway. “Go get changed. I’ll make a plate for you.”
“It’s fine. I don’t want to be late.”
“Doesn’t matter if you are,” he says with a scoff. “You’re a royal consort now. People wait for you, not the other way around.”
“I’m sure there will be food at this meeting.”
He makes a face of disgust as he waves me away. “Cakes and cucumber sandwiches aren’t food. You can thank me later when your body isn’t screaming for some protein.”
In the hallway bathroom, I find the green dress hanging exactly where Logan said it would be. It’s beautiful, not overly ornate but clearly expensive, with subtle beading along the neckline that catches the light. The color reminds me of forest shadows, a shade that suits my coloring like it was created for me.
I’m not sure which bothers me more—that Logan is now dictating my wardrobe or that he actually has decent taste.
“Remind me what the Omega coalition is again?” I ask as I reenter the dining room.
Ares slides a piled-high plate across the table and gestures for me to take a seat. “A social club for the mates of high-ranking Alphas in government. They do charity work, organize fundraisers, boring shit like that to keep them occupied.”
Because gods forbid they give an Omega something actually important to do.
