Page 71 of Bonds of Pain
“She’s different,” I mutter, hating how the words sound coming out of my mouth.
Dani’s eyes widen with genuine surprise. “Holy shit, Ares. You actually care about this one.”
I don’t answer, which is answer enough.
“You’ve never cared if a woman liked you before,” Dani says, her voice softer now, almost gentle. It’s unsettling coming from her. “You’ve always been content to just take what’s offered and move on.”
I shift uncomfortably. “Like I said, it’s complicated.”
“No, it’s simple. You’re falling for her.” Dani punches my arm, hard enough that I’ll have a bruise tomorrow. “The mighty Ares, brought low by a purple-haired princess.”
Before I can respond, the locker room door swings open and Maya steps out in borrowed sweats and a tank top that’s too big for her small frame. She’s tied her hair back, revealing the delicate curve of her neck, and her eyes are bright with anticipation.
The sight of her makes me want to take her to the mats and let her win every single round, audience be damned.
“Ready to learn how to throw a proper punch?” Dani calls out to her, mercifully dropping our conversation.
Maya nods eagerly, practically bouncing on her toes as she approaches the ring.
Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Iwatch Maya dance around Dani in the ring, learning how to throw a proper punch. Dani’s hands are on Maya’s hips, adjusting her stance, then sliding up to position her arms correctly. Every touch makes something twist in my gut even though I know there’s nothing sexual about it.
“Widen your feet,” Dani instructs, tapping Maya’s ankles with her foot. “Good. Now rotate your hips when you punch—that’s where the power comes from.”
Maya follows the instruction, her small body pivoting with surprising grace as she throws a jab at the padded mitts Dani holds up. The sound of impact echoes through the warehouse, and Maya’s face lights up with a grin that’s almost feral.
“Again,” Dani commands, and Maya complies, throwing another punch with more confidence.
I turn away, unable to watch anymore. It’s not that I don’t want Maya to learn to defend herself—quite the opposite. But watching another Alpha’s hands on her, even in this completely innocent context, is making my skin crawl.
I stalk across the warehouse floor to the makeshift bar set up against the far wall. It’s little more than a few crates stacked together with bottles of cheap liquor arranged haphazardly on top, but it’ll do.
“Beer,” I grunt to the old man behind the bar, sliding onto a rickety stool.
He nods and pops the cap off a bottle, sliding it across to me. His weathered face is a map of scars and wrinkles, telling stories of fights long past.
“Ain’t seen you around in a while,” he comments, dealing out a hand of cards on the bar top. “Solitaire keeps me company most days.”
I take a long pull from the bottle. “Been busy.”
“Royal duties, I expect.” He nods toward Maya in the ring. “That your Omega?”
“Not just mine,” I correct automatically, then grimace. If this old-timer doesn’t recognize the girl whose face has been splashed all over holovids for the last few weeks, I’m not going to change that. “She’s part of my pack.”
“Pack,” the old man snorts, turning over cards with practiced flicks of his wrist. “Wasn’t no packs back in my day.”
I raise an eyebrow. “How old are you, exactly?”
“Old enough to remember before King Leopold unified the cities.” He taps a gnarled finger against his temple. “Back then, it was every Alpha for themselves. No sharing. No packs. Just territory and whoever was strong enough to protect it.”
I watch as he lays a red queen onto a black king. “Sounds chaotic.”
“It was.” He shrugs. “But there was a kind of honesty to it. You knew where you stood. None of this fancy royal pack business where you gotta pretend you’re happy sharing what’s yours.”
My eyes drift back to Maya, who’s now practicing a defensive stance, her small body coiled with potential energy. Dani stands close behind her, adjusting her elbow position.
“Sharing isn’t always easy,” I admit.
